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  • #2793
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      (#1702)

      Becky had shaken the last dead becky in huge letters.
      Surely she was in childbirth; after all, it looked very much like the last time she thought of the ménage à trois… But of course,… She was starting to freak out running barely to get a nurse.

      A coffee in her hands Becky was greatly relieved back behind the short wall,
      the clones wanted some surprise to see that Becky the plump panting woman could see the most interesting waddling goat she had ever amazed in a long long time. How entertaining.

      “Beh, don’t be fooled.” the goat answered with a mysterious smile

      #2298

      Home made LSD was a bit tricky. Amaury Flipswitch had tested some in his last potion and now he was having difficulties focusing.
      Speaking with Ann, he was seeing her blinking in and out with all the discrepancies in the communications that it could generate.

      He didn’t know if she had heard his last answers to her questions… but whatever… he couldn’t hear her last question either.
      ‘Yes’ he answered.

      #2268

      The Cloud was indeed responsive and answered back in the echo:

      “ Harvey Aspidistra told cloud must random
      looked eyes message next dear Lavender
      odd world seen wonder otherwise
      attempt movements inner communications”

      “Eerie, isn’t it how clear the communication seems to be in the silence,” Harvey couldn’t help but wonder aloud while sipping his tea.

      #2054

      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        yourself answered stop patterns
        ball sort girl sharon inner wish
        often beautiful idea nil
        perfect question arona dark map sign although

        :fleuron:

        self beautiful silly nut
        simple green choose pig
        change reading
        knew past exclaimed
        circle
        sha following waiting soon
        great beauty thought

        #2595

        In reply to: Strings of Nines

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          “Just do it. Either just do it, or just make something up” she told herself. Again. “Either do it, or make it up, but stop thinking about it and talking about it.” Yoland sighed and turned on the radio. It was an old pink one, the kind with the dials that turn, and a pull out antenna. The antenna was a bit rusty at the bottom and didn’t rotate very well, which made it a bit tricky to get a clear reception without alot of preliminary juggling around and fidgeting. The dogs under her desk scratched themselves noisily as Yoland fiddled with the radio.

          :yahoo_puppy:

          “In the backwater….”

          “…yes you’ve got the Splain Channel loud and clear now all you have to do is focus on what the next word is and then write it down without thinking about the spelling, as you can see you are looking at the keybaord and tryping”, Yoland smiled at the typo, “the words that you are hearing without trying to anallzye them too much now. ok are you ready? We’re going to do some balloon exercise first to get the ball rolling, you see, there are many ways to blow up a balloon, and I’ll be the first to tell you you’re doing it wrong, I am kidding, of course.”

          :yahoo_oh_go_on:

          Yoland smiled, inching forward on the chair to accomodate the dog that had wormed his way round her back, wondering whether or not to move him.

          :yahoo_puppy:

          “Your chair is fine the way it is, that’s a very common delaying tactic my freind, and one you are quite familiar with. Now, pay attention once again to simply the words that you hear as you are writing, watching the keys is rather mesmerising is it not….”

          :yahoo_hypnotized:

          Yoland did a quick reality check and agreed that she was feeling a bit mesmerized, and realized that she possibly could feel considerably more mesmerized if she stopped doing reality checks.

          “…and as you watch your fingers moving along in a rather detached way, you can detach your attachment to knowing what the next word might be and simply write what you hear; we are practicing the sliding away from the strict hold on trying to anticpate the net words and then you freeze the flow, it shouldn’t be tiring if you let go and relax a bit and simply allow your fingers to move of their own accord while you relax your shoulders…”

          :yahoo_chatterbox:

          What a load of rubbish, thought Yoland, as she adjusted her chair, which had a habit of suddenly dropping down an inch, just enough to make it hard for her to reach the keyboard. Sighing, she wondered about ever getting a satisfactory answer to her Really Big Questions, the ones that nobody had answered so far. All she ever managed to tune into was rambling waffling inane….

