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  • #1926
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Q: Okay. What happens to things we create, like with
      characters? Are they merely thought-forms, being extensions of
      ourselves? Or do they … CAN they move on and become more?

      ELIAS: This is dependent upon your choices and how you are
      manipulating energy.

      Now; in this, let us view what you in physical focus term to be
      artistic expressions, in the area of musical composition and of
      painting expressions. These are two obvious examples within your
      physical creations that you may view certain qualities of the
      expressions.

      Now; in this, some expressions, within either musical compositions
      or expressions of illustrations or paintings, may appear to be
      merely an expression of the individual and hold the energy signature
      of that individual, but they appear or seem to not extend any
      farther, so to speak; this is figuratively speaking.

      In other terms, you may encounter other types of musical
      compositions or illustrated or painted compositions, and they appear
      quite differently. They appear not merely to hold the energy
      signature of the individual that has created them, but they also
      seem to hold an energy of their own, as if they have been created
      into an entity of their own.

      Now; the reason that you connect with this recognition of these
      types of expressions is that the composition does hold the energy
      signature of the individual that has created it, but what it also
      may hold is an aspect of that individual focus which has been
      allowed to be projected outwardly and has been allowed to continue
      independently of the focus.

      This is a similar action to fragmentation, but in very physical,
      figurative terms, a much, much smaller scale.

      This would be likened to any individual, any focus, any essence
      projecting an aspect of itself into any other element within its
      physical creation – a creature, a plant, a rock. It matters not. You
      hold the ability within essence to be projecting an aspect of
      essence or of a particular focus into any of these elements to be
      experiencing the creations of that element of your reality, such as
      a creature or any vegetation, an ocean, a mountain, a rock. It
      matters not.

      In similar manner, you may project an aspect of yourself into one of
      your creations or all of your creations or several of your
      creations, and in this, not merely you shall recognize that this
      creation appears to take on, so to speak, a life of its own, in your
      terms, but other individuals shall recognize this quality also, for
      you have allowed yourself to project an aspect of yourself into your
      physical creation, therefore breathing into it its own
      manifestation, allowing it to be continuing within its own element,
      so to speak, within its own right, in a manner of speaking. Are you
      understanding?

      Therefore, this be your choice of how you shall be creating
      within your creativity and what you shall project within it. Appear
      it not strange to you that certain individuals may be deemed as
      great masters and they shall be revered for their creations and
      their creations shall be enduring throughout your linear physical
      time, and other individuals may be creating and their expressions of
      creativity do not hold this quality? This is the reason…”

      #1027

      She was the first to notice.

      First there was a loud bang, that she perceived as a shock wave rippling all around.

      Then, she felt a strange flabby thing with bat arms fall into the ocean, while the other energy was coming their ways. “Wow,” she couldn’t help but think; “they’re having unusual nightly activities around for such a small isolated island.”

      The dog resting by the fire got alerted then, and tried to wake up the others. But apparently, they seemed oblivious to it.

      Then, something stranger happened. The small white rabbit started to talk, as if it had been aware all along.
      “It’ll take a while for him to see you again Kay, just don’t yap like a silly dog… Besides, you’ll disturb our guests”
      “Guests?” the dog answered back.

      The moment after, the rabbit had disappeared from the girl’s lap, and was standing between her and the dog.
      “Welcome, Balbina”, he told her.

      “How do you know my name?” she was aghast, unable to say if it was for the talking rabbit, or for the fact it knew her name.
      Unperturbed, it continued “It’s a busy night. There are lots of things happening, and we hope you’ll stick around. It may be helpful for our friends here.”
      “Er… why not… I mean, yes, sure. And you are?”
      Yuki, at your service. I’m not really a rabbit of course, but that form is convenient”
      “And cute too…” she said tentatively
      “Thank you”

      Balbina had never thought a rabbit could blush, but she would have bet it was the closest thing to a blushing rabbit she had just witnessed.

      “Sorry to interrupt you,” Kay said, but who are the other guests?

      a shrilling voice came as an answer OOOOooohh a campfire! How cuty pooh! Wait till Sha and Glo see that, we could have some roasted marshmallows and pork chops! I’m feeling soooo hungry…”

      “Great… So much for our little secret expedition,” Claude sighed as he woke up.

