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In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
In the flying car, Al was mentally reciting mantras and drawing symbols, and was distractedly participating in the conversation which he could follow thanks to telepathic transfers he grasped from his friends conversations.
His gums were now much better, and he had recovered a wonderful smile with shiny pearl-white teeth.The car interior was now a bit small for them five, and Tina’d had to press herself on Al and Becky, who was almost disappearing in her boubou full of folds, her head wedged against the hat and the hat against the roof of the car.
— Can’t we get some air in there? asked Tina, who was feeling she needed to breathe more.
— Err… Let me checkSam’s friend was looking clumsily at some buttons for one to release the hood.
— Watch out! Becky cried, propping up her hat which had fallen on her eyes.
They had narrowly missed a bunch of balloons floating in the middle of the buildings.
— Jeeze! It’s no better than the submarway this thing… Becky was being fidgety at everything and was wishing for the whole wedding preparations to soon be over.
— Is that a frog we hear? asked Armando who had finally released the hood, having Becky clutch her hat, as well as little Chump, with the strong wind now blowing on their heads.
— WHAT? FLOG A TIRE? Tina was shouting now, seeing now all the benefits of being able to telepathically communicate…A click on a button. The hood was again put on top of the car.
— Bit too noisy, hey? said Armando
— Well, didn’t really mind said Albert dreamily— Oh dammit! Is there a damn frog in that car’s engine or what? Armando was stressed.
Tina looked at Sam in the rear-view mirror and spluttered affectionately. Al had just mentally expressed he was experimenting with new yeast actions in his digesting system, and that there was some minor inconveniences on which he would have liked some discretion… His belly was swelling funnily and making gargoyling noises…
— Ahahah, a frog… perhaps even a blue-bullfrog with all that frogging noise! Tina was feeling surprisingly exuberant.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Fine weather in Hawaii , he thought after the plane had landed at the Honolulu International Airport. He’d been offered an Orchid lei but didn’t really pay attention to it, almost discard it. Who had given it to him. He had no idea. Though the flowers were real now, and the smell was quite pleasant.
A man was waiting for him outside of the airport. Japanese breed.
Mr Langlade? My name is Isashi Mamoru. Aunt Alana was expecting you this morning.
Robert Langlade wasn’t here to apologize. She was the reason of his presence here, well what she possessed actually. The sooner he would meet her, the sooner he could continue his quest.
He got in the red car, and waited for the man to close the door.
Harry was looking at his daughter walking on the beach with her new friend. She’d lived with her mother in Arizona since she was born and she was only visiting him on holidays… when she had time. She had a western style and he wouldn’t have changed her, it was her choice. He’d wanted to change his own when he was her age, more trouble than he had expected. But it was another life, it was another Harry. He was not from Hawaii himself though he was born here. His family was originating from Korea. His path had moved him away from them for many years. He eventually came back, but he was different now.
This evening he was feeling melancholy. 58 years old. What was the purpose of his choices?
His daughter that he called Makana, seemed happy with her friend. She’d told him she’d met him at a conference in Boston last December. But he was not very present to his perception. Though he respected her choices again.Alana had told him about an old friend of his. She’d warned him. He was there to take something sacred. She had fear in her eyes.
Narsila was swimming swiftly, following the direction of the calling. She knew others of her kind had heard the signal and were heading toward its origin. It was one of these emerging rocks where the humans had chosen to live.
The call was not directly connected with them though. It had been activated from another dream.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
In the creaking wooden caravan slowly moving its way on the dusty roads, Twilight was lost in deep thoughts, caressing mechanically the beautiful blond wig.
She had done it almost on an impulse, but like all impulses she’d ever had, it had always felt deeply true to her core and she had gone. Now, it felt a bit strange, and too rational doubts were creeping along like viscous bugs, and she felt like judging her behaviour over and over.
Of course, her brothers, Jo the first, and then Elroy, had been supportive, but they had always been that way. Even when their first reactions were to object to what she was doing, like dancing in the saloon, her determination was always winning them easily. She had promised to write often, and she would probably be back in a year.When the Freak Show had settled in town for a week, she had been at first almost grossed out by what was announced, and had not been her brothers to egg on her, she probably wouldn’t have been going to see them.
Pat Elson, the director of the Fabulously Great Freakus (or FGF), was a little dark-skinned man in an orange suit and top-hat, with a communicable enthusiasm and a sincere consideration for the people he called “his performers”. Very soon, rather than being repulsed by the differences, Twilight had been attracted by the way of life of these people, and was considering traveling with them as an opportunity to discover more about the world and about herself. Her inspiration to write was even tickling her fingers like an army of ants she had never felt before.
When she had said to Pat Elson that she was willing to travel and work with them, rather than laughing like he used to do, he’d taken a silent pondering moment to consider the options. Obviously Twilight wasn’t a freak herself, at least not physically freaky. But he couldn’t refuse help, as his business was growing every day. Venus, the armless woman, his best asset on the show, had been recently pregnant, giving birth to conjoined twins, and would surely appreciate two arms to give her a hand… so to speak.