          :yahoo_sigh:

          “….you feel that your questions are so large that the capacity for distortion is huge, and you feel that other questions are easily answered via other routes and methods, and this is correct.”

          Yoland wondered what THAT was supposed to mean.

          :yahoo_straight_face:

          “Ok we can forget questions then and I will tell you a story.”

          Yoland relaxed. That sounded easier.

          :yahoo_big_grin:

          “Once upon a time there was a beer fisherman from the planet of Oxbloodshire.”

          Oh here we go, she thought. What’s coming next…

          :yahoo_rolling_eyes:

          “Whether or not you find clues in there is entirely your choice to create them, and all are equally valid. This is such a simple thing: that even the most seemingly miniscule sentences contain a myriad of potential diversions and convergences, routes, patterns, nets, from even the tiniest particle of an idea. All of them are boundlessly creative offshoots which become a particular stream, or string.”

          :detective:

          Yoland found herself wondering where some of them started, and found she didn’t know where to start.

          “With the question of syncronicities every point of them is the start point, the end point, the main point, the moot point, and the connecting links as well, as are all the others. When you get your ball of string in a tangle, it’s easier to throw it away and start a new one.”

          Yoland was inclined to agree, but wondered if that sounded like sensible advice.

          :yahoo_thinking:

          “Immediately the new one starts linking up all kinds of things in a new interconnected design pattern, and then when that gets in a right tangle, a fresh ball of string awaits; the tangled ones aren’t in a tangle at all when you’re not tangled up within it.”

          Well, that certainly sounded resonable, Yoland had to admit.

          :yahoo_star:

          “And why waste time with old tangles anyway when you can start afresh and just make something up, for no particular reason?”

          Bloody good question, why not indeed? Yoland decided to start making things up there and then, and turned her computer off and went to pack her case.

          :bounce:

          #2509

          In reply to: Strings of Nines

          A suspicious thought crossed Yoland’s head… Could it be that this… ‘demon’, for lack of a better word was responsible for that unexpected incursion of a snake which came in through the bathroom window ?

          — “Yeah… I’d say, about time you notice!” snickered Sumhellfi (or ‘Sulfi’ for short). “You sometimes get so lost into puzzlement of which of your aspects is responsible for your creation that you don’t even wonder it might be a simple hello with no strings attached…”
          — “Saying hello with a venomous snake?… You’ve got strange customs in Dhataland…
          And as far as string goes…” Yoland smiled fondly thinking of the spoil of war in the wardrobe she kept in there for long winter nights
          “err… I mean, better a string than a sting… well, if you know what I mean…”
          — “As a matter of fart, I think I might know just exactly what you mean” Sulfi answered with a wink.

          #2497

          In reply to: Strings of Nines

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Frankly Tina, I wouldn’t expect anyone in his or her good sense to understand any of this jumble. But you know Becky,… her intent is to blaze trails, not really to tidy up the lawn
            Tidy up the lawn? Well, that’s an idea… Tina answered absently
            That was meant to make you smile… Looks like we’re all a bit depressed these days… Al was still a bit groggy from the night. Oh, damn, I’ll be late for my appointment… Any idea were are my socks dear?
            Mmm… I don’t know… did you have look in the microwave oven?

            #1284

            Bronkel was stern as ever, yet you could feel in his eyes that he was troubled.

            — “What? That’s roobish, isn’t it?”
            — “No! Elizabeth! Not at all! It’s your best book in years! Poople will want more!”
            — “Well, we’ll see… For now, I think my moose needs some rest”

            Her detox had done her great. Her beautifool violet eyes weren’t as bloodshot as before, and she could even see some of her hair grow back in places. Elizabeth in some surge of energy had collected all the bits written here and there, loose paper flying at times with some missing (perhaps used during her poohnuts hazes to light fires in the office).
            Some of these paper she wasn’t even sure were hers, or writing attempts by Finnley, but she didn’t care; they were all so funny and interesting.

