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  • #379
    AvatarJib
    Participant

      Sam had a sudden impulse… he went out to the body shop and bought some dyeing stuff…
      He ended with greenish and purplish hair with pistachio shades… brilliant he thought, brilliant.
      And then he focused a bit on his wrist and let the shape shifting take place… he was now wearing a beautiful lively phoenix tatoo. The bird had just been rebirthed and was still like a tiny pooh.. he was crawling up his arm and growing fast.

      With a big grin of satisfaction, Sam called his friends Tina and Becky and asked her where they were and told her to hurry, they had to meet the others at the grumbling lake in an hour.

      :yahoo_good_luck:

      #376
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        Tina thought of a great gift for her friend Becky.

        She purchased her a gift voucher for an hour’s consultation with Hari Amgic. Hari had helped Al considerably when he was facing similar hair loss issues. Mostly Hari worked on identifying core underlying beliefs, particularly in relation to hair follicles, which was his area of speciality. Also a bit of energy work was involved and advanced visualisation skill training, or something. Tina was hazy on the details. Al had explained it of course, at some length. The main thing was though, that his hair looked great now and Tina felt optimistic for Becky.

        Let’s hope it grows back before Sean gets here thought Tina, chuckling merrily and shaking her fine head of thick glossy curls. It’s 2033, anything is possible!

        Her advanced psychic skills told her something was up between Sean and Becky, although Becky had not said anything directly to her. Perhaps she was not aware herself yet.

        She actually had found a message on her phone from Sean the other day, but it was so slurred that she could not make out what he was saying. Probably asking after Becky. How cute!

        Dear Becky, about time she got herself another lover. She hoped Sean could cook though, not everyone enjoyed Becky’s rather creative, albeit nutritional, culinery offerings.

        #375
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          Tina politely pointed out, she was only reading the Reality Times, Becky’s news source of choice, and the sentiments and ideas expressed were not necessarily her own. She wondered, gently, why Becky was so defensive when she had only been asking for input.

          Was it because her hair was falling out?

          Anyway, even her new haircut could not disguise the big bald patch Becky had created, somehow, thought Tina, compassionately.

          #373
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Tina had been wondering if she wanted a child , and was considering the personal and ethical implications of this. There had been much discussion in the Reality Times recently of placing restrictions on the number of children couples could have, in order to counteract the growing population problem. This had been discussed many times over the past years, however the issues involved were becoming more pressing. People may be required to apply, and undergo suitability testing, if they wished to be parents. Areas such as any past criminal history, alcohol dependency issues, etc, may automatically exclude one from eligibility for parenthood. This was being hotly debated again, with many feeling it was violation of their personal freedom.

            She asked Becky what she thought. Becky was looking in the mirror and pulling faces.

            Oh doesn’t worry me. Yikes! I don’t want any horrid little rugrats anyway. Give me dogs any day. Do you like my new haircut Tina?

            #372
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Becky yawned and blinked. What a dream she’d had, full of babies! :yahoo_surprise: And they had all been squalling and crying at once, making her head spin and deafening her :yahoo_not_listening:

              Well, only a dream she said, and went to make coffee. :yahoo_coffee: Whilst eating her breakfast a little later that afternoon (she had overslept well past noon), she perused the Reality Times newspaper. :news: There was a big advertisement for the forthcoming opening of the new T.R.A.P. Amusement Park and it reminded her that Sean would be arriving soon from Dublin. :bounce:

              Unaware of any association with her thoughts about Sean, Becky picked up her telephone and booked an appointment for a haircut. :yahoo_on_the_phone:

              #370

              — The legend of Mævel — (Part III)

              When the blue fox had disappeared, deep into the woods, Mævel was left wondering if all of that had only been a dream. Perhaps it was just a dream, and something that would make her parents raise their shoulders in dismay.
              Especially since she had lost their gift carelessly they would say, the little pearl white ribbon…

              She picked up the clothes that were left hanging to dry up in the wind, and came back to the little house.

              Of course, her father Jorg noticed that she was not wearing the ribbon, but he was not much of a question asker, and things were or were not, and analyzing them was unnecessary for him. But of course, Ilga noticed it too, and she felt sad for poor Jorg who had endured so many sacrifices to buy the little ribbon that Mævel was no longer wearing. She wanted an explanation! Was it no longer to Mævel’s tastes, had Mævel lost it?

              So Mævel, who could not lie to anybody, told them her encounter with Blohmrik, the cursed god in the woods, in the shape of a wounded blue fox… and at each of her words, was seeing their faces more and more disconcerted.
              Their poor girl, who was already so different, had completely lost it,… ribbon and all that was left of common sense in her.

              So they locked her up in the bedroom, that she was now occupying alone, as all of her brothers and sisters had left. Just to save her from herself, and see if that would help her gain some more solid sense of reality.

              Mævel understood her parents, but she was deeply contrite that they could not understand what she had lived. Mævel was still doubting the reality of her meeting the blue fox, so she asked for some sign from the Gods before going to sleep, to see clearly.

              That night, Mævel dreamt of a dark-haired young man with a white diadem1 around his head, dressed in a cerulean blue tunic and wearing a sword. He was enshrouded in a warm light and as she took the hand he was extending, they were carried away by a springing scented wind into a meadow of multicoloured flowers, some of which she had not even known could exist. She had felt at home.
              When she woke up, in the middle of the night, Mævel was transfixed by the beautiful soothing dream. She could not remember much more, but he had told her something. That there was deep magic in her, and it would help her find her true home, but that she would have to gain back her true name from the Elder God who had took it from her.

              She quickly took her decision. She knew she had to search for the blue fox in the forest. But how could she escape the locked bedroom? She was starting to feel desperate again, but she remembered that there was some magic in her, and how she had felt it deeply true in her dream.
              As she was focusing on the warm expanding feeling of her dream, an old rusty key materialized in her hand.

              1 diadem: [ ˈdī-ə-ˌdem (dəm) ] from Greek diadēma, from diadein to bind around; akin to Sanskrit dāman rope — was originally a white ribbon, ending in a knot and two strips that were placed often on the shoulders, that surrounded the head of the king to denote his authority.

              #337

              You’re not serious, are you? Sanso raised an eyebrow at Arona (who had mysteriously materialized a baby in her arms, in the blink of an eye)

              You’re calling it YIKES? Oh well, fair enough….

              In a puff of smoke, a Crayola fairy appeared in front of them.

              Yes? she said, You called? I’m Fairy Nuf…that’s fun spelled backwards, in case you’re wondering how I got here.

              Sanso didn’t really understand what was going on, but had an urge to materialize a baby too.

              ~~~

              Thankfully the urge soon passed and he said to Fairy Nuf politely, There must be a mistake, but thank you for calling. I hope it didn’t inconvenience you.

              Call me anytime, I’m available 24/7, sweetie….and in an puff of smoke, she was gone.

              #357
              AvatarJib
              Participant

                Yann was thinking about their first kiss. They were not in physical proximity but the sensations were quite real, and it was enhanced by their mergence. When he talked about that with Quintin, his friend told him he had felt it too. He was in Scotland at that time, and they were playing energy games and creating connections. It was very intense and more and more intimate.

                Yann was in Scotland with his friend Bruno, and one night, as they were sleeping in the same bed, Yann was dreaming of Quintin, he was taking his hand. At that moment, Yann was also aware that his friend Bruno was taking his hand in the “real” world. He’d been thinking that his friend was channeled by Bruno, it was a fun idea :)

                They eventually planned a meeting in real life as soon as Yann would be back from Scotland… 4 days. Quintin even met Yann’s parents then, as his friend Bruno had organized a “surprise” for Yann’s birthday. When Quintin arrived at the train station, they both were feeling a bit awkward, didn’t really know how to say hello :yahoo_big_hug: :yahoo_thinking: :yahoo_kiss: :yahoo_thinking: well for now a hug was perfect. Yann was feeling a strong desire to kiss his friend, he was very attracted and the feeling was quite different from their energy games in Scotland. The physical proximity was creating barriers that weren’t there before… maybe the fear of being intrusive or aggressive…

                One thing at a time… they were eventually together for 4 days. It was a beginning.

                Quintin had some stuffs to take care of before they could go to Yann’s appartment. Something to do with his previous appartment, mail to check, some stuffs to take… Nothing particular to tell about that… Yann let Quintin do what he had to do, though he had a strong desire to stroke his hair. After a moment, that’s what he did.

                Quintin smiled. Yann was feeling an intense warmth in his body and he approached his head and kissed him. Well, that was awkward :)) but soon they were very comfortably lying on the bed and playing different games.

                Wow thinking again about all that was making him feel hot. Better go to work a little.

                #356

                Oh said Arona. All of a sudden she knew she had to be somewhere. She handed the sabulmantium to Sanso.

                She walked, and then she stopped and she waited.

                She did not have to wait long before they appeared. A stocky dwarf, whose presence, despite his small stature, immediately inspired respect. He was accompanied by a young woman, tall and graceful, with shiny golden hair. She was very pretty, but it was the peaceful expression on her face which really caught Arona’s attention. The woman was cradling an infant in her arms.

                Palani, the dwarf, smiled at Arona and held out some food for her. Some aromatic orange fruit she had never seen before, however she was so hungry by now she devoured it greedily.

                Your magic is powerful, said Palani. Arona wanted to deny it, but found she couldn’t. So she just nodded.

                The woman smiled. Here she said, holding the infant out to Arona. This is for you.

                Caught off guard Arona took the baby.

                I really am having the strangest time, she thought. She had no idea what to do with the baby, or why she was the one to look after it. But she held it carefully.

                Wait! she shouted urgently, as they walked away

                Why have you given me this baby. I can’t look after it. Are you coming back? At least tell me what is the baby’s name?

                They didn’t answer.

                Yikes said Arona.

                #353
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Nora Long was dying. She knew she didn’t have long left, and she had some affairs still to attend to before she was no longer able. Nora was a childless spinster, a frugal recluse with an uncanny knack for winning premium bond and lottery prizes; nothing big enough to attract much attention, but more than enough for her needs. Consequently, she had quietly amassed a fortune over the years ~ and she wasn’t about to let the state have it all.

                  Nora had spent most of her 88 years dreaming, and talking to ghosts and spirits. She wrote all of it down in notebooks, hundreds and hundreds of them, until the advent of the computer in more recent years. She had splashed out and bought one, and gamely taught herself how to use it, keeping her journals online from then on.

                  Nora discovered how to google one day. Wondering what in the world she might want to search for, a name popped into her head: Yurara Fameliki.

                  Nora had learned to trust her impulses, and she searched for the unusual name, double checking first with the voice in her head as to the correct spelling.

                  Nora began to read the story on the websites first page. Three days later, she was still reading it, as it grew day by day. Nora was almost sorry she had already chosen to die. At last she had found some people she could relate to!

                  But Nora was too weary to change her mind. She did have a plan though, a plan that cheered her greatly. On the websites pages she had noticed a little sign saying ‘Buy a Drink’.

                  #342
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Al was concerned about Tina. He wondered why at times it was like their moods were at the antipodes of each other. Like one was in summer when the other one was in winter. Of course, seasons had gone awfully awry in the past (well, in people’s perception at least), and cherry trees were at times blooming in the late autumn, so that was hardly a good metaphore. Enfin bref…
                    Sometimes he wished they could move to a part of the Earth were the differences were leveled or not so dramatic, but of course, that would be focusing unduly on what seems awry, and not appreciating the differences for what they brought in understanding for each other.

                    Like most people now, Tina and him were living in a free relationship, not bonded by written contracts, just by a mutual wish to be experiencing a common exploration. But lately, especially with the play writing, deep issues had surfaced between them, and he was no longer sure of what they were exploring, as it was like shifting sands. Of course, now, most people were shifted themselves, thanks to the new generations of children who were exceptionally gifted in accessing their own essence. But for them, in their mid-30s, there were still issues linked to their old patterns of thoughts, many deeply ingrained ways of thinking, coming from many generations before them.
                    That T.R.A.P. attraction thing was a good example of the differences. It was mostly an attraction park for his generation, not really for children, as they were greatly able of doing these kinds of inner-travels without the aid of technology —not that they didn’t enjoy it either.

                    Al was thinking of a gift for Tina. He wanted to show her that she had really transformed Jadra, or that they had come a long way since the wandering in the cave tunnels, or that everything started to make sense, even the invisible friend Blohmul…
                    Well, there were still mysteries around him, (not mysteries really, but things yet at the state of seeds, or potentials) but he was no longer a hair on the soup they cooked. He was the blue fox of Mævel, and more interestingly, that cursed god was the son of Mirÿnda, the Goddess of Mirth —but that, Tina had not realized yet…

                    Actually, now that he was looking at the entry, Al noticed that Jadra was last seen with Mirÿnda, and that struck him as something more than a coincidence…

                    #341
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      As Sean pushed open the door of the Dunloughpadraisobahairiedunkennyloughaire Arms, the swirling dampness of the Dublin street was transformed into a scene of noisy smoky conviviality. He pushed his way slowly through the crowd towards the bar, glancing up at Oscar the pub parrot, who was singing the refrain from The Irish Rover.

                      The usual, Padraig, Sean said to the barman, and a packet of cheese and onion crisps.

                      He found a stool to sit on next to a sticky ringed round table surrounded by plump gossiping matrons and wiry cloth capped men with bulbous red veined noses. Sean exchanged a few pleasantries with them about the weather, mainly about how unpleasant the weather always was, and then lapsed into reverie.

                      The Big Apple…..that’s what they used to call the famous city, before they renamed it New Venice. Sean was curious to see the changes, not least the bright yellow gondolas that had replaced the taxi-cabs in the watery streets.

                      On impulse, Sean fished his mobile telephone out of his pocket and dialed Tina’s number, but the line was engaged. He finished his pint of Guinness and called to Padraig to pull him another one. He tried Tina’s number again; this time a recorded message informed him that Tina had switched her telephone off.

                      An hour and a half and seven pints later, Sean gave up trying to phone Tina and lurched home to bed.

                      #331

                      Becky was wondering what on earth Finn was on about. Gentle bemused and perplexed voice? Well, fair play to her, thought Becky, if she can here typewriting on a computer screen as bemused gentle voices, she’s a better man than I , Gunga Din……

                      #327

                      The rain was pouring cabbages :weather-showers: for several days now, almost the whole week… Baul was fed up with that filthy weather of Cromash Tur. The capital of this 4th kingdom was quite nice and pleasurable, but it lacked sun and warmth… Baul had come to Nâabooli, the capital of Cromash, in order to settle an arrangement. Something quite particular that he couldn’t find in his own land of Erpet Mesh. He’d been travelling for weeks with his guards and servants when he arrived in the city and all that for some foo’kin rain! But something more important than brooding and pouting was on his mind.

                      Tonight he was alone, no servant, no guard… he was wearing a black coat made of goat skin on his usual blue and yellow silk robe, he couldn’t wear anything else, his skin was too smooth and delicate. He was spending great amount of money to take care of his body, it was his own pride, and he considered himself as a very handsome and appealing male.

                      The man he was about to meet wasn’t hiding, but oddly was acting in full sight. Nonetheless, Baul didn’t want to be seen with him, Baul was an ambassador of sort from Erpet and he couldn’t be seen entering in an Assassin’s house. In Cromash, the Assassins were quite a respectable and wealthy, but in Erpet they were outlaw… one of the numerous differences between the two kingdoms, one they would never agree upon. Baul found it quite useful though; many times he’d met Ar’Am Khra, one of the best of this profession.

                      For this meeting, as always, Baul had chosen a tavern, the Landgurdy, called after one of the former 12 kingdoms. The 4 remaining ones were at war most of the times, they couldn’t maintain peace more than a few years at best, and Baul had found many ways of benefiting of this situation. Merchant, Ambassador, and much more. He was thriving with plotting :face-angel: :face-devil-grin: and it was quite useful to be one of the ambassadors of Erpet Mesh, offering him safety wherever he was going. It was one of the few respected rules that were common between the Warring Kingdoms.

                      The Landgurdy was quite a crowded tavern, and the owner was a friend of his, though not really officially. There was that private room on the rear of the building, know only of a few chosen “friends”, so they could enter unnoticed by the usual customers and by would be spies. The rear door was seemingly leading into another building, and some arrangements had been made over the years.

                      Baul knocked the code at the door, and a vasistas was open quickly and closed even more quickly. The door opened then and he entered in the darkness of the house. If anyone opened the door, he or she wasn’t there anymore, but Baul knew the place quite well as it wasn’t his first meeting with the Assassin.

                      :fleuron:

                      The Assassin was waiting in the small room, square shaped with only a wood table and one chair. No window. One dim lamp.
                      He was sitting on the lone carved chair. His clients needn’t sit.
                      They were mere beggers.
                      The one that was coming now, was quite amusing.
                      The first time he met him, Baul was quite young and inexperienced in his own skills. Though he was quite ambitious, Ar’Am Khra had to admit it.
                      The usual reaction when seeing the Assassin’s pale complexion was shivers and disgust. He was used to it and it was a game that he had enhanced with a little bluish glowing dagger tattooed on his forehead.
                      The dagger was the mark of his profession, though not so obviously exhibited by the others. Cowards.
                      At that first meeting, Baul didn’t react the way his other clients did. And it was not influenced by his utmost concerns at that time. Beside his inexperience he was quite engrossed in what he had called his “mission”.
                      Ar’Am Khra did not know of any mission, there were merely contracts.
                      And he was doing what his clients were paying for.
                      Accomplishing his contract even after the death of his clients.