So he had agreed.The babies started crying in the caravan drawing Twilight out of her reveries. Venus was sleeping nearby, still exhausted, and Zarafina, the giraffe-woman, started to groan annoyed by the noise.
Twilight hurried to cuddle the babies, checking that they were alright. All was right, they were probably only bugged by the bumps in the road. No wonder… she sighed.In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— There you are! said the man to the dark figure who had just landed on the wrought iron railed balcony I believe your trip was good!
— Absolutely, Sir. Everything went as you said.
— Good, very good.The Baron was a tall man with an impressive build and a broad chest due to his lifelong passion for boxing. With his grey waxed moustache on his round rubicund face, he was giving the impression of a perfectly refined gentleman, but his disarrayed hair and his blue twinkling eyes behind his monocle were contrasting sharply and suggesting either a genius or a madman.
While Carla was getting rid of the cumbersome fly-like apparatus, the Baron was taking deep puffs on his pipe, releasing pink-coloured clouds smelling of vanilla.
The interior of the manor was of grisly aspect, but for all matter and purposes, the Baron seemed completely oblivious, as he was savouring his smoking on the stained worn bottle-green velvet sofa.
In actuality, the manor looked like a total ruin, and that, combined with the habit of speaking his mind which had gained him a reputation of heinous callous grizzly in society, had slowly severed him from all exterior contact.
The Crazy Baron, as the people of the nearby village had called him, was indeed very glad of this state of fact, which allowed him a complete privacy. As he liked to say to a few trusted people, being mad was the surest way of being left alone. Providing him what money, threats and coercion wouldn’t surely have given as surely. It was not completely safe either of incursion, but these, mainly due to a few young and curious daredevils from the village, could be easily thwarted thanks to the motion-sensors that were dispersed along the property and an appropriate anonymous call to the police. Because, unknown of but a few, underneath the old structure, was a room that, despite lacking a view, was not lacking of anything high-tech…— Do you want to know the details? asked Carla, interrupting the Baron in his thoughts.
— Not really. I suppose you gave that old crone of a Viscountess the fright of her life, but well, I suppose she deserved it… Many would agree of course, though never in private. Ahah!
— Well, now you make me think of it, I reckon she forgot herself a bit in the process…
— Ahahah! If only it could have taught her something… The manic laughter of the Baron was as chilling as it was infectious.Suddenly regaining his poised demeanour, the Baron resumed:
— Now, tell me, was it a genuine one?In reply to: Synchronicity
I just wanted to add some link about the origine of the name Robert
as I’m creating a new character with this name, again 
Apparently the meaning is “fame” and “bright”
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Yann was looking a TV show in which a clown was trying to juggle with many different plates. Plates with different colors, some with odd looking shapes, not quite balanced at first sight…
Yann was fascinated with the behavior of the man, looking for the approbation and the awe of the public, he was exaggerating many of his actions, it was quite colorful as were his clothes. It was a patchwork of different tones and different quality of material. Some were shiny and dark, some were matt and others almost transluscent
If the public hadn’t responded to his last foolery he would engage himself in an even more foolish action. Though there was a great fulfillment, it was visible on his face. He was quite enjoying being seen and observed even if it was with disdain.
Yann switched off the TV set and choose to go outside on this winter evening, not too cold but a bit chilly. His soft gloves were giving him a sense of warmth on his hands. It triggered the memory of his last week end with Yurick, his friend lighting the fire. Those were other fascinations of his
the fire, and his friend. The fleeting movement of the flames, their orangeness and their yellowness, the warmth of the fire and the gradient of temperature around the fireplace. The cat in her basket not so far but still where she could find a fresh breeze.Thinking of his friend, a pleasant warm feeling in all his body began flowing freely
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— Where is your bloody friend?
Armando was muttering again, growing impatient and agitated he couldn’t appreciate stillness. He was “so busy” as he was pleased to remind his friend. Sam was rather amused and held his friend in great affection. But at times it could be very irritating.
— We’re going to be late. I have another appointment in 2 hours, and it is in Boston. Not that my new car can’t do that…
He looked at Sam, waiting some kind of approbation or validation, maybe was he looking for awe. But Sam wasn’t impressed at all. He could be in Boston and in Botswana at the same time… well not yet physically in both but he was getting better at it. It was not so important now to be all physically focused in one place and time… or rather to block the recognition of the other places and times one was focusing on. Well he was lost in his thoughts, waiting for Becky.
— It’s quite… Yellow , Al said in a neutral voice.
Armando seemed satisfied with this answer. Maybe the answer itself wasn’t important, he had been acknowledged, he was influencing his environment… Looking at Al, Sam smiled with a
I told you, Armando is not yet familiarized with telepathy.
Yeah, it is quite useful not to be noticed. Though I really wonder what Becky is doing, we still have to give Tina a lift. She’s learning to declaim lyric poetry, she fancies her teacher, you know…
Sam couldn’t help but laugh at the image Al had conveyed to him.
— What? You think I can’t do it with my new car?
Sam had no idea of what Armando was talking about. Since he had bought this new gadget, he only had one thread of converstation available. Though Becky and Tina were quite eager to try this new technological progress. Becky almost fell into Canal Street’s dark water last time she went to see her friend Yang Tsung, her Chinese herborist, in a gondocab. She was looking for some hair growing potion, and she left with some new preparation to help her regain her balance.
Becky was late, and it was quite unusual… well most of the time she was not.
Sam and Al joined their thoughts and opened themselves to her energy, all they could grasp was about some nine tailed fox, and Chumpy… was she trying to mate her Chumpy with one of those new fancy pet breed?
A few minutes later, she was jumping from a gondocab to the yellow flying car.— Sorry I’m late… you know I was at this new “Rent’a Pet Shop, Boy!”, it’s fantastic the variety of old and new breeds they have. A poor girl was looking for a parrot or a magpie… so common, hopefully she would follow my advice and take one of those nine-tailed glowing fox.
Her gaze was distant for a few seconds and Chumpy was protesting at how she was holding him.
— Well it matters not as you know. Chumpy don’t be rude to mama! She sat and grinned voraciously, looking a bit worried. When are we going? We’ll be late to meet Tina!
Armando was gaping at her, and decided he would rather not argue with her. It was his first time with her and he already had categorized her.
All 3 were sitting on the rear of the car, while Armando was driving, focused on his new toy, trying not to make them all crash on one of the emerging towers of Manhattan Water Town. Sam was telling his friends about a dream he had last night and that seemed quite important. At least it was the only one of the night he could remember.
— How unusual of you, Becky said, you should meet Yang Tsung, his herbs are quite efficient, he’s got weeds for anything…
They lost her for a few seconds again, and Al looked at Sam, encouraging him to continue with his dream. Sam attention was splitted between Becky’s strong energy and the concentration of Armando who was not so confident in his ability to drive the flyellow car after all.
— Well, as I told you it was about new focuses of Al and I, they were journalists…
— Journalists? Like my friend Bonny! Did I tell you about her last crush? She fancies a future focus of her mother. He’s called Moht and lives 200years ahead from now. She goes and meets him in her dreams mostly, but she’s practicing with rendering more real during her… She stopped speaking, looking a bit confused
Al laughed heartily, Sam was still and seemed to listen so carefully to what she was saying, that it was comic.
— Continue Sam, journalists then?.., she said, stroking Chumpy distractedly.
— Journalists yes, and they were creating a relationship similar to Starsky and Hutch. They were attending a meeting, though I don’t remember what it was all about. All I know is that Al and I were time-travelling, and we happened to meet them at that moment. I don’t know how we knew that the conference would be the target of a terrorist group, but we were there to warn them. We were talking with my focus, Simeon, as Andre, the focus of Al was already in the conference room. It was an international conference and the bomb would cause many death among political personalities, scientists, writers and so on… Well my focus thanked us for the warning but also told me that they had their lot of fun and mischiefs in their lives and that they were ready to disengage.
— Wow! I have a synch with that. I think I was one of the Indian woman there, maybe a minister or similar? You know what? We’re planning to go to Madagascar with Sean for our honey moon
— Great! answered Al and Sam in unison.
— We’re at the Opera, Armando said, Is it your friend who looks so furious?
In reply to: Synchronicity
Poker synch with Tracy’s comment # 526 wich is apparently #923
I had a dream last night about a kind of poker in a casino.
It was different from our known poker in that the chips also were part of the game and had different values… there were unexpected chips like one ressembling 2 circling arrows, blazing red arrows.. very similar to a yin yang symbol or a recycling symbol. Its meaning was that of the actions done by you are attributed to your adversary.. it was a kind of exchanging aspects symbol actually, now that I think about it
Well nonetheless Poker Synch In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Mavis had not yet received any news from her friends Sharon and Gloria. She’d hoped she could have some postcard from them before she goes and join them…
Nearly two months… Two months since they had all received the exciting email from that Dr. Bronklehampton and had decided to take a leap of faith.
As a matter of fact, they had taken that leap of faith just before, and it was just a… “synchronistic confirmation that they were heading in the right direction”, that’s what old Harry had said… Or was it Joe? No, that was surely Harry.
Fred wasn’t very pleased.Bored by all the variations of dominoes and dices games at their third-age club, the three inseparable ladies had decided, in a bout of delightful unreasonableness, to embrace all that modern technology had to offer. Sharon and Gloria, being the devil-may-care as they were, got their computer first. Mavis had to convince Fred that he could make his horse-racing bets with that computer without having to go to the city, now that the last pub in the village wasn’t taking bets any longer… and even play poker! she’d said, bluffing so vehemently that she’d almost blushed in shame for fear of being wrong. But that last argument had convinced old Fred. And now, she was connected too. A second-hand computer, with a dusty old keyboard, but she’d let it soak a night in a soapy basin, and it was now shiny as a brand-new one. Except that it now kept behaving strangely…
In their club, they could boast that now they were connected all over the word, and all the old parakeets of the club had almost choked over their tea when they had heard all of what they had discovered.