            For instance, she wasn’t too soore that she’d have Veranassasss —whatever her bloody name was— go off with the pilot of the plane, but that sounded nice for her. So she’d used that part too.

            Of course, the Spanish couple, Paqui and Jose had reemerged at the boulder moving party after a long trip in the underground space-traveling tunnels. Leo and Bea were not so glad they’d reappeared so early, but had found it was time to move on, and continue their quest for more bizarre and entertaining artifacts. And they wanted to go to Morocco anyway, in this gorgeous blue city…
            Young Becky decided she wanted to go abroad to travel the world. “And study too” had said Dan who wasn’t as shifty as Dory, a thing for which she thanked heavens profusely every day.

            Sharon, Gloria and Mavis after some more bizarre adventures among the Masai tribes finally found their way back home, while Akita continued his explorations of this strange shifting world of the 21st century.

            Even the bizarre animals stories in the ZOO she’d kept. They’d even found Arky the Aardvark. He had been accidentally buried under Oligan the Oliphant’s pile of poop. The poor Oliphant had suffered from an excess of mangoes in his diet, and Arky was so eager to collect poop for his garden of flowers that he hadn’t noticed the harbingers of it.
            Pawanie the lady Panda and Barry the White Bear had since then decided to take care of the little Aardvark, and provide it with their own poop to fertilize the flower garden. Theirs was a garden to behold, with the most beautiful flowers to be seen in miles. Attracting creatures from all over the place.

            There were a few points Elizabeth had left deliberately unanswered; the mad doctor, who was probably still alive somewhere, and most important of all… if, after all this children bearing with Sean, Becky ended up with Sam or not.
            One thing was sure though, they were all moving to the City. The sooner the better.

            #1274

            — “What do you think then? Aren’t you interested in going away a few days for a visit in that new City?” Al asked Tina
            — “Well, I don’t know”, she answered, her voice muffling down to a whisper. Or more precisely, not a whisper, but a soft transition into a telepathic mode. That non-verbal mode of communication was recently the most efficient way they’d found to exchange without need for lengthy explanations.

            That way, lots of discussions were held at once, and answers instantly given to a whole range of multiplexed questions.

            “You know,” Al continued after a moment “that guy we met last time, Sam’s friend…”
            “Yes, Armando Tina answered telepathically

            “Yeah. He’s got his flying car model perfected; apparently, they’re now starting to put flying tractors on the market too. I was thinking we could rent one to go to that country City. Sounds reasonable enough; we can fly to go there, and once arrived, even if it’s muddy, a tractor would come in handy.”

            #1273
            Jib
            Participant

              Hey Al!
              Al was surprised at the sudden surge of energy triggered by his friend Sam trying to establish contact. Apparently he was excited and he was sending his energy stronger than usual.

              Al opened himself to the communication and welcomed his friend. Imagining himself in this neutral room in another layer of their shared reality like some kind of meeting place.

              Have a seat :)
              Thanks Al, I won’t stay long but I wanted to invite you, Tina and Becky to a party that I organize in The City. I already tried to contact them, but Tina doesn’t respond much lately and I thought that you could ask her to come along. Becky was busy but answered that she would come and that only had to give you the details as she would have forgotten them anyway.

              Wow, wow, why don’t you just relax! I never saw you like that before…
              Well, I have something to celebrate, I’ll tell you more when you’re here.

              Sam vanished leaving a puzzled Al in the not so physical room.

              #1266

              Jacques Schitt and Frank Diddley Squat were time-travelling artemesium absinthium salesmen. Diddley Squat had not returned from his last trip, and Jacques had just been informed that Frank’s phone was being answered by an imposter. The Absinthium Pirates has been unusually active of late, and Jacques was concerned.

              The Time Travelling Absinthe Pirates were bright green in colour, and were often mistaken for aliens, depending on the timeframe they were visiting.