      #985

      The door of the garage opened with a creaking sound, and Madame Chesterhope sped up into the gritty alley.
      In that dimension where she had hidden her command base, people were a bit sloppy about roads and tarmac, so she had designed a little modification on her machines to be able to levitate in some of the less practical areas; but she had to admit,… she loved the vibrations and bumps that the motorbike created with the friction of the ground surface.
      She started to giggle, all enthusiastic about the speed and the wind in her hair, that she ignored the road sign indicating that the road was flooded some miles ahead. The rain had been pouring cabbages all past hexades, so much so that her leather suit was in all honesty the best thing she could have worn, not to mention the fact of course, that it was making her totally sexy.
      Two peasants were coming her way, looking at her with wild eyes like they had just seen something otherworldly. Ahahah she laughed, the fools would soon have forgotten everything about it (another handy and sly magical modification she nodded to herself). Looking in her rear mirror, she could still see them wiggle their hands in a frenzy… What the fl…!

      :fleuron:

      On the road, the two peasants wondered what in the name of Shaint Lejus was that rider… But worse, it was heading straight to the pool that the swollen river had made recently, outpouring on fields and little sniggly and thorny paths, like this one. Making desperate signs to be seen and warn it, they watched in horror the black podgy thing with flabby flapping schpurniatz arms sink straight to the bottom of the pool.

      :fleuron:

      The landing was a bit bumpy, but she found her balance quickly. Those transdimensional puddles were a bit rough to get accustomed to, but once you knew how to manipulate it, you couldn’t forget it.
      Now, all she needed to got to the location she was heading to was to hop through a few more transdimensional puddles.
      Actually, all sorts of puddles could do the job, water puddles, even oil puddles… or run-over poodle puddles for that matter. She preferred water ones, for the quality of water was very fluid, and allowed for easier defocusing. Lately she had tried transdimensional exhaust fumes clouddles, but that was a bit disorienting more than helping.
      As far as she could tell, this first one had been projecting her to a dimension in between Earth and the Duane. Incorporating vibrational qualities of the two, with a little more rigidity though. The machine needed a little time to stabilize and get prepared for the next transdimensional jump.
      As far as she could tell, she was in a place that was not unlike her birthplace, in the countryside of England. There were occasionally some giveaways that she still wasn’t quite there yet, like an erratic flying schpurniatz, but she was close now.
      A few meters in front of her, she could see a lovely puddle that could do for the next jump. A bit small for her… well, motorbike, what were you thinking… but that would probably do it. She took another breath, then pushed the TDPP (Trans-Dimensional Puddle Propeller) button.

      :fleuron:

      Flof-flof-flof-flof…
      Bugger, bugger…. What the bloody heck!

      Straw was flying all over her hair, and obfuscating her vision… Darn last puddle had to much mud in it, and her concentration went off for a split second, heading her towards a field of barley.
      Turning round and round for a moment in complete disorientation, she finally pushed the levitation button to take a little altitude.
      Oh, now,… at least she could tell she was in England, because she knew that place.
      How perfect! She could now just move into the dimension to the Pacific island. The GPS included in the modern expensive motorbike had been bipping as soon as it had found again the satellites, and it was now pointing the direction.
      Giggling again, she pushed a new button and disappeared into the sky in a supersonic puff of smoke.

      :fleuron:

      a few days later, Chestershire, UK

      AFP - 2008-07-21 - An new amazing design has been reported by eye-witnesses
      on a crop of barley of a local farmer along with reports of strange booming sounds
      and orbs of light. A sight to behold, the delicate intricacy of these interwoven
      patterns is believed by many to be the work of the Crop-circle Makers, some
      alien intelligence desiring to communicate with us. The theme of this crop-circle
      is thought to be a variation on planet Venus cycles, and would be highlighting
      the number of cycles lefts until the notorious end-date of Mayan calendar,
      Dec. 21st 2012. Scientists have brushed off the allegations of elderly pranksters,
      as this one seemed to have required levels of astronomical knowledge far beyond
      human intelligence.
      #954
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Sanso was receiving a communication

        which he translated as:

        “You are invited to The Elsepace Arrangement. Everything allowed. Everything true. Blatant contradictions harmonious.”

        #928

        Passing through the security cordon of the giant spiders had been relatively easy, thanks to the indications telepathically passed down to them by the Snoot .
        With Anita on her back, Yurmaela the gruffoon had come back to the borgulm tree where Claude had been left to watch. After a moment of surprise at the unexpected apparition, he didn’t take long to decide whether he wanted to stay or not and had jumped on the broad back with the little smiling girl who was grabbing on the coarse hair of the beast.

        Keep you energies and your attention close to us, said Yurmaela Just like Akayli is doing with your parents, Anu. Though they have plenty of eyes, the giant spiders mostly rely on their energy perception, and they won’t see you if you stay within our energy field.