Sharon had won most of the glaring bedazzlement. Wearing newly bought sunglasses, she’d said whispering like a conspirator that she had searched her name on a website and she had seen more than 7 million pages talking of her! Imagine! More than seven million people talking of her! And she had not known she was so famous… Hence the sunglasses, she’d added with a wink… there were probably a slew of paparazzi hidden somewhere to discover all that was to know about her… But you can’t fool dear ol’ Sharon Stone.
Gloria Fowles had been gathering almost 4,000 pages… But well, she had not the charismatic aura of Shah.
And Mavis Staples had got a hefty 470,000 pages!… Of course, she had not told Fred, who was already so paranoid about all of this stuff. When they had received the machine, he was convinced there were miniature cameras and transponders from the MI6 inside the PC and had spent hours disassembling and reassembling it.Very soon after they had registered for their free email address (the reseller had explained patiently that she couldn’t electrocute herself while licking the envelop), the next day to be precise, at 5:33 —that was the hour when Mavis had finished her routine dusting and breakfast preparing for Fred, and just before taking Gulp, the dog for a news reading (that was what Sha was saying “butt sniffing for dogs, is like news reading for us”), she had granted herself a little peek into the emailbox— she had seen something in the recipe folder.
She wasn’t sure why they had called that folder “meat” or “ham”… no that wasn’t “ham”… “SPAM” more like it… Anyway, in the recipes folder, she’d received her first email. She’d called eagerly Sha and Glo, and they had received it too, and had even answered it already, as they had spent the all night “surfing” as they said — which was a bit difficult for Sharon with her sunglasses in the dark.All three of them had received a free coupon for a massage and therapeutic rejuvenating treatments (and possibly some bonus organ enlargements free of charge) in Tikfijikoo Island!
Well, now Mavis was ready to go too, now that Fred had been mollified and she’d gathered the money for the trip.
In a sense, that was good she’d not received anything yet from Sha and Glo, it would allow her to imagine the wildest things!In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
A cloud-assisted demented rewrite, just for fun…
PERPLEXED BY THAT PARTICULAR case, THE sheriff HAD HIS glassES floatING BEFORE HIS eyeS.
SOME mean rather weird beings… THE brotherHOOD OF magic NEEDED TO SEND Elikozoe INTO A space Craft TO CARE FOR THE boy WHO felt six motherSHIPS COMING IN HIS dreams.
DURING THESE moments easily FORGOTTEN, SOME others young legends WERE sent Aside TO answer AND bounce WITH alone aspects THAT wondered HOW TO keep focused.
THE trees WERE laughing “yeah!” THEY SAID, AS Anita FELT cold AMONG THE roseS randomLY SCATTERED.
SOME told HER ABOUT love, AS SHE asked WHETHER dragons REALLY seemed LIKE nothing ELSE SHE HAD SEEN BEFORE.Chris turned wondering ABOUT nature THESE days WHEN everyone, Elizabeth INCLUDED, KEPT thinking WHAT THEIR hair looked LIKE FROM behind.
DEEP inside, SOME help began slightly TO COME TO THE lady AS SOON AS THE dark cloud HAD taken HER TO sleep. THE truth IN particular WAS LIKE A friend WITH purple COLOURS AND A skull IN HIS HAND, WHO sat WAITING FOR HER.
“let HOPE COME, despite whatever FATE bringS TO THE door! YOU must wait SOMETIMES, AS factS follow!”Nice Tina WAS caught floating ON THE STREAM, AND moving ALONG IN A green jogGING GEAR WAS Joe, BOTH full OF IDEAS THAT gave THEIR friends AN experience NEWLY created. BUT THEY needed magpieS AND tried FOR THESE creatureS INSERTION TO work.
FOR Arona, ALL WAS happening ON Earth LIKE SOME important dream. IT WAS LIKE dancing IN A real play, WITH THE sea NEARBY.
A series OF dog-EARED BOOKS WERE NEARLY outside, AND deep INSIDE, SHE KNEW THE novelS WERE close TO surface OUR dimension, WITH HER head looking BEYOND, AS perhaps Yurick WOULD AGREE.
HIS heart often sounds interesting, BUT OF ALL THE ones SHE liked, IT SHOULD BE herself.
THE Duane SHALL BE rememberED, SHE thought, IN DUE times…WITH THE goat, Anna suddenly giveS THE blue busy spiders SOME NEW reality, AND Kay IS getting hot. SHE HAD forgotten THAT handS COULD BE making names, AND SHOUTING HER CreEd, THE voice OF THE girl SAID IT matterED THAT THE story became shouted IN THE sky.
Eric WAS ENduring Sanso WHO loved THE sandY BEACHES.STAYING clear THIS NEW year DEMANDS SOME self AWARENESS, ESPECIALLY ON THE yellow CHAKRA points, TO ALLEVIATE UNNECESSARY physical pain.
CLAD IN teal, SHE WAS waiting FOR HIS parents’ words TO HAVE moved AND TO BE connected. Franiel HAD FELT within HIMSELF four OLD fatherS’ ADVICES, AND HAD AGREED TO TALK TO Salome’S face AND ANSWER HER call THAT HAD APPEARED quickly UPON THE wall AND HAD BEEN wandering OVER HIS bed.
HE careD FOR THE past, AND THAT VISION WAS telling. IN THE morning, HE SAW IT AS A gift, SHINING IN SOME DISTANT island, LIKE A moviNG presence.Yann VowED TO FIND HIS WAY IN THE soup OF linkS, AND FIND THE OLD godS’ energy THAT kept THE planetS MOVING.
HE heard SOMETHING, A FUGACIOUS moment following HIS ADMIRING OF THE beautiful weather, UNDER THE Glistening sun. A SINGLE dragon’S hands COULD nurse POTENT writing abIlITIeS, AND soon WOULD open GREAT awareNESS OF joy AND moveMENTS AND music WHICH WOULD MAKE HIM laugh OF ALL THAT HE WAS creating WITHIN THIS focus.Tracy FEELS away OF THE action. IT seems QUITE human… NOTHING IS white DURING twilight, SHE noticed, AND FELT given TO understand.
AS MRS Bellamy, SHE WOULD HAVE stopPED LONG ago, HAD NOT come THAT powerful mummy.
WITH Georges startING TO APPEAR, worry BECOMES quietNESS FOR Jib, AND crystal-CLEARNESS FOR Sam.
MANY years AHEAD IN A GALAXY far-AWAY, ANOTHER Dory IS named AND readS ABOUT DR Bronklehampton’s WORKS.
HAVING TAKING leaveS, AND BEING gone FOR ALL, OLD Hrih DELVES INTO THE skulls AND HIS eyes SEE A next hope IN A book.
MovementS HAPPEN FOR Claudio already… THE world woke UP IN surprise.
A known sense OF TIME–SPACE-travel APPEARS IN THE commentS, AS seen THROUGH light.Akita’S body AND mind started TO ACT LIKE A saint AND FEEL strange under THE change.
“TO danGER, bugger!” WAS HIS decision NO longer… HE FELT warm… Towards THE worlds treeS, askING HIMSELF IF IT WAS A game, HE SAW TWO male children PLAYING against EACH OTHER.
THEY managed TO show HIM THAT THE Murtuane WAS familiar.
THE whole air WAS speaking. IT sort OF opened ITSELF SO THAT HE knew later OF THAT SPECIAL room OF TIME AND SPACE, AND HAD THE WIND AGAIN BRUSH HIS skin similar TO WHEN HE WAS seeing home IN HIS HEAD.Felicity IN THE BEDlam SAW half-formS, COUNTING three OF THEM, INCLUDING Gustav IN THE saloon, AND Becky WHO WAS THINKING SHE WAS AGAIN IN THE wrong PLACE: A monastery!
SHE’D RATHER HAVE yourself BE A star, AND HERSELF BE HERE TO MAKE THE FUN postS AND playing lost.Eight powers smiled: true saying!
THE sisters focuses IN THEIR caveS HAD SOME fine land TO PLAY WITH.
Apparently sound WAS key once, BUT THE VOICES IN THE night speak UNCEASINGLY, AND TO write SOME great stories, SPEAK strongLY. THEY seem TO BE feeling yesterday SOME perfect movements…THE marmoset HAD FOUND A family, AND funny wordS TO process. IT laughed short GIGGLES…
AS FOR myself, SAID THE cat TO Floyd, I’D create A party-LIKE life, WHERE I DO AS I please, AND LET paper WORK AND feelINGS AND desireS AND tryING AND tellING TO monkey.
THAT shapeD SOME fun, AND syncHRONICITIES AGAIN happened SHORTLY.IN THE FLOWING water, “aum” SOUNDS RIPPLED IN A huge dear dance beginning TO REFLECT himself IN images. HE sighed AS HIS attention GOT INVOLVED IN THE trip AND HE remembered…
ON THE beach, obviously AWARE OF THE synchRONICITIES, THE creatures wanted TO CLAP THUNDEROUS applauseS.
LIVING THE dead GUYS’ ideaS…In reply to: Synchronicity
aahahhah Jib! these are great.
Maya and Raya! – yesterday Maya came up somewhere, hahaha I can’t remember what it was! only hearing the name Maya, and thinking that it was in someway connected to something, I associate the word with May, which is why it made an impression. Funny the Raya name, Eric. I really got stuck on Ray Caesars name yesterday, I kept thinking there is a synch here, but I don’t know what it is yet.
(actually the reason I read the magazine with the Ray Caesar article, was because of a funny name mixup. Hairdresser man told me there was a mixup in appointments because of 2 men with very similar names booking on consecutive days, something like Tim Brown and Tom Brown … one letter out anyway ….. leading to a double booking, and me having to wait … hence the magazine )
I spent some time looking at Octopus Girl yesterday, found her quite fascinating
I have just seen a programme with a whole room of people wearing white robes, because the spirits found it easier to work with people wearing white … well according to the programme. And they were selling bottled holy water.
In reply to: Synchronicity
Woot! Fantastic synchs Francie (ahaha, and trying to write “!!” on the mac keyboard, it keeps writing “88” instead
) – not minding the order at allAnother one that you did not mention, related to the website of Ray Caesar: an octopus mermaid ( see comment )
And, tonight, while dreaming, I had impressions of a character/essence named Raya (based on the first letters of our essence names), in a white toga, radiating peace and wisdom… perhaps an Olmec priestess, among other focuses…
On a side-note, there is a very popular 3D software named Maya, and Maya is a favorite focus name for Awan/Dawn, and yesterday, I came across a movie named Rescue Dawn in the TV program.