                      He was remembering of an amusing event.
                      A client had hired him to end the life of another man, and the second man went a few days after to his office to beg him to kill the first man.
                      The Assassin accepted the contract.
                      A few days later he killed the second man.
                      He executed the first one not long after that, thus respecting the second contract. :yahoo_skull:

                      He never questioned the motives of his clients.
                      It was not for him to judge or to understand. Though most of the time he did understand quite well.
                      His main motivation was the payment and his own pride in expressing his skill with subtleties and newness.

                      The door opened smoothly. Baul entered the room.

                      :yahoo_alien:

                      :fleuron:

                      Yann and Quintin had an interesting chat during the afternoon. Yann had some new impressions about the map of Lord Wrick annotated by Quintin. Something about the Warring Kingdoms, triggered by a dream of an Assassin in one of them. It was frustrating not to be in the same room so Yann could show Quintin directly on the map, but with Internet there were some other options.

                      The names of these lands were Ata’Meliu, Dam Adbor, Erpet Mesh and Cromash Tur. These 4 Kingdoms were rather scattered on the Lan’Ork part of the continent, pieces and bits everywhere, though Ata’Meliu was more in the center and the South of the Lan’Ork, Dam Adbor in the East and in the North, and Cromash Tur in the West and South West parts, Erpet was divided in 2 main areas, one located on the Northern land just before the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer, and a smaller one lost in the middle of Ata’Meliu.

                      Yann only had the impression of 2 of the capitals, Naat Medin was the one of Erpet Mesh and Nâabooli of Cromash Tur.

                      Quintin just sent him the map so he could draw some more comments and sketch the boundaries of the Warring Kingdoms. He didn’t know why, but he felt some movements were about to begin, some reconfigurations of the borders :world:

                      #326
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        The unusual overwhelming heat, which had begun with the spring equinox had finally temporarily receded with the appearance of big opaque cumulonimbus filling the sky with a mute thunderous sound. The flickering glow was no longer enough for Raphael to distinguish the small dark characters dancing before his eyes, the storm having let the night pounce on them earlier than it should have.
                        So, Raphael closed his thick leather-bound book and put it back into his burgundy backpack bag, inhaling deeply the air of the dusk, mollified by the music of the raindrops that ricocheted now discreetly on the rusty steel plates.

                        The remaining passengers began to hurry around a meager dinner wrapped in dirty newspaper sheets, displaying energy resources that he felt incapable of. Feeling no hunger at all, he decided to go on the pontoon to taste the moisture exuding in the evening, this celestial water, soothing down the fever of this trip, which drew to a close. The boat continued to rend imperturbably through the obsidian sea, and the thick enveloping fog prevented them to distinguish the lights of the city that he could feel at a distance.

                        This was not the first time, but at each of his return, the city seemed changed, this time ghostly apparition, once glittering pearl. This was undoubtedly one of the reasons which had him leave it, as others would have done with a lover, to better appreciate this fleeting moment of reunion.
                        The book had been given to him by a stranger he had met, and was part of his mission; he didn’t usually accept assignments in this city where he was too obvious, but the stranger had assured him nothing illegal would be required of him, just delivering a book.
                        He had leafed through the book, just to make sure there was no foul play on the part of this strange man with amber eyes that seemed to keep changing colours. But the book had seemed innocuous. Even worse, it did not make any sense for Raphael. The chapters were randomly numbered, and the text seemed to keep changing. Perhaps it was Raphael’s mind which played tricks on him, but it was baffling for him, as he was accustomed to keep his senses sharp as a dagger. Whatever,… The man had paid, and a plump pile of money even.

                        The insistent rumors of a mysterious illness which had already claimed fatalities within the walls of the city had not deterred him to go there —knowing that the few people caring about him would have preferred to see him flee this destination, so certain as they were to be themselves immune to the contingencies of life. Even the bald adipose captain of the ship, Fat Yong Choi had seemed wary of having a pale-skinned foreigner coming on board of his boat, but he had quickly seen that Raphael was no common traveler.

                        But there was no longer time to rehash those turpitudes, the harbour finally appearing, like a halo glow from the contours of which some faint sounds escaped, soon to be stifled by the purring and cracking of the bulging vessel.