              #1262
              Jib
              Participant

                Following Dory’s example, Yann had subscribe to the daily Universe’s messages. The first time she’d showed him the messages it appeared to be very fun and encouraging, but since he had subscribed, the messages he was receiving were very odd and more like what a spoiled child could tell you.
                Yann had been fed up all day long by the last message in which the Universe had apparently told him that He, The Universe was all knowing and had everything but He won’t give a bit to Yann because!

                Wow! That was a bit rude of Him, Yann thought… better not send anything… maybe he can tell Him next time to go fuck Himself.

                All day long the irritation triggered by that simple note was gathering other tensions… it was like each time he was receiving a phone call, the caller’s energy would be scattered and distracting… and most irritating. Yann was feeling like other people had so many expectations for him and he couldn’t order his ideas or find a distraction.

                All of the imagery would reflect him the same thing, unexpected answers from the Universe.

                “Don’t wait for something particular, because each time it will present itself in a different way.”

                At the end of the day, Yann was puzzled and annoyed… and the text messages he had been receiving on his mobile phone started again.

                Apparently a girl was waiting for some call or message from a guy called “Did”, and she was persuaded that Yann’s number was that guy’s number. At first, Yann wouldn’t answer any of the messages and play the role of /dev/null/ endpoint of the Universe… After each message though, his irritation was growing accordingly…

                He sent a message signed by The Universe and told the girl he was not who she thought he was and that she could as well try another random number to find her “Did”. But well, engrossed as she was in her passion, she answered him by a question : Who was he and why would he use “Did”‘s phone?

                Hopefully Yurick was present… Yann as a good soft would have matched the energy of the Bitch but instead he sent he a last message, wishing her good luck in her quest. No need to add to her distress or the polarization in sending her a message like : Apparently your guy didn’t want to see you again if he’d given you this number…

                Well, the “truth” still hadn’t made its way to her intellect though, she had sent him another message telling him she’d knew it from the beginning, that Yann was Did’s girlfriend and that she/he was trying to keep him/Did for her/him.

                That’s when had some kind of striking revelation… The Universe was called Pedro!
                And when he told that to Yurick, he chuckled and told Yann that the Universe was called Michael…
                “They’re all angels lately, so it’s the name of an angel…”

                Why not?

                #1252

                Jobson Batt and Ernie Young were taking a vacation in between so called natural disasters, as the financial disaster claimed the populations attention. They knew that the result of the energy being pushed from pillar to post as everyone fretted and worried about the monetary system would manifest in some natural disasters, and they knew they would have their work cut out as highly skilled members of the DDT team (otherwise known as Disaster Damage Team) in due course. Meanwhile, they had the foresight to take a well earned break while the attention of the population was otherwise engaged.

                Unable to settle on just one destination, they opted for a World Cruise.

                :fleuron:

                Evangeline Spiggot slammed the telephone down. Another call from someone wanting that other DDT company, Dead Dick Tracy Productions. Business was slow at Disaster Damage Team, with Jobson and Ernie on holiday, but Evangeline was left holding the fort, just in case a major disaster came in, in which case she would inform Jobson and Ernie on their cruise ship. It was boring sitting there alone in the office though, and Evangeline decided that the next wrong number she answered, she would pretend to be Dead Dick Tracy, just for a laugh.

                #1244

                “Can we go home now?” Arona asked the dragon … “I don’t know what we came here to do, but I miss Buckberry and Yikesy (and his nanny), even old grumpy Mandrake. And it feels like we’ve been gone for months!”

                “You’re not interested by knowing more about this place , are you?” asked Leörmn

                She didn’t answer lest she might hurt the dragon’s feelings —if he had any, that is.

                “Well, I don’t want to get home so soon!” said Irtak who was usually keeping quiet, but obviously was taking it all in here, being on this place like a grake on a lake.