A funny one is that there is a character named Spook in that movie played by a Toby (Huss)… And it’s a spin-off from “Little Dieter needs to Fly”… mmm does that account for a “fly” sync?In reply to: Synchronicity
Ok, let’s add some more synchs then
When I wrote comment 508 in Malvina’s story, it was not specifically about skulls… but I recall the strong attraction I had toward the word “moaning” when Jarvis took his head in his hands… I didn’t write it down though but it was the meaning of it. That’s for the picture of the Skull in Dusky Moana
Yesterday, I had the impression of Sam also… after the unexpected visit of a friend who’s going to London today, I had the desire to write a comment about Sam receiving that visit, and this desire was coming over and over, along with the desire to write a comment about Andrimiñ… but I couldn’t find how to shape them. So I’m letting that go for now.
Well now, for you Francie, here is the flyman picture
How is it? Well don’t look at the framing of the pic and other details
And looking at the diamond skull, it really could have been in the latest Madonna concert :))))
In reply to: Synchronicity
Bubbles, skull, 3d software and other miscellaneous type synchs …
When I left for my walk yesterday, Eric said to me “happy bubbling”, as I left cafe I picked up newspaper off the rack and there was a big photo of a little girl blowing bubbles on the front page. It was a lovely photo, one which had won a photo competition, the child looked very happy. I was wondering what bubbles meant to me, did not think of the 8 thing, but that is a good point.
Yesterday I had a hair appointment. As I left the house my atttention was caught by a picture which came up on my computer of a skull Dusky Moana (children’s story about a photographer, treasure etc) Later I saw that Eric had started writing about the crystal skull again in the story. Eric’s comment
As I leafed through a magazine at the hairdressers I was interested in a story about an artist who does his work using 3d software, (I don’t know much about it computer 3d stuff, so was interested to see Jib had been playing with 3d software yesterday. ahahah also George and I are obsessed with flies at the moment, is this a synch? I would love to see the image you did Jib!). It caught my attention because of another image of a girl blowing bubbles. Also because the artist started off saying:
I was born in London, England on October 26 1958, the youngest of four and much to my parent’s surprise, I was born a dog.
which I found very funny really, in fact I found his whole Bio very amusing. (ahaha also very amusing none of our numbers in his birthdate, that makes an intriguing change )In the interview it talked about how he worked as a photographer in a children’s ward for a number of years, and this greatly influenced his work, endowing his subjects with surreal otherwordly qualities to help them cope with life. Quite a few of them have sort of insect type appendages.
also, just on the off chance anyone interested Ray Caesar’s Bio
The other image which caught my eye in the magazine was this one of the world’s most valuable skull, made of diamonds: The Diamond Skull (Interesting I was getting the skull imagery I thought, because I have not really been able to quite follow the whereabouts of this skull in the story, it has perplexed and bemused me a bit.)
Sorry to mess up the order of your next comment Eric. I often whisper my comments to myself when I don’t finish writing them in one go, and I was not expecting anyone else to be up writing. But I think that is a tremendous synch, particularly in relation to Tracy’s comment about the 888th comment and a huggy is a nice one for it to be. Tracy’s comment mentioning the 888th comment (Is this a synch or did Tracy already know about the 888th mark having been hit? oh who cares, lovely synch, that was evil twin popped in for a minute)
I had a Sam synch, well this is getting long. But anyway I was thinking about spiders as I left the supermarket (long story as to why I was thinking about spiders), Anyway Jib and I had talked about spiders in the story earlier, and as I looked up I saw the car plate coming towards me was X SAM X ….. (what does this mean? is it sam surrounded by X’s? or kisses from Sam ? hahah well I think I will go with that one )
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
You know, Leo, there was something funny about that guy, mused Bea. It almost seems like a dream…
Hmmm? Leonora wasn’t really listening, she was engrossed in the Yurara Fameliki website.
Bea was running her hands along a length of thin black cable. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with this cable, Leo, it just don’t seem right some’ow…
With a sigh, Leonora turned to face Bea and said, I’ll never bloody catch up with that Yurara story now. Three weeks with no internet, as fast as I’m reading a chapter, another three have started, it’s doing my f’kin’ ‘ead in.
Well I don’t know what your problem is all of a sudden, Leo, since when did you ever read anything in the right order?
Oh, bloody good point, eh, Leonora felt instantly cheered. I forgot that, it’s true. Matter of fact, she chuckled, I just got lost roaming around all the first chapters, Heh…..wasn’t even trying to get the latest lot straight.
What did you say it was called? asked Bea.
What was what called?
The website you were just going on about. Bea rolled her eyes.
Oh! heh….Yurara Fameliki; why?
There was an article in the Reality Times about them yesterday. Some batty old woman left them a fortune, apparently. Circle of Eights or something….