                        :fleuron:

                        The winds began to sweep the docks violently, causing the cargo, now anchored, to oscillate wildly, like a huge weeble at the hands of the elements. Fortunately, due to the alarming news from the city, the boat was only half full, and the unloading was smooth. Raphael, unnerved by the long journey, only wanted to walk, but patiently followed the slow pace of the procession which led him outside of the harbour’s enclosure, even before he had noticed it.

                        Raphael wanted above all to rest, but didn’t care to be bothered speaking to someone. He preferred to sink deep down in his thoughts while walking through the streets, rather than lose this feeling of freedom. Freedom to choose his own itinerary, without a word to say, entirely open to the silence of the streets.

                        The fine drizzle had indeed deserted the streets making the city infinitely enjoyable for him. It was indeed just as he liked it best, at dusk, just faintly resonating with the sound of his own steps.
                        Empty — a few passersby in search of a shelter nearby. He imagined to be a ghost haunting these places without life, enjoying the feeling of being the predator felinely prowling in this scene without spectators, shrouded in the reassuring complicity of the night.

                        #324
                        AvatarJib
                        Participant

                          Yann was wandering about in a pet shop, looking for nothing in particular.

                          Quintin had said something about inserting the shift now… well, that sucked… Yann was in a very bad mood, feeling like everyone was against him, nothing was going as he wanted to, and most of all he had lost inspiration. No desire to draw, or to write anything. His life was not fitting. Or so it seemed.

                          Looking closer to the bird cages, and the birds inside, he was amazed at their similarities and their differences. Their shapes and sizes, their colors was the obvious parts. Their shouting also, it was quite messy, and stridulent. But what he noticed most was their behavior, some were just living their own life, proud of themselves and quite fearful when Yann was getting closer to the cage, and others were just flocking together like they couldn’t live apart. Some were singing, some crying, some just quiet and moving nervously or randomly…

                          He went to the parrots room, it was written babies on the cages… they were like full sized parrots to him, very big birds!!! very colorful and impressive. But looking closer, they were not so healthy, their feathers were sort of dull, and even bad shaped and like the parrot had been attacked savagely :yahoo_thinking:. Not very impressive eventually.

                          A few days ago things had become quite erratic at his work… he had felt a strong desire to change, change everything. First he couldn’t understand that desire and he resisted strongly, but soon he created some uncomfortable manifestations. Breathing difficulties, headaches, itching, and even boredom. He just felt the desire to tell bugger off to everyone.

                          The birds were getting boring actually, he left the shop.

                          Walking in the street among the crowd was kinda soothing his uneasiness… though at times he was like feeling what they were strongly projecting. There was that Muslim woman with her chador, and as she went right past him he had that twinge of anger against her, coming from nowhere, and as soon as he noticed that, he just moved his attention to his energy and it was over, no more anger or polarization. Was it his own feelings or was it from that young woman?

                          Whatever, he just enter another shop, home shop, with little thingies and furniture… all these statues, the ones looking like 1920’s ladies were the most appealing… and there were these fairies also, wasn’t it Fiona who had told him about a dream where she was the fairy princess?
                          :yahoo_daydreaming:

                          :yahoo_alien:
                          Oh! that pic… the man had a blue skin… with dolphins on his face creating shadows… the pic was a blend of sort, very funny, and the man was cute :yahoo_whistling: as was the shop assistant…

                          Time to leave… he went off the shop and continued walking. Bright sun, fresh air, all was clearing. His mood also. He thought again about what he and Quintin had been planning. It seemed something crazy, but it also seemed related to what was happening in his life. Since Vienna, their relation had become closer and closer, and for the most part it was very endearing, very fun and also very intense. All these energies, all this creativity, it had to be part of a bigger picture.

                          :yahoo_oh_go_on:

                          Thinking about that, his friend Dory had told him about a bigger picture once, and he was teasing her about that… but now it was making sense. His abilities to remember his dreams had increased in a way, though most of the time he did not remember his dream in the morning. He’d noticed he could if he was just relaxing a bit and let his attention go back to that dream self of his… At times he had also some weird experiences about parallel realities and shift of perception, like the room is translucent and he can move through it in another dimension, very freaky that one :yahoo_not_listening:

                          #323

                          — The legend of Mævel — (Part II)

                          The young fairy princess, whose secret name had been forgotten, and thus her very existence to whoever had known her, grew up as a beautiful child.
                          Mævel she was, and the youngest of the clan too. Her delicate features stood out of the many children that Jorg and Ilga, her human parents already had, and they first saw her as probably their most useless child, being frail and unfit to the works of the woods. But she’d been saved from a sure death, and that had proved to them that the child was some odd gift from the Gods.