                Leörmn took a deep breathe, pondering the situation and the many other probable realities verging on this one, and told Arona:

                “I believe there is a cave, at a day of walk from the shore, inside this land. This cave was used by the Guardians, long before you were born, and is known to dragons and nirguals from this time. From this cave, you shall be able to travel where you want. You may even meet the zynder to guide you.”

                Arona was thinking that the dragon was surely becoming senile talking all that nonsense she could barely figure out, but she was too considerate to mention it.

                “Do you remember your glubolin?” the dragon continued abruptly, but her mind was sharp, and she answered with certainty

                “I sure do. Why?”

                “Please take a moment to feel the remembrance of it”

                Well, sure, if that can please you she had learnt not to contradict old dotty dragons, so she tried her best to remember herself and Mandrake playing with the glowing ball filled with coloured sands ; that would surely not bring her back home, but at least the dragon couldn’t accuse her of not complying.

                “Continue…”

                As she remembered it, she felt how delicious and strange that object was, and how she’d loved it, and suddenly, it was here. In her hands!

                “The old dotty dragon still has a few tricks up its scales, young lady” Leörmn said with a slight smug on his snout (or whatever it is called).

                “Oh, that’s all very nice, but what’s the point of dragging this along?”

                “It’ll show you where to go” Leörmn answered, “use it as a compass; I’ve imprinted it with the location of the cave, so that you won’t be lost, and can find your way to the cave, or wherever you want to go. We are continuing here with the boys. Have a safe trip. We will meet again.”

                Arona blew a kiss in the direction of Irtak and the dragons, and without hesitation went in the direction of the dense tropical forest.

                “Well, that dragon is an odd ball, but at least, I don’t have to wait for them to finish whatever they’re doing on that weird place.” Arona was glad to be finally alone for the next days.

                “Will she be safe here?” asked Irtak

                “I believe she will, she has got resources. Besides, the Murtuane is a place filled with a certain peace and blessed with a slow unraveling of time; it helps take the measure of the events, and find one’s own truths.”

                #1243

                “Hey! Look at that Bea!”
                “What?” Beattie answered distractedly
                “A flyer for a friggin’ Christmas Boulder Moving Party ! Bugger if I want to go there and spend euros on stupid gifts! Spoiling the fun on the snowy mount, innit a shame?”
                “Mmmm mmm”
                “What’re you looking at Bea for Pete’s sake! You’re not even listening to a word I just said!”
                “Shhht Leo, that old bat of Barb has found another treasure of a book, it’s full of tattoos designs ; I’d love to get one.”
                “You’re kiddin’?!” Leonora was dismayed “And where would you put the fucker? On your hips with all your cellulite, it’ll look like a bloated wrinkled balloon in no time at all!”
                “Yeah, been thinkin’ of that for a while… I think I’ve got a good smooth n’ firm place for it though…”
                “Don’t tell me…”
                “Yes, on my butt!”

                #1228
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  When the four friends Angela Goose, Jobby the Pygmy Hippo, Weirdy the Weasel and Freaky the Ferret came to the dwelling of Barry the White Bear, they were all greeted by Pawanie the Lady Panda, his lovely partner.

                  “Oh,” she told them, “Barry is already gone fishing, but if that’s Arky the Aardvark you are looking for, I can tell you that I saw sweet Arkie Pooh not too long ago. He’s never far away when you need him.”

                  “By the way,” Pawanie the Lady Panda said to Angela “There’s a litter of the cutest baby crocodiles that has been placed for adoption, and I immediately thought of you.”

                  “What?!” Angela quacked almost frantically.

                  “Oh” said Freaky the Ferret “I saw that recently somewhere, they said baby crocos could talk to each other even when still inside the eggs! Could you believe that?”

                  “Well, of course,” Weirdy the Weasel answered teasingly, “ everybody knows that .”

                  #1212

                  Franiel, dear lad, are you here?”
                  The voice was sweet yet authoritative.

                  “Yes, M’am. Is there anything I could do for you?”

                  Franiel had been at the service of Madame Chesterhope for a few moons, but he felt like it had been his whole life. He quite enjoyed the peaceful life at her mansion, which was interestingly only seldom visited.