Circle of Eights? Leo had an image of interlocking circles that felt strangely familiar, meaningful somehow…
Yeah, this old lady was 88 when she died, and she was reading the 888th entry when she saw the ‘Buy A Drink’ link…she lived at 88, Faraway Close, too, Nottingham…..
How much dosh did she leave them?
£8,888,857,823
F’kin’ ‘ell….ooof! It could be that easy, eh. I want a ‘Buy A Drink’ link, too.
Well, a website would be a start, eh. Where you going to stick your ‘Buy A Drink’ link, on yer arse?
Heheh, bugger off Bea, Leo said good naturedly.
She was beginning to catch a few sparkly glimmerings of an idea.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
As soon as Anadron noticed the signal, he sent an energy thread to his friend Goldarny. The whole community was buzzing in the collective innernet of Asaris, the signal couldn’t have been clearer. It was one of the legendary devices sent to this world a few centuries ago. There were originally 9 of them. One had been broken or “lost”. The eight other devices had been silent for many years, and the Asarisi had thought the knowledge of these devices had been lost by the inhabitants.
Among many collective threads and more private ones, Anadron and Goldarny were exchanging energy.
The device had been lost for so many years that the Council had suspended the explorations to this world many years ago. Following the Salitre Massacre, their policy was if they were not contacted first they would not interfere. One of the eight remaining skulls had been almost activated for communication. Not quite yet. So they would not send anyone.
Both friends were thinking the same thing. Andrimiñ was currently away in another dimension, one with many portals… could he loose his way home? They were both quite novice at these explorations and they were indeed curious, very curious.
What was considered a green star was shining upon the land of Nerumyil, giving the purple sand of the beaches some shimmering magpie shades. Falghrus had been observing the human since one of the Daughters of the Sea had brought him here. He couldn’t see any reason for her action… The Zentauras were discrete and respectful creatures… mostly respectful of one’s position in the society, and Falghrus was not one of the few Ambassadors of his People. Interfering would have been very misplaced. All he could do was send a magpie to alert the Council, and it would decide the right thing to do.
One of his first reactions would have been to kill the man. None of them was allowed in this territory. Nerumyil had been hidden to their perception long ago. If that creature of the Sea hadn’t brought him here, he could never have reached the beach on his own. He had respected his position until now, though he had tried to dissuade the man to stay longer with his mental abilities. He was one of the Gatherer, but he had a few skills that he could have developed if he had chosen the path of a Healer.
But that creature again had warned him, almost breaking the rule. The man was under her protection.
The beach was a neutral territory. Between the Land and the Sea, no soul should be harmed. This was usually respected between the Zentauras and the People of the Sea. The humans were not part of this rule. And Falghrus had them in particular distaste.This one seemed quite weak. He would have helped him end his suffering without the protection she had decided to accord to him so graciously. But he won’t stop his observation… he would find a way.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Before leaving the castle, the fake Viscountess needed to check something on the skull…
Was it a genuine one? She had almost trusted the so-called experts of the auction room, while she knew perfectly well that they only could see what they knew. And they didn’t know as much as her.To her knowledge, there was only a handful of genuine old crystal skulls. But counterfeits were legions and a plague for such a skillful cat burglar as she was. Well, cat-burglar,… perhaps not as acrobatically as she used to… As a matter of fact, her life-long search for these skulls had suffered the competition of a little embonpoint… — the good thing being that those few sticky superfluous pounds had been perfect to impersonate the Viscountess.
In the past, she had come across a few of these fake skulls and most of them bore very similar indications leaving her to think stakes were high that they were coming from the same con-artist.She methodically drew a little dagger from a scabbard at her belt. Going to one of the window, she drew one of the curtains a few inches to reveal the pale sun of Shropshire which was already fading.
Then, she turned the jeweled hilt in such a special manner that a soft clicking sound was heard, and a beam of light started to converge from the sun rays into the dagger. She directed the ray coming from the tip of the dagger’s blade into the bottom of the skull, and hold her breath in expectation.Soon the skull started to glow a bluish light, and light poured out of the skull onto the walls in dancing symbols, while a soft buzzing sound was being heard around, started to drown her in a slightly dissociated state.
She cut the dagger’s beam very quickly, her heart pounding at the validation. It was a genuine skull. One of the six.She had to hurry, she needed to proceed on her investigations to find the missing ones.
The trunk was there. She took another key that she had around her neck, leaving the first one on the cupboard’s lock for the Viscountess to be freed as soon as she would be out.
With the key, she proceeded to open the high-tech lock of the armored trunk which opened with a blow of air.Her jumpsuit was here, along with the two turbo-reactor powered condor-wings that she strapped on her jumpsuit in very professional movements.
A few moments later, with her big dark sunglasses that gave her the appearance of an obese fly, Carla was flying high over the countryside of England, enjoying the soft gliding on the slightly damp air.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
As soon as she’d come back from her trip, Dory had planned to travel again very soon.