                          Mævel looking at her brothers and sisters, was constantly reminded of how different she was, as small and fair and fragile as a sparfly’s egg. She helped her mother Ilga as much as she could in the kitchen, preparing meals for the clan. Her parents did not know how she could ever get a husband, as she would never be much of a great cook either.
                          So, she was feeling not fulfilled by what she was doing. She loved her parents, and sisters, and brothers, but there was something else that she did not know how to express.
                          During the springing and sunny seasons, and even the rainy and icy one, she would go after her works had been done to the little meadow brook, and watch for hours the little rosy trouts dancing in the clear waters.

                          And much of her young years passed, and she learned how to cook, how to sew and how to wash clothes and many other tasks that could help the family. She had improved much in her skills and could do wonderful adornments to her sisters and brothers clothes. But noone cared about the adornments, which would be useless for them. But they loved their little sister nonetheless, though they did not understand.
                          Soon, all the elder brothers left the house, one by one, and the sisters too. And as Mævel turned twenty one, she was left alone with old Jorg and old Ilga.

                          That day, her parents had offered her a pearl white ribbon, for her to tie her hair, and they had thought it would probably please her, as it was as useless a thing as their mind could imagine. And indeed she was delighted by the gift, and to please her parents, she had danced and sung in the night, barefooted on the floorboard, her shiny golden hair swirling around her, as they both loved her to do.

                          The next day, Mævel went to the brook to wash some clothes, when she noticed a reddish bluish spark of light coming from the forest nearby. How strange she thought. Perhaps it is only my imagination. But soon, a plaintiff cry came from the same direction, and she was deeply moved by the cry.
                          Leaving her clothes to dry up, she went to the forest, knowing she could trust her instincts and that no wild beast would harm her. Calling to see if someone was there, a voice called her, crying “here, here!”

                          Behind some fern trees, she was surprised as she saw a wounded blue fox. Was it the fox that had spoken?
                          — Yes, that was me, answered the blue fox
                          — Oh, a talking fox! You are wounded, aren’t you? asked Mævel
                          — Yes, a stupid arrow from a stupid hunter… I can’t extract it, would you help me?
                          — Of course, answered Mævel, hold on a second.

                          And she leaned forward to draw the arrow from the fox’s leg, holding fast so that it would not hurt the creature. She was just knowing what to do, as if she had done it many times already. Then she drew out her white handkerchief, and bandaged the bleeding wound, tying it tightly with her pearl white ribbon.

                          — I must leave now, said the fox, I am greatly indebted to you, young lady
                          — Will you tell me your name?
                          — I am called Blohmrik. And may I inquire as to your name?
                          — I’m called Mævel, but you can call me Mæ
                          — Such a lovely name…
                          — How come you are a talking fox?
                          — I was not always in the form that you see now. This form is due to a curse from the God of the Forgotten, from which I foolishly tried to stole secrets when I was a young god learning magic.
                          Ooh, so you are a god? Mævel was amazed
                          — Oh, smiled sadly the fox, as you are also, though you probably don’t realize. Gods are not so different than what you think…
                          — Oh, really? So there isn’t anything I can do for you, is there?
                          — You have already done much for today Mæ
                          Mævel was blushing… She dared ask to her new friend
                          — And will I see you again?
                          — Perhaps sooner than you know.

                          #321

                          — Daddy, daddy! I want to come with you!

                          Young Peregrine had been running after his father at the moment when he had put the letter in his pocket ready to go off the streets.

                          — Oh, really? Sean Doran Wrick was weighing the possibilities.

                          Peregrine was still in fluffy rabbit slippers and pajamas, but he had a very determined look on his young face.

                          — Then perhaps we should ask Guinevere to come with us too?
                          — OK, I go ask her!

                          And off was Peregrine, running down the hall of the large Dublin apartment to his sister’s room.

                          Sean was thoughtful… Well, Edmund had said that the private jet would be ready in an hour, so that was leaving him some time to have a nice beer at the pub before departing to New York to see the Traveling Reality Amusement Park, or T.R.A.P. for short, as the imaginative publicists of his father’s company had decided to brand the new revolutionary concept.