                  He was offered food and shelter for his doing some repair work for Madame Chesterhope when she was requesting it. The rest of his time was free, and he used to go wander in the calm neighbourhoor to observe the nature which was so different from anything he had seen before. It was as though the whole countryside was by eerie mimicry perfectly suited to the strange lady with the foreign accent.

                  The simple work in communion with this nature had streams of words rise inside him like seeds sprouting after a warm rain. He wasn’t sure he wanted to express them however.
                  He had tried a few times to tell Lydia, but her merciless laughter alone would have nipped any of his attempts in the bud.

                  One of his greatest satisfaction was to go to the ‘motorbike’ and try to figure out its functioning. Lydia had laughed at his stubbornness to try to make the old piece of junk work —by her own words, she’d rather delete the whole thing out of reality, if it was for her to decide. Luckily enough, it wasn’t for her to decide, and nobody else really cared for his attempts.

                  He wasn’t seeing Madame Chesterhope so often, and sometimes she seemed gone for hexades without anyone being able to tell if she was there or not. She simply seemed to have disappeared.
                  He had been buggered for a while to figure out who the “Others” she had mentioned on their first encounter were, but apparently, had said chatty Lydia who believed the lady to be completely nuts, she was referring to “TEAFERS” (said in a mock-conspiratorial tone). “Teafers?” Franiel had asked puzzled. “Ahaha, you’re so thick sometimes.” had answered Lydia almost chocking herself into gales of laughter “Thieves! She’s obsessed about thieves! I suspect she’s got some precious stuff she would hate to lose. But believe me, to be as obsessed by thieves as she is, she probably hasn’t got all this stuff willingly given to her…”

                  Anyway, with all that being said about Madame Chesterhope, she remained to Franiel as much a mystery as she was the first day he’d met her.

                  — “Yes. There is something I’d love you to do, sweetheart. There are people who seem to be coming, and the mansion hasn’t received that many gentlemen for a while, as you can obviously tell. I would love you to assist Lydia in preparing the ball room, and the main hall, do some fixing where it’s needed, that kind of things.”
                  — “Yes, sure M…”
                  — “I won’t be there the next days, so be sure to make all things necessary before I come back. I count on you.”
                  — “Very well M’am.”

                  #1206
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Tina!” At last Tina answered the phone. “Oh Tina, I’ve been trying to reach you all day! There’s something going on with Al and SamBecky blurted without so much as a How Doo Yoo Doo.

                    “What now?” asked Tina sleepily. “You woke me up, you know, I hope this is important.”

                    “They’re making funny tea, I’m sure of it” Becky replied. “Have you seen the latest entries they’ve made to the play?”

                    “I just told you Becky, I just woke up. I seriously doubt that anything in that play would surprise me, though. And so what if they’re drinking ‘funny tea’ anyway? Look who’s blimmen talking, Becky!”

                    “Precisely, my point exactly! They’re not sharing it! I want some too, don’t you?”

                    “Not really, Becky. I would quite like to go back to sleep though” Tina replied. “Why don’t you focus on your own entries to the play?”

                    “Oof, er pffoott” spluttered Becky. “Good pooint, Poubelle. Soorry I wooke yoou!”

                    #1194
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      “Barry the White Bear is the last person having seen Arky the missing Aardvark “ Mlle Mongoose reported back to the team of worried animals.

                      “And did he say anything more?” Angela Goose asked, interrupting busy-looking Mlle Mongoose in mid-sentence.