        A few minutes later, they were all standing in front of the growirling wortex, partially masked by the bark of the huge babul tree, which was standing out with its massive appearance. Flames of what seemed to be dark floating matter were pulsating very slowly, enhancing the thumping sound of their hearts.

        Ready to come back home sweet Anu? Akayli said fondly to the little girl?
        Yes, it was so much fun you all came to play with me… I’d want you to stay with me.
        What do you say? asked Claude They ain’t coming?
        This reality had a special design which allowed us to project very easily here said Yurmaela very softly in that reality of you, and Anita and Akita; as for now, the barrier in that reality is thicker than it is here.
        But we are always present around Anu, you know that said Akayli kneeling down to wrap his spotted furry arms around the little girl
        Yes I know she was smiling And I miss my parents too
        So let’s go, the wortex will close any moment now

        #919

        It only took a few seconds for Armelle to deflate though she donned off with a hint of reluctance the delightfully filling feeling of power she had acquired notwithstanding the slight overweight (a few grams at best, given her immaterial nature of pristine white hallowy owly essence, but you could not reasonably expect to be really ascended with even no more than a few grams of physicality left, could you?)…

        So, it only took a few seconds, which in essence’s inner time was tantamount to a mere eon (a merry myriad of seconds).

        But then, all was so clear.
        She was seeing the trail that was left unwatched by the spiders, and that her friends would take to the wort-hole.

        Claude, my dear, would you be so kind as to oblige me for a few minutes? she regally asked her host of the branches, taking great care not to be too self-conscious, which would irremediably make her roll her eyes and lose all composure.
        Well… err… I s’pose yes…
        Indeed. Then, take good care of the wort-hole, and wait for us to come back, and then lead us back to the place from whence you came.
        Wouldn’t do that, if I were you… It’s full of magpies there…
        Oh bugger now. Armelle sighed so profusely that it made the hair raise on Claude’s head. The Snoot told me the way would be clear, so… have a little faith in me she said in a cocker’s voice.

        And there, in a majestic elan, she went back to the spot where her friends were now gently getting together.

        :fleuron:

        When she arrived, Akayli the were-lynx had just been deposing his precious package of the two silk-wrapped parents at the feet of little Anita. The first minutes of doubt passed, her hesitant face started to show a smile, knowing that her parents would be fine.

        Yuki was for himself all very impressed by the transformergence of his friends, and was finding that a very good idea to get more focused.
        However, he could hear the yet unvoiced protests of Armelle at his yet unphrased suggestion of a mergence
        Now way I get my white feathers mixed in that bloody smelly goat’s fur!
        And of course, he could hear too the yet unvoiced slew of outraged protests
        Smelly goat? Who you bloddy call a smelly goat, you persnickity saucer-eyed shuttlecock?

        Yet… Yuki, gazing for a few seconds of essence in the stream of possibilities, weighted again the enticing result that a mergence of the three of them would produce…
        Which would be… a… grabbiffon.
        A magnificent winged horned cotton-tailed… sort of… gryffun… or grumpfoon.
        Well… perhaps Armelle was right in the not-yet-voiced first place.

        That would just be plain ridiculous.

        So… what are we waiting for?! Let’s do it now!! all three of them laughed in unison :D =)) :creating_magic: :buffoon:

        #898

        She was feeling blank. It was as if she had no memories of what had happened before. At least she had still the notion that she was a she… wasn’t she? It wasn’t really clear, as she had mixed up feelings. There weren’t any physical sensation in the place she was. Indeed, she was having difficulties finding herself. She began to wonder what was this feeling of her she was aware of. To what was it connected? And thus, she realized she was too focused on the question itself to get any answer.
        The letting go released a dam of sensations and informations. She was overwhelmed by all that she was and all that seemed to be thrust upon her senses. But the resistance was what could create pain, she knew that from another time where she was living the same thing. Resisting the communication was like wanting to resist a herd of fleeing raghlors.
        She was feeling a presence in all this mess, something familiar :-?
        Was that herself looking at herself looking at herself looking at herself looking…
        Her memory of what she was trying to do came as lightning. The sudden realization of her numerous tentatives at this exercise made her cry… would she fail again?
        She had to find these other aspects of her, put them into a common direction… but there were so many of hers! which ones should she call to follow her? Which ones would follow her, if any? She felt sudden despair coming from everywhen. Despairs that she was aware did not belong to her, but they were powerful, almost annihilating her will. Images of massacres of people she knew, of people that her other selves knew, massacre that she had perpetrated herself or that she was perpetrating… any sensation of time could fit.

