Search Results for 'arrive'

“ As we have stated previously, these terms are quite limiting for explanation purposes. The terminology is not incorrect, by any means. It is only expressing a much, much smaller impression to you than, in actuality, these terms represent. If your interpretation of these terms is too literal, you may find yourself accepting concepts which have only been explained to you partially; for our explanation of concepts is only a minute portion of the entirety of any idea, or concept, or “doctrine.” Only playing, my friend! These concepts must be taken in at this present time, within your present understanding, to the intellect; and the intellect must be allowed to trigger the intuition, allowing a full circle of thought, so to speak; this full circle being a continuous flow of information to assimilation, to actualization, to creation”

Patel

Not AGAIN!! shouted Becky. For the past week every time she tried to open her blog page, it always opened on this old post of Patels. Usually, by a circuitous route, she did eventually manage to arrive on her most recent post…..but not today! That monkey Patel wouldn’t let Becky look at any other post but this.

Funny coincidence really that she’d watched the cartoon last night called Madagascar, starrring Patel himself as King of the Lemurs. Becky had to laugh. A rave party of dancing lemurs on ecstasy!

They were starting to arrive, some sneaking in quietly and unnoticed; some charging in with a flash… some appeared in familiar form (or lack of form as the case may be… there were those who arrived as a whiff in the air, or a sudden flickering in a lightbulb) but most came in disguise, cloaked in layers of colourful riddles.

Felicity sat patiently in the waiting room of DDT Productions, quietly confident in her ability to secure the job. The advertisement had said ‘Do you have the ability to say the first thing that pops into your head? Without doubting it? Then this job is for you!’ Well, thought Felicity, This job’s for me!

Her interview wasn’t scheduled for another half an hour, but she had arrived early purposefully, to get a feel for the place. She smiled; it felt like fun, she decided to get the job.

On hearing the scream Dr Bronklehampton jumped up from what he was doing and rushed towards the laboratory where the Mummy, or Sasha Goldenwort, was having her fifth session under the laser. The only other person with any medical training of note on the island was Nurse Bellamy, who currently was down on the beach climbing coconut palms. A ridiculous pastime in Dr Bