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  • Bert remembered running away when he was a kid. He had run away often. But he never got very far. They always caught him and took him back. The foster homes might look a bit different on the outside, but to him they were all the same. So he just kept running. These memories flitted through his ... · ID #3543 (continued)
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  • #1056
    Jib
    Participant

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

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

      :fleuron:

      No particular feeling at first.

      :fleuron:

      One of the little ones, maybe…

      :fleuron:

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

      :fleuron:

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

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

      #2154

      In reply to: The Story So Far

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        The Main Guardians (Alienor)

        To better follow some of the threads involving Alienor history, and particularly the Guardians involvement, here are some sketches of the main Guardians.


        Some references:

        • (Samira appearance) ID1338
        • (Sinadron, Noraam, Keliom) ID1344
        • (Sinadron, Nareena, Noraam) ID1521
        • (Shu-Lum alt. spelling of Shu Lom) ID1561 ( IIIIII )
        #1055

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

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

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

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

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

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

        :fleuron:

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

        #2153

        In reply to: The Story So Far

        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          The Crystal Skulls So Far… :crystal-skull:

          The crystal skulls first appeared in the Far West saga, where it’s hinted that around the 1850s, some crystal skulls are found/smuggled by Aldous McGaughran. Their origin is not told.

          It seems that (at least) one of his crystal skulls are passed down to Claudio in Spain through his grand-father’s acquaintance of Cillian Mc Gaughran (one of Wrick’s ancestors) — ref.
          That skull is auctioned and a lady in salmon (the fake viscountess who is in reality an agent of the Mad Baron) gets it. This skull finishes its trip in the Baron’s lair (at around our time ~2007)… The Baron’s mansion will become (in the 2030s?) the home of the twins, and Wrick family.

          Some of the crystal skulls are also found in the past (1950s?) around the mysterious figure of Mrs Chesterhope who is already hunting for them in (Brunei?) sultanate, using Georges to do so.
          Later (around 2008) she locates one on the island of Tikfijikoo, and she sends a gang of magpies to find them, but their efforts are thwarted and she needs to get there in person (and motorcycle).

          The Confregation is an organization which seems to know some things about them and are the origin of the one lent to the Dr Bronkelhampton on Tikfijikoo (retrieved from Crusaders a long time ago).

          Beattie and Leonora Fletcher, a couple of batty Brit ladies seems to have found some of them too , and have a network of their own…

          Later (2030s?), near the Indian Ocean, one is found by Gayesh’s family too

          #1043
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Serendib Facility, Sri Lanka ~ (2036)

            Becky had been strangely shaken when she saw appearing in the last word cloud “dead becky” in huge letters.
            Surely she was not scared by death, as dead was only a different term for a different life, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to croak so young!

            Perhaps she died in childbirth; after all, it wouldn’t be so surprising because then the Serendib Facility looked very much like an eerie transitioning place. She tried to remember… When was the last time people had surprised her; done something unexpected, something she couldn’t have calculated. She thought Tina perhaps… Well, on the holographic visiophone, Becky had seen her with utmost details rolling her eyes, thrice even, at the mention of the ménage à trois… But of course,… that hardly counted as a surprise.

            She was starting to freak out. Gayesh! GAYESH! she called out running in the corridors of the facility barely managing to get a bewildered look from the nurses apparently now accustomed to her antics.

            A few moments later, she was comfortably seated in Gayesh’s office, with a warm cup of coffee in her hands. Aaaah, she loved that scent, the warmth that goes right to her heart. She felt comforted. At least if she was dead, the coffee seemed real enough.

            Gayesh had taken an undecipherable look once she had told him of her… premonition. She intuitively felt that there was something he wasn’t telling.

            She almost gurgled her last coffee sip uttering to the doctor “If I’m dead, then spit it now!”

            The laugh from Gayesh came as a surprise to her. “Ahaha,” she couldn’t help but notice, “a surprise !”

            Looking straight into her eyes, he told her “Well, perhaps your premonition has some deep meaning Becky dear, but you look quite alive to me, and with a constitution like yours, likely to live till 157 years old, if you ask me.”

            Becky was greatly relieved, even though she still had the hunch that the mysterious handsome doctor wasn’t telling her all the truth. “I think that idle life is making me insane… I need to see some real dusty rocky stuff; all those projections won’t do for the rest of my life. All the more since I’m supposed to live that long!”

            Gayesh was looking more and more preoccupied.

            “What is it, dear?” Becky asked, starting to feel the pangs of angst coming back at her. (she whispered to herself some of her favourite mantras: stand behind the short wall, breathe, breathe, yes, YES, it’s not your energy…)

            “You see Becky dear,” Gayesh answered after a minute of silence, “there is still some issue with the cloning process; until we find some advanced way of doing it, the clones need some of your cells regularly to be kept in good health, otherwise, I can’t really promise Becky Tooh (that was how the clone#2 was nicknamed) a life as good as yours. That’s why I’m a bit reluctant at letting you go on some errands…”

            Well, if she’d wanted some surprise to see that she was alive, there she got more than enough, Becky thought.

            #1032
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Finnley looked appraisingly at her reflection in the mirroor of the staff toiloots. She turned her head, surveying herself from different angles. Sure, her hair was cut very short, but she had always thought it looked quite fetching and stylish, and so easy to care for.

              She turned over the empty cleaning bucket so she could stand on it to get a better view of her body in the mirroor. Perhaps the baggy blue cleaning dungaroos she wore were not the most flattering on her slim figure, yet incredibly practical nonetheless, with 6 large pockets. She had bought several pairs on special, so she could alternate them.

              That Elizabeth Tattler was clearly just one of the mindblown ones. Mad as Almad.

              And getting worse by the day!

              Perhaps it was just THAT time of the moonth, but for some reason Elizabeth’s insistence on referring to her as a male had really hurt Finnley today. Ever since she had attempted to help Elizabeth with the Island story by modifying the love scene , just slightly, Elizabeth had been intent on undermining Finnley’s sexooality. Not only that, she appeared to be fabricating Finnley’s involvement with the noovel she was writing. Just yesterday she had overheard Elizabeth telling her publisher, Bronkel, that Finnley was telepoothically implanting evil suggestions in her head.

              Finnley shook her head again, this time in bewilderment. For Foocks sake, someone should do something about that woman, before it is too late!

              Studying herself in the mirroor again she undid the top 3 buttons of the shirt she was wearing under her dungaroos and made a mental note to buy a poosh-up bra after work today. She mussed her hair up in what she hoped was a sexy look and made her way to clean the computer gooks office.

              #1028

              12:54:07 AM 8-10-08 1da Geolocation Time.

              wait. an entire day disappears. no matter the stars and crickets go on just the same. no waiting. on this journey there are places, wind and the night. stepping through the darkness I move slowly into the moonless night.

              the driftwood shelter far away. thirst becoming noticeable. the clear water is enough for now.

              rain begins to slash down. large drops that soak to the skin in a few moments. a hard driving rain at the front of the storm. leaves thrash about as if to escape from the earth bound trees.

              Stumbling into the brush, i press close to the trunk of a tall redwood and sink down. the dust of the day remains here. even the crickets seek shelter. The shivering slows. i begin to relax, slipping into a dream.

              an island. far away. the last moments of sun warm on my skin. a rabbit the shade of pink clouds against the fading light. the cave far away from my dream as i drift deeper into sleep.

              #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.

              #1022
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                Arona put down her paintbrush and sighed loudly. She did not want to paint the walls of this damn cave. She wanted to find her friends.

                She closed her eyes and listened to the silence. She listened until she felt the edges of her body disappear and begin to merge with the darkness. And still she listened.

                At last she heard the voice.

                It’s easy. Just move.

                She felt the question start to form in her mind. As she asked it the edges of herself once again began to separate from the cave.

                Shhhhhhhhhh she whispered, because she liked this feeling of being part of the All.

                And without questioning, at least for now, she began to move.

                #1015
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Elizabeth was beginning to realize that there WAS no ‘end of the road’, no grand finale, no finish line. Whenever her characters appeared to be nearing the proposed grand point of the story, she found herself following another thread in the impossibly huge tapestry. Maybe she didn’t want it to end, or perhaps it was that there was no ‘point’, no end point to aim for, that it was all just a process, a continual weaving of marvelously coloured threads. Some threads were gaily coloured silks, some were rough and coarse, some were woolly and comforting, and others were plain and functional. There were threads of the most unusual and unexpected fibres, other worldly threads tying the myriad dimensions and chapters together somehow. It really was the most fabulously intricate and absorbing construction.

                  #1005
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    This I Ching business wasn’t very convenient to figure out, Al was thinking.
                    For Becky’s draw, he had more than a handful:

                    entry 3 (id:1610) #835
                    entry 2 (id:234) #171
                    entry 1 (id:1275) #638

                    All he had to do was relax, and know that the magic would appear by ways of his interpretation of these numbers.
                    He wanted to get 6 numbers out of these 3 comments. So, for each of the comments, he would make 2 numbers.

                    So, for the original comment IDs:

                    • 1275: 1 (odd) and 2 (even) gives (odd) ; then 7 and 5 gives (even)
                    • 234: 2 and 3 gives (odd) ; 3 and 4 (odd)
                    • 1610: 1 and 6 gives (odd) ; 1 and 0 gives (odd)

                    odd-even-odd-odd-odd-odd (what a bunch of odds, he thought, though barely surprised remembering the numbers came from Becky)
                    that’s 1-0-1-1-1-1 or |¦||||

                    From now on, he would spare everyone the maths, and play some interlude music while working out the magic.

                    (some lalala music) :yahoo_party:

                    and for the mutation (835,171,638): 1-0-0-0-1-1 or |¦¦¦||

                    And the result: ‘Fellowship of Men’ mutating to ‘Increase’

                    Bah… this is more fun to add more nonsense than try to figure out what it was all about. Al was finding it the moral of the story for today.

                    #1002

                    Becky noticed with a satisfied smile that the word ‘Becky’ was by far the biggest word in the cloud. Hhhhmmmm, interesting, she murmured as she perused her random (well semi-random ~ she had deliberately chosen a cloud-batch with her name in it) selection of words.

                    sudden feeling!! :yahoo_surprise: breathe!! :yahoo_yawn: remembered sort (appear soft?) :yahoo_wasntme: ~ akayli?? ~ :yahoo_thinking: seem…. cave…. yeah, huge! :cluebox: known luce; knew agreed. :yahoo_thumbsup: becky full power hey! :buffoon:

                    #989
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Oh, he thought, at least Tina’s coming another 8 closer (then immediately thinking he was now changing it to another start of a cycle — another convenient way of saying he’d just blown this new magic occurrence of “858”, but wasn’t it how changes were supposed to be made?).

                      Now, what the cloud had in store for him, he wondered…

                      elikozoe sync closer especially dear ask soon suddenly began known difficult step”

                      OK, Al thought, now that’s interesting… this was no coincidence that “Elikozoe”, his nom de plume (he was born Albert (Al) Yokoso, from a father of Japanese descent and a mother of Cajun descent) would appear like that out of the blue…
                      As for “dear”, who else than “Dear” Tina :agreed:

                      #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.
                      #977
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        Well, shall we scratch all the glukenitches droppings first?, asked Leormn in winking dismay. You know, before we put the new wallpaper?

                        A few seconds passed in silence. Naaah, just kidding. Have some paint please.

                        And * pof * a few buckets of shiny flower-scented paintings pots appeared in front of Arona, with some nice brushes dipped in them.

                        #975

                        Well, now you mention it, sweetie, it’s quite funny because I was about to tell you the exact same comment… That may be a hint that at least our telempathic skills are slightly better when they are shifted, Leormn said with a draggle (that’s a dragon giggle)

                        Arona could feel a warm blanket of his energy trying to reach her between her toes, but she felt so very ticklish, that she resisted a bit.

                        Just keep it still, you snuggly dragon she managed to say between short laughs

                        You’ll find your friends back, you know; that’s just that you now need to beat your drums for a while,… just as Malvina needed to. I meant to tell you, she can get pretty hot-tempered, and usually it’s not a pretty sight, so she prefers to put everyone out of the way; and frankly, even for me it can be hard to reach her through all these dark clouds grumbling in her head.

                        I thought the others were in that darn cave too? said Arona in disbelief (for she knew dragon’s talks weren’t really to be trusted)

                        Well, can’t you tell for yourself? You’re more than capable to tune your vibration to your friends if you want to. You are as far from your friends physically as you are from them in your vibrational offering to the Universe

                        You look different dragon, looks like you’re not speaking like the Leormn I knew Arona shook her head to try to see between the mist of teal-smoke enveloping and twirling around her.

                        All things change Arona, and you know that better than anyone. Simply trust your feelings, and reach for the new version of those things you thought lost. They may appear different, but you’ll know without a doubt that you’re where you want to, when your anguish has left place to that warm feeling of being in the place you want that you long for.

                        #972

                        The world at large seemed to be going out of whack, and yet, all things seemed more and more perfect to Yurick when he was observing how these sudden surges of unsettling energies where only skin-deep —unless of course people wanted to make them out of proportion, and have their fair share of drama.

                        It was after all, only a matter of vibration. It could be as easy as noticing the least tension in his body, and releasing it as soon as noticed. It didn’t have to be big; small improvements were actual improvements, and really, all that ever mattered.

                        So, on the whole everything was fine, and he was surprised at how much, despite the sometimes dreadful incidences that had reared their ugly heads the past few weeks, people he knew had been able to cope with them, and no less than embracing these usually deemed “ugly” extensions of people’s own vibrations.

                        Noticing a slight tension in his solar plexus as Yann was telling him some little flowers where appearing on the cherry tomato plant, he released it with a grateful sigh…

                        #964

                        Tina, don’t listen, she’s only a clone!

                        AHAHAHAH, now that’s Dory calling us delusional, see Finn…
                        I told you she’s a mad woman, believing all
                        that stuff about ancient pyramids in Spain ahahaha

                        I’m not schizophrenic, no no!

                        And now she only speaks about that Wrick she’s just met…

                        STOP THE VOICES IN MY HEAD!

                        :fleuron:

                        Focus on what you KNOW, BE in the NOW

                        ~ I AM ~

                        I KNOW I am more than what I appear to be.
                        I KNOW it is all One Experience.
                        I KNOW I don’t need to know everything, and if I do, information will appear.

                        ~ I KNOW I AM ~

                        #961

                        Much to Arona’s surprise…

                        Although I don’t know why I am continually surprised, she thought, surely I am getting used to this weirdo story by now.

                        Well anyway, Arona found herself standing outside of Malvina’s cave. She was still so caught up in the last warm remnants of her delightful reverie in the field of flowers it took her a few moments to realise that the entrance to the cave had disappeared and was now a solid wall of stone.

                        Hmmmm, yes, said Leormn, appearing in the nick of time to answer her unspoken question, Yes, Malvina has been shifting things around again.

                        I can’t get in though! complained the ever astute Arona.

                        No, agreed Leormn reflectively, you can’t. Well there is another entrance, but this has only been disclosed to an elite few. He smiled smugly.

                        #960

                        New Venice, July, 1 st 2035

                        The night was hot in New Venice at this time of the year. The weather patterns had been steadily shifting for many years, and the climate was now sub-tropical in the inundated Big Apple, as more and more people resented the usual coldness of winters, and had subjectively agreed upon a heightening of the temperatures of a few degrees.

                        Though accustomed to tell his body to relax, and vibrate at a lower frequency to counteract the sticky and displeasing effects of the heat, Al was finding sleep hard to find. Usually, he would attribute those moments of twitching slumberness to mass accessing of subjective information and bringing them to the objective. With the eclipse that would occur in the next weeks, those were still time of great cosmic synchronistic congruence.

                        Needless to say, he and Tina had been somewhat stirred by Becky’s sudden casualness, and relative abandon not only of the Reality Play but also of her three lovely first born to her friends.
                        People of that mysterious facility that Becky had briefly spoken so highly of had been doing a fantastic job, considering the very early birth, but still, Al had soon noticed the babies were displaying some kind of emotionless state which was eerie to observe in children that young. He had first thought of a remnant from the birth trauma, but it appeared that they were all perfectly aware, and even more than that, accutely aware of their environment to the point of displaying qualities of awareness akin to telepathy or pre-sentience.

                        Sam’s innate talent with the young ones had been very beneficial to them, and Al was hoping, would help them access their emotional communications as a guidance system to navigate within the immense and potentially overwhelming quantity of subjective information they were given such an easy access to.

                        Finally after having spent so much time before the cyputer, Al was collapsing from tiredness. He threw himself on the tatami for a healthy dose of rejuvenating sleep. Or so he thought…

                        :fleuron:

                        Al woke up with a chill, sweat beading over his eyebrow.
                        He remembered.
                        They would come… Hybrids from their future… He remembered having met one a few years ago.
                        A strange bald guy with piercing eyes and strange snorting twitches on his face. One moment he was talking to him in the middle of the ramp waiting for a condocab, and the moment after, he had forgotten all of this encounter.
                        The guy had said intently to wait for the time when the Dream would remind them it was the Time of the Reunion.
                        So what was next? Aliens coming in their aluminum flying saucepans making mosquito sounds?
                        That sounded awfully like the outrageous rants that old Russian guy named Pasha was making years ago in the archives of Dory —which they had taken as a basis for their Reality Play…

                        Gosh, that dream was so vivid, it couldn’t be a coincidence… Especially since the first Hybrids to make contact all looked like they were clones of Becky!

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                      • Bert remembered running away when he was a kid. He had run away often. But he never got very far. They always caught him and took him back. The foster homes might look a bit different on the outside, but to him they were all the same. So he just kept running. These memories flitted through his ... · ID #3543 (continued)
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