        :yahoo_at_wits_end: :yahoo_doh: :yahoo_crying: :yahoo_cow: :yahoo_whew: :yahoo_skull:

        Despair was imprisoning her and she knew she already had failed because of that. It was shadowing her motivation, giving her that hollow sense of herself, shielding her from…

        :creating_magic:

        Asiir, is that you? The energy was familiar and the name was a translation in her mind. It was an anchor point in all these mess of hers.
        Asiir, help me!

        The feeling was faint, so far away. But as she was focusing more on it, she noticed her different selves were intrigued and gathering around it. And there they were together. A feeling of ecstasy filled her up… and out of her body herself was huge. The presence was gaining in intensity and it was as if it was her who was allowing Asiir’s energy to be expressed toward herself.

        HAHAHAHAHA a thunderous laugh.
        Startled for a moment she almost lost contact with Asiir. But their bond was stronger this time. She was filled with joy and self-assurance.

        At last, you are beginning to understand, Lola. We can go on and take the next step now.

        She was truly riding her dragon, :face-grin: , it was wondrous.

        Well, technically you are lying on the floor of the marshes of doooom, but…

        All of a sudden, everything was gone, she was back to her body, Asiir looking at her and nudging her left arm with her snout.
        WOW, what a crippled body! How many times did she tried? Would he kill her with that, bloody bastard… a feeling of anger was infuriating her, and filling her body up, heating it up. How could he possibly be so inhuman?

        May I recall you I’m a dead guy? and furthermore, my focus wasn’t human… I just appear human to your eyes because you want me to appear like that. You have no representation of how my species could look like, but I may show you…
        … soon.

        #890

        The Council room was silent but the energy was tense and electric.
        Nareena and Noraam were reading an energy ball from their peers on the Murtuane’s Kandulim shore. There had been an uprising of the Zentauras concerning exactions committed by what could be called a rebel faction of the Guardians. They had no name to call them, and they were invisible to their search, through their inner vision or other devices.
        The Gates were concerned by this behavior amongst their kin, especially since they would soon face a difficult choice in their evolution and society. Keliom had warned them since the beginning many years ago when it was just speculations, when they were needing a source of power so intense that it was against their knowledge to even believe in it.
        But the source had been found. It was through an unexpected mean. And now…

        This is unacceptable from our kind Noraam. The Council should decide something to get rid of these culprits.

        You know that it is against our customs. And especially, Sinadron and Keliom wouldn’t allow it and you know their influence over the others.

        I also sense that you are not comfortable with the idea either…

        Nareena sighed with resignation.

        I wonder how far would they have to go before we decide to do something. It is something to disregard the other races, but it is another to tease them and attack them. It is not even a matter of really wanting to hurt them, I feel a deliberate desire to make them angry against us, and I wonder who among us would want that.

        Noraam looked at her, intrigued. He saw the face of a man, a vautruche on his left shoulder. The only one of them who would want a vautruche as a pet. These animals were so unpredictable that one could think they were a vicious species, but they were expressing qualities such as determination and swiftness that were also somewhat desirable, and he could understand that. They were really fascinating with their moving colors. Depending on their mood, their skin was quickly changing, pulsing, irradiating, glazing, hypnotic, or just dark and unnoticeable.

        Do you really mean what I briefly saw, Nareena?

        She blushed before his twinge. I don’t trust him, and he makes me feel very uncomfortable. She wouldn’t admit to him that she was sensing some sexual attraction from him, and to him, but she couldn’t accept it as his energy was mostly repulsing and the thirst of power she could glimpse in his eyes was simply frightening.

        No, I don’t like Sinadron .

        #862

        “Actually, that’s it! Quintin had feared the implications, as lots of people did.
        It would mean everything would be allowed. Everything would be true, even the most blatant contradictions would be harmoniously living side by side.”

        Becky smiled at the marvelously appropriate Reality Play entry that she’d found whilst randomly reading back through their script notes.

        She’d had a hard time explaining to Sean about the probability glitch in which the note had appeared in the ‘wrong’ reality. He understood the concept of probable realities eventually, but he was hurt and confused as to why Becky had even thought to make up that probability in the first place. Becky hadn’t told him the full story about the dream, feeling that it may in some way be a self fulfilling prophecy if Sean knew that (in one probability, at any rate) he ended up an alcoholic, not to mention all those children! The very thought of all those children was enough to make Becky break out in a sweat, and she wasn’t inclined to add energy to that probable future.