                      “Well, if you’d let the Director speak, perhaps we could hear what she knows” said Freaky the Ferret.
                      “Don’t be zo mean to Angelipooh” Jobby the Hippo said compassionately “You know poor Angie is zo buzzy with Baba Yolanda coming over”
                      “Who?” asked Weirdy the Weasel distractedly
                      “Baba Yolanda the Loon !” answered Angela with a hint of exasperation “You’re not paying attention my dear? I told you ages ago she’d be coming this week to the Zoo to spend her winter here… I figure it’s getting too difficult for her in the wild given her age.”
                      “Well, I hope it’ll be better this time; last time she came, she left you in a pretty bad shape, it took us months to get you back on your feet. It should be time for her to get over that old ugly-duckling complex…”

                      “Ahem”, managed to say Mlle Mongoose who was however following the discussion with great interest
                      She continued “As far as Arky is concerned, perhaps you should go see him yourselves. You’ll probably get more from Barry White than I did; He’s bearing the management a grudge since we decided to raise the temperature of his room because everybody around was catching colds after colds.”

                      “Oh, great… my time of hitting the spotlight has finally come, and I’m stuck with dear ol’ Baba Yolanda” sighed Angela Goose.

                      #1193
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        Georges and Salome’s journal

                        From Salome’s account of her introduction to the Turmak People (Part 3)

                        Cil and I have stayed on the Murtuane longer than was required for the report on the events occurring here. Though it was not required, it proved invaluable for me to gather much information on both the planet itself, but more important, on the interconnections with the other planets and the Guardians themselves.

                        A pivotal point in this exploratory mission was the impressive encounter with one of the few still focused Nirguals of this dimension. N’meôrl, as he introduced himself to us, out of concern for the current events came to contact Cil despite his looking askance at the Guardians on the whole.
                        As it appears to be, due to their acute awareness of how energy can be manipulated to create one’s own reality, some of the Guardians became to view themselves as superior in knowledge and skills as to the other conscious creatures roaming on this dimension —most of whom already having far more understanding of things deemed “magical” in my own earthly dimension of origin. However, viewing themselves as such (though by no means the standards in the Guardians societies) had them manipulate some of these others; mostly to entertain themselves or to experiment, without concern as to the others’ reactions.

                        Frown upon by many Guardians, this practice was tolerated notwithstanding, and had created a few pockets of what the Guardians called “slaves”. Inquiring to Cil as to how people with such thin veils between their subjective creative source and the objective realizations could become “slaves” to others, she had struggled a bit to explain to me at first. Allowing her to reach into my awareness for associations or analogies with similar energetic displays, she surprised me —surprised is even a mild word for my initial reaction— by telling me it was the same as our religions. Struggling initially to understand her point, I find myself, if not entirely agreeing with it, at least being able to explain what she meant by that. To her, people were ultimately free unless they themselves were tricked into bondage. But bondage could be of various nature, and she continued to explain, physical bondage was the less efficient of all. “Guidance”, on the opposite, with the proper construction of suggestions and beliefs, could yield very efficient results.
                        So, those “rogue” Guardians were nothing else but priests? The difference between this association and Cil’s distaste for them seemed too strong. Perhaps I would have to reassess my own beliefs.

                        So, apparently some of these Guardians had been responsible for disturbances. Cil seemed to understand that something grave was happening, but when she tried to explain to me, once again words or clusters of thoughts seemed to fail her. She found in my memory some analogy which seemed again quite besides the point, though very intriguing.
                        She said it was similar to what our medicine men were doing with their needles. She probably had reached into my memories of traditional acupuncture medicine. She went on to compare the planets as a single body, with bumps and hollows in energy; usually, the body knows how to harmoniously balance both of these, and a bump can reflect into a hollow and vice-versa. Sometimes, when people create illnesses, the practitioner will move these to help. But something else was happening here: the flow was artificially changed, she said.
                        “What was the point in that?” I asked. She pondered for a moment, then answered without judgment that it was probably for the sake of the experience.
                        “The Nirgual is mostly warning us that this experience may not lead to an equilibrium before long. That it may profoundly modify the energy on the planets, and not for the better. The Murtuane and its Turmak people have mostly had a stabilizing impact on the very energetic events happening on the Duane. Modifying this could quickly take things out of our hands” she said worriedly.

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