                          Sean had been supervising the very first prototype before he had met Margaret, and then had got more interested in his “real” family life than in amusement travels in fairy lands… But nonetheless his father had trusted his flair, and had kept him informed of the developments of the project.
                          Now, for the premiere of the T.R.A.P., he’d got some VIP invitations, but grieved with Margaret’s death, he had not wanted to go there at all. That is, until Becky had spoken about it…

                          Peregrine came back with a pout on his face.
                          — She’s not sure if she wants to come, he said…
                          — Oh well. Then, let me have my beer, and I come back in a few minutes to see if you and your sister are ready. I’ll pick up whomever is ready and packed up.
                          — Yipeeee! Peregrine’s eyes were gleaming with joy.

                          #320
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Sean put the letter in his pocket. Perhaps a trip to the Amusement Park wasn’t such a bad idea. He always enjoyed Becky’s company, and he was curious about dear old Al. Becky’s postscript hadn’t made a great deal of sense, but then, Becky was a bit like that. The truth of it was, he needed a break.

                            Sean wondered if Tina would be there. He remembered their brief meeting, and how he’d been struck by her sweet voice. And Sam, dear funny Sam!

                            Sean put his hat on, and walked out into the clammy Irish drizzle. A pint of guinness in The Dunloughpadraisobahairiedunkennyloughaire Arms to celebrate, I think! He patted the letter in his pocket and smiled for the first time in months.

                            #317

                            Ibn al’ Gruk was weary.
                            That lone grake he had seen flying over the desert settlement this morning had baffled him.
                            Usually, such creatures where not migrating at this season, and this one was lone too, which was all the more baffling.

                            The old gripshawk had seen many things in his life, but this was surely a presage of importance. In the myths of his people, the big colourful birds were once thriving in the desert oasis, where they were thought to have appeared in the Old Times. But having been extensively hunted down as food for the gripshawk tribes, they had moved away, and the balance had been broken.
                            It had prompted lots of the tribes to move apart, in search of food and exchanges, and few of them were now still living in the deserts as they did in the old ways. Many of them, for many generations now, had been creating cities on the coast, and the most flourishing one was Chafik’ An, where a traveling portal had been erected by the humans from Lan’Ork to facilitate exchanges and trades.

                            All of that, despite his old age (that his long mop of white angora hair under his chin could account for), Ibn al’ Gruk had only heard all of this through the lineage of his ancestors, but he had seen some of the conflicts that had been created, and he understood that change again was in the air.

                            He felt like he could weave a new tale to entertain the settlement tonight, and perhaps give them inkling as to the new changes to come.
                            For he felt changes were coming, and that they had been in motion already.

                            ***

                            The night was clear, and lots of people had gathered around the big bonfire. They all loved these regular meetings where everyone would meet and share food, drinks and over all, gaiety.

                            He started to drum low deep sounds and cleared his throat.
                            A fit of cough got him by surprise, but it was just a hairball that he spat in the fire, which set ablaze immediately, providing some dramatic effect that hushed everyone down.

                            “In a mysterious land far far away,” started Ibn al’ Gruk, with a growling voice…

                            ***

                            Egypt, 2657 B.C.

                            Lekshen had dreamt of Set that night. The god had appeared to him in one of his familiar forms, that of a long snouted animal .
                            Lekhsen was wondering why the god had requested such a task for him to do, but he was certainly in the perfect position to accomplish such a task.
                            Like Set, Lekhsen came from Upper Egypt, the arid land, and he had managed to get a high-ranking responsibility in fertile Lower Egypt as a scribe thanks to the unification efforts of Pharaoh.

                            But Pharaoh’s daughter had just died… right after her 10 year old brother, and Pharaoh’s himself felt He would not live much longer.
                            Which would mean that the closest male in the family would be likely to get on the throne of Egypt. And that would be bad news for people like him, as the brothers and brothers-in-law of Pharaoh did not appreciate much His policy.

                            In the dream, the strange creature had asked him to hide something with the mummy of Pharaoh’s daughter. It had told him people would forget about how Set was fighting for Ra, the Sun, each night that the bark was traveling on the dangerous underworld waters. They would forget, and would demonise him and his people, and he, Lekhsen would have to write the story, and bury it with the Princess. His status would allow him to do it unscathed.

                            “Would people ever remember they once were One?” had asked Lekshen to the god.
                            “Only you can tell” had the creature answered.

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