        Becky explained that she had written the note to Sean (in the Reality Play) to tell him she was leaving him merely as a method of introducing some new characters, but Sean was deeply wounded.

        She did her best to placate her new husband and take his mind off it, even going so far as to don the shrunken tarty nun outfit. But after the romantic interlude, when Becky had fallen asleep, Sean was unable to stop thinking about it, and he wandered dejectedly into the kitchen, and poured himself a large whiskey.

        In an ironic twist of fate, a glimpse into a probable future had affected the present, and Sean’s descent into confused drunkenness began in earnest.

        #825

        When he first witnessed how the traveling portals worked, Badul had been greatly impressed. No such magic existed on Asgurdy, and even though is was supposed to be a small portal, it was greater magic than anything his imagination could have devised.
        He and his crew were so much impressed that Badul had required his small crew to settle down so that they can study further the thing. Tomkin had frowned a bit, as he was eager to continue and above all to leave this uncharted district ruled by a fierce warlord (or “governor”, as it was required to address him) in a moistly forest miles away from any living creature, but then again, Badul’s orders were not to be discussed.

        The portal was constituted of a wide circle of heavy limestones, with two crossing arched vaults made of limestones too, with smaller blue stones incrustations of various shapes tucked into round holes regularly scattered along the vaults. These smaller stones could apparently be rearranged, and Tomkin and Badul quickly figured out they were used to determine the coordinates of the various places they would be traveling to. This portal, they’ve been explained had a set of other stones, ocher and dark red ones which were not part of the traditional set of the main network on the continent. Their design was not overly displayed as the others which were left on the portal at all times. They were carried on the spot by one of the generals of the local governor, and used under strict guidelines, for fear that the parallel network would be uncovered.

        It took Badul a dozen of hexades to relinquish his fear of the unknown magic that made people disappear and reappear in thin air. He was a brave man, and that which he could see with his own eyes was no longer deemed irrational. It was very real, and he could use it. And there was no point in delaying the experience of it, as it was the only way for him to conquer his turmoil.

        So, on that fine morning of the falling season, he decided to move. Genflik Thran, the local governor, had come to appreciate the help Badul and his men had provided him in loading and unloading the cargoes of goods which were banned on various parts of the Warring Kingdoms nonetheless traded on the black market with great benefits, and occasionally escorting them to some of the nearest villages. But the deal had been made clear from the start: he would allow Badul and his men to use the network in exchange of two hexades of service. In fact, they had repaid the debt largely already.
        So he agreed to let them go on their journey and provided him and and his crew enough supply to continue their trip for quite some days. And as a token of appreciation, he allowed Badul to choose his destination, a privilege that was rarely granted, as usually people where glad to take whatever ship was about to depart.

        Badul turned to Tomkin, wondering where they could go next.
        “There are a few villages I heard of” Tomkin said after having pondered, “in the valleys down Mount Elok’ram. I heard this place is the tallest of the World, and is full of ancient powerful magic. Perhaps we can go to one of these villages, as I don’t think there is any portal on the top of the mountains.”
        “Ahaha, yes, you’re right” had smiled Genflik Thran “I’ve been heard there is a monastery on top of this mountain, but no portal unless you go in the valleys. Not that they couldn’t have built one, but they thought it would soon become too crowded and… how did they said? Yeah, unholy… with the ease of a portal access. Now, perhaps that with the new Abbott, it will change… who knows. We already have approached him, and he seems a man with a nice sense of compromise, for the good of all, ahahaha!”
        “What’s this village called?”, asked Badul
        Chard Dut Jep “ answered Genflik Thran “I have a local contact there, a witchy woman, with some sense for business too, when you’re there, ask for her, people call her Madame Chesterhope. Just don’t forget to mention you are coming on my advise, or else the bitch might reserve you a trick or two of her own, ahahaha!”.
        To Chard Dut Jep then!” cheered Badul, and his crew echoed with him.

        #1746

        In reply to: Synchronicity

        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          yes, lots of triple numbers. I thought of you before Tracy, a bit later I checked the time on my phone, it was 5:55pm

          picked up my book to read just now, first line was:

          Terry closed his eyes and smiled serenely. “Do you know what he charges for one dose? Three hundred and thirty three dollars. He says it is his magic number”

          (they are talking about a dose of a new drug which allows people to have the experience of travelling to different realms)

          F:heart: (do you like my new signature ? I thought I could sign all my comments like this, Tracy came online just as I wrote that ahahahaha I bet she thinks it is :yahoo_sick: )

          #774
          Jib
          Participant

            The red dung beetles were little by little slowing their pace and their form wasn’t so absolute now. Some were becoming butterflies and as they began to take off graciously, Sam was feeling the release of a long hold burden. Some others were settling down into the form of mushrooms of different colors. He could feel their different qualities and their specific roles in his previous experimentation. As beetles they all looked the same, but as he was allowing the reconfiguration of the energy they were expressing very different qualities and meanings.