Of course, she had enjoyed tremendously being home, being with Dan and young Becky… yes, she had… the first day for sure…
Well… She was a born wanderer, she couldn’t do against her own nature, no need to beat herself for that, and feel guilty for leaving Dan and Becky periodically. Hopefully, Becky was very understanding, and perhaps that the fact that Dory was her stepmother made things easier for them both, without burdening their relationship with useless obligations towards one another.On the other side, many exciting destinations were on her list, and she barely knew where to start. One that had attracted her curiosity was the site of Jiroft in Iran, where the famed lost Kingdom of Aratta had been supposedly found very recently. Artifacts had been discovered on this site, predating our commonly supposed invention date of written language, which had fascinated Dory for a while, before she got lost amidst the wide spectrum of her other interests.
Well, all of this was of frenzying interest, but there were dogs and back issues…
Somehow, Dory had been struggling with lots of tensions in her back, and the more she forced herself moving, the worse the pain was. Finally beaten by herself, when no one else, friend, family or doctor could accomplish such a feat, she was stuck to a cushioned armchair for most of the day holding to her pain as to a stuck parasitic hated friend.
And then, there was the dogs.
As she was barely able to move, Dan had renounced to have her come with him and Becky to see Sabine, Becky’s mother, in Mallorca, where she had invited them for the Epiphany.
Secretly, Dory was happy to have to stay at home, and not to have to make pleasing faces to the horrid obsessive woman she could only stand a few minutes without having to go out and empty a whole pack of cigarettes to calm her down.
The only little drawback was that she had to take care of the dogs… And she was running short of dog’s food…Before leaving, Dan had left her a phone number of their new neighbours, a batty couple of Brits who had just rented the farm nearby, and with whom Dan was occasionally playing golf and lending a hand in small DIY work.
Reluctantly, Dory took the post-it and smiled at the familiar handwriting of Dan…BEATTIE & LEONORA FLETCHER : 933-157-821
She composed the number in a deliberate slow motion, which strangely felt very empowering.
— Hello! a quavering male voice answered
— Err… Mr Fletcher?
— Ms Fletcher,… herself, what can I do for you?
— I’m Dorothy Mc Leane, one of your neighbour, you probably know my…
— Oh, yes! Dorothy, may I call you Dorothy, Dan spoke of you so much that we were very eager to meet you, weren’t we Leo?A ruffling sound behind Beattie Fletcher seemed to approve.
— And is there anything we could do for you?
— Well, I’m awfully embarrassed to have to ask you, but I’m stuck at home, and my dogs don’t have much food left…
— Oh my dear! You did so very well to call us, didn’t she Leo? We’ll be at your home in a few minutes!
— But…
— Oh, no need to thank us for that, it’s all natural, after all that your delightful husband did for us! We see you in a moment…And with that the line was cut. Dory was a bit disconcerted by the strange couple, but decided to dance with what was coming to her doorstep (wishing it would not be flamenco), seeing that having placed these quaint people in her reality could not entirely be a stroke of wild madness… If only…
In reply to: Synchronicity
Great it works now
earlier today it wasn’t working, error 500!!!
and it’s 14:53 that’s again a demonstration of my great power
well a few synchs… since a few days, we are having with Eric synchs with the name Fletcher, related to Fletcher, the chief of the mutineer in the bounty…
there is also Jessica Fletcher in a TV series, who’s a novel writer… like crime books and so on… I don’t remember the name of the series in English but it’s “Arabesque” in French. (Murder, She Wrote In English)well yesterday I was looking for something… I don’t remember what it was and only the synch
I found that a new movie called Fletch would be created, and apparently Fletch is a series of books, about a man called Fletch , well actually Irwin Maurice Fletcher… who’s a journalist.
What I found funny again was that the writer created a spin off of the series of books after the introduction of a character named Flynn In the first movie the actor George Wendt plays Fat Sam
Well that’s all about Fletcher.
Going to work this morning, as we moved to a new building I took another way… and crossed a Celine Robert Street
and a Massue Street (massue is a club).I found that funny
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
He did recall his name in a dream. Jarvis.
A strange dream actually.
There was that woman… whose name he couldn’t recall though.
Her face was beautiful but he hadn’t felt any sexual attraction toward her… it was different, like he knew her.
Well, with his memory loss, he possibly knew her, someone close assuredly.
She was asking questions about this land he had beached on… and in the dream it appeared he knew many details, again that he couldn’t recall now he was awake.
It was more like a legend, not facts.
But now it was quite real to him.
It’s been 2 days since he opened his eyes on this purple beach, and he’s been busy collecting driftwood to make a fire. He didn’t dare venture into the forest, and if the legends about the inhabitants of Kandulim were true, he wasn’t welcome here.Wow he was feeling dizzy. His head was pounding repeatedly like one of the vangor drums. He dropped the twigs he had collected on the sand and took his head in his hands. The pounding was so loud that he began crying.
A flash, a soft feminine face surrounded by a fiery red hair and blue liquid eyes. She was smiling at him.
The pounding ceased at once, and he just had the time to see a movement in the forest. All was still now. His mind would suggest it was a hallucination fostered by that head ache… if his thoughts weren’t so scattered.Who was in that vision? Who was in the forest?
Was it the woman in his dream?He began to recall the strange vision he had before awakening on this beach.