            He heard a joyous whistle and he suddenly remembered the Nanaconda.

            You followed me all this way?

            YesSss

            You seem different to me now, as if you were the snake in the Little Prince’s story. Though you are not the same either.

            Your perssSseption isSss quite accurate, I musSst sSssay.

            Are you here to help me go back home?

            #773

            On his way to work, Yann was singing. These last few days had been harsh to his self appreciation process, he had lots of judgments against everything he was doing. He had found it quite exhausting and quite detrimental to his relationships with his friends.

            Well, despite the fact that Archibald puppet had told him about his bucket… or his garbage he couldn’t remember, and not to forget to empty it regularly, he had been submerged with stimuli from everywhere and from everybody, to the point that he wouldn’t allow a single smile inside himself.

            Yesterday, they had received their furniture with Yurick, and in the process of assembling them and putting them into place, rearranging the configuration of the apartment, he found himself appreciating of his new home.
            When he woke up that night, it was 5:12am. He couldn’t sleep, and he wouldn’t wake Yurick up. He had noticed several times that he had many associations with this hour of the day… like a burden, a new day of work soon approaching all that crap again and so on…

            All he had to do was just… yes like that, he was appreciating his own being. Himself lying in the bed, the breathing movement of his friend beside him, still and relaxed.

            When the alarm clock was about to ring himself out of the bed, he was already awoken and he cut it off before it could awake his beloved. It was 7:57am.
            On his way to the bathroom, Arona the cat was quite demanding of caresses… he took some time and appreciated deeply the contact of her soft fur, long and warm silky hairs.

            Thus, Yann was singing, and when he arrived at the crossroad just before his workplace, there was that man… and their gaze met surreptitiously. And the man started singing. Yann smiled.

            #767
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              State of Marshall VS Vinya Grey
              extracts of procedure 5057TP on case of unsolved time-blink that may have interfered with the timeline – Aug. 5th, 2237

              — As you are certainly most aware, Ms Grey, local authorities of the T FGF P (Timespace and Further Geodimensional Flux Police) has recently uncovered a case of unexplainable appearance of a new species within the past.
              The genetic makeup of this species bears some rather crude indication of human interference, though no official authorization has been recorded on its behalf. Our investigations have led us to believe you may have more than a little to do with this incident, which is, as you are once again quite aware, within the boundaries of decree 5533 on allowed and banned interferences and seeding into the timeline.

              — Objection, Judge! Prosecutor Arkandiusz is trying to intimidate my client. No proof has been yet produced that may confirm or infirm these allegations.

              — Mmmm… Objection rejected. Please continue Mr. Arkandiusz.

              — Shall I remind Ms Grey that the voluntary or involuntary seeding of new species within other areas has most of the time been disastrous, which is the reason of the decree aforementioned. Precedents were numerous even when our ancestors were not even aware of the possibility of time interference. Rabbits in Australia, does it ring any bell?

              — Objection, Judge! We are not talking about deadly pests here, we are talking about severely handicapped goats! Jeeze, come on…

              — … Do you mean, the Fainting Goats of our annual Fair, Mr Frey?

              — Yes, Judge Cornwick.

              — Oh, that is most interesting… Well, perhaps after this long introduction you may want to introduce your first witness Mr Arkandiusz, Ms… Beryl is that?

              #1722

              In reply to: Synchronicity

              TracyTracy
              Participant

                I googled Circle of Eights

                ***

                Give pairs seven post-its and ask the children to write down the main scenes. Take feedback and allow children to adjust/add to their post-its. Pairs then work on listing the scenes and sticking them in order. They should disregard any scenes that are not crucial, and just keep the key events.

                Agree with the class the basic key scenes. Demonstrate how to make a few notes about each scene to help with a retelling.

                In pairs, children make notes about each scene to help with retelling the tale. These should be kept to the barebones. In pairs, practice retelling the story, taking it in turns. Then put pairs together to retell their versions to another pair.

                ***

                If time allows, build this up to circles of eight.

                ***

                End the session by hearing several retellings. Encourage the children to evaluate between tellings, refining and improving their version.

                Explore ways of altering the retellings. Children decide to alter one aspect. They then retell the tale, with the alteration. Pairs should then move into fours
                and retell their new versions.

                ***
                Build up to circles of eight if time allows.

                ***
                The children recommend a version they have heard that is really effective. Listen to these, and as a class evaluate what makes an effective retelling. This enables more in-depth evaluation, especially by the storytellers themselves.

                #761

                So then, said Franiel sitting down beside a small mound of earth, what now?

                The top of the mound of earth was smoothed flat, and with a twig Franiel began to form small spiral patterns abstractedly in the earth. He felt no desire to go back to the monastery and face Aum Geog with the news of the loss.

                He held the twig high, and then released it to fall to the ground. It fell without sound, landed unharmed on the mound of earth. He closed his eyes and in the dark at the back of his mind, he heard the voice of his grandmother whisper; Spirals make more sense than crosses Franiel my boy, joys more than sorrows.

                Spirals make more sense than crosses….

                None of it made much sense to Franiel. The feeling of freedom he felt momentarily slipped away. He was left looking at the space where it had been, feeling empty. The task given him by Aum Geog had given him a feeling of purpose, for a short time had allowed him to forget how lost he felt. Yet now the task had been taken from him, and he was in no hurry to retrieve it, he saw it for the illusion it had been.

                What would it feel like to want to go somewhere? Or to want to be something, to want to be a monk, to want to be a teacher, to want to be the father of a family? To be able to arrange oneself neatly in a box and say I belong here?

                Spirals make more sense than crosses …. day becomes night becomes day, lives come into being, and go out of being … there is always new life coming into being …… around and around

                He began to walk along the path, away from where he had already been …. towards something new? He caught sight of a dead blackbird lying in the long grass to the side of the track and knelt down to look at it.

                It is quiet and still.

                He dug a hole, scraping in the dirt with his fingers and then using a stone to lever the lifeless body into the hole. The bird’s brown eyes are still open. Franiel covered it with dirt, looking deep into it’s eyes, until there is no sign of it, just a mound of earth.

                He traced a spiral in the dirt.

                Joys more than sorrows…

                He sat back on his heels, and keeping his mind empty, he sang to the dead bird.

                #750
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  I take it from that you don’t know where the wedding dress is currently. Well if you do come across it would you mind letting Felicity know. said Tina haughtily, switching the phone off abruptly.

                  Al’s words running through her head she started walking quickly nowhere in particular.

                  Tina, what’s the point of these experiments we have been doing with Becky and Sam if you are going to keep relying on the phone all the time? And why are you trying to sort out the dress for Felicity, it isn’t your problem.

                  It wasn’t the so much the words which had stung, after all he was right, it was the annoyance she thought she had heard in his voice.

                  She felt him making contact, quickly blocked, feeling too hurt to be open.

                  She knew he was tired, god knows he had put so much into the wedding preparations, as he did with all his projects. He was fast building a reputation for his ground breaking experiments with body processes. Tina loved Al whatever he looked like, which was just as well really considering some of the rather bizarre effects he managed to produce.

                  Becky had been a bit irritated with her as well, Tina you are so last decade, nay century even! she would say, rolling her large eyes dramatically. Becky too was racing confidently and exuberantly ahead. Her intriguing contributions to the reality play never failed to amaze Tina. Her own contributions felt stolid, words trapped in a big gluggy ball of last century energy, she had to work hard to extricate each one.

                  It was nearly dark, raining harder now, wind-driven rain. Tina liked it, the rain complemented her mood and disguised the self-pitying tears streaming down her face. There were very few people in the street. Just the long line of shop windows, glass faces warmly lit, overhangs offering some shelter from the rain, though it wasn’t shelter Tina was looking for.

                  Her long hair whipped around her face, wet blue satin clung to her slim frame.

                  Sam had taken off unexpectedly and suddenly to Australia. He had been gone only a few days and she missed him. Dear Sam, his wicked and irrepressible sense of humour could make her laugh even in the blackest of moods. He too was playing with new potentials, forging new and exciting paths.

                  The others are probably all communicating with their advanced telepathic skills right now, laughing at dumb old last century Tina, she thought morosely. In fact even last century I would have been so last century, judging by my spectacular lack of success at anything I have undertaken recently. A vision of her recent humiliation in the ballet dancing class sprang to mind. She winced and quickly blocked the distressing image of the dance teacher drawing her aside after class and gently suggesting she might try the Ancient Kuzhebar Motional Practices beginner’s class, to get some basic rhythm, before attempting the ballet. ….

                  An elderly woman who had disembarked at the nearby gondola stop splashed by her, and, illuminated momentarily by the street lamp, Tina felt a flash of recognition. The woman turned suddenly towards her, smiled, gesticulated with her free hand, the other was clutching a large bag, towards some distant bushes. She mouthed some words at Tina, but these were lost in the wind. Tina waved and managed a reciprocal smile.

                  She noticed a Positivity Robot parked in front of Samantha Lingerie, and found herself drawn towards it, 3D images of models wearing the latest in underwear fashions rotated in the shop’s window, their faces beaming irritatingly at her. These Positivity Robots had been all the rage in the early 2020’s, you did not see as many of them now. On impulse she stood in front of the robot, touched the screen, allowing it to read her energy. “negative 21” its glass face discreetly informed her. The words “I AM PERFECT flashed up on the screen as a suggested thought pattern to implement. Tina grimaced. I wonder how low I can make this damn thing go. The idea made her giggle and to her alarm shot the meter up to a positive 12. Bugger, a bad start!

                  What am I going to do with myself, Mr PR, if you are so positively smart?

                  I AM PERFECT…. I AM PERFECT …. I AM PERFECT ….

                  perfectly grumpy, perfectly insecure, perfectly last decade, perfectly soaked to the skin, Tina watched as the meter climbed all the way up to 55.

                  She glanced at the shop window, just as a smiling model wearing a minuscule open net dress and nun’s habit rotated by. She felt an inexplicable burst of amusement as the meter climbed to 57.

                  #2126

                  In reply to: Snooteries

                  The SnootThe Snoot
                  Participant

                    The Snoot is glad to allow your understanding of the situation that is not so easy to understand given the different probabilities involved in this sin aqua nun…
                    Thou shouldst open thy heart to the red juice of the red fruit of the redimensionality of the skull.
                    The nuns are not a particularly dangerous kind of people in that they are just red and fining their own understanding of the process of the energy of their snoot.
                    Each being has a snoot in it.
                    Sand Snow also is snootified in being here for saww slang.

                    Thou shouldst also watch the magpies as they are from the same tribe, though they act together.

                    The Cutie Snootie extends to thy all its snootpreciation in the form of a Gibbon.

                    Gibbon_.jpg

                    #733
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      When Becky realized what she was wearing, she wished the ground would open up and swallow her. She rummaged in her bag for her phone, and called Al. She would hide behind a bush until he arrived, bringing some clothes with him, she thought.

                      The number you have reached is not connected at this time, the automated voice on the other end told her.
                      RATS! His phone was switched off.

                      Becky tried Tina’s number. Her phone was disconnected too.

                      Becky tried Sean’s number. Thank Flink for that! At least it was ringing.

                      No answer. It rang and rang, but nobody answered.

                      Bloody hell! Sam’s in Australia, he can’t help, what am I going to DO? she wailed.

                      #715

                      Several days later, when the wedding celebrations had finished, nobody could remember anything about it, other than the jokes and poems. In true Russian custom, there had been ample alcohol…well, more than ample, there had been several hospital admissions from alcohol poisoning, drunken brawls and accidents.

                      Becky swallowed another aspirin, recalling one of the jokes that Sam had told.

                      As a Lord Wrick was driving down the freeway, his cell phone rang.

                      Sam continued: Answering, he heard the mummy’s voice urgently warning him, “Wrick, I just heard on the news that there’s a car going the wrong way on the M4. Please be careful!”

                      “It’s not just one car,” said Wrick, “It’s hundreds of them!”

                      Sheesh, sighed Becky.

                      As she poured herself another mug of coffee, a limerick popped into to her head.

                      There was an Old Crone with a beard,
                      Who said, ‘It is just as I feared!
                      Two Owls and a Lynx,
                      And a Rabbit in Pink,
                      Have all built their nests in my beard!’

                      Who had told that one, was it Sean? Becky smiled wanly as another one popped into her head.

                      There was an Old Abbot whose habits,
                      Induced him to feed upon rabbits;
                      When he’d eaten eighteen,
                      He turned perfectly green,
                      Upon which he relinquished those habits.

                      The toast popped up, and as Becky buttered it she remembered a joke of Al’s.

                      Most dentists chairs go up and down, don’t they? Al asked the wedding guests.
                      The one I was in went back and forwards.
                      I thought, “This is unusual.”
                      The dentist said to me, “Al, get out of the filing cabinet.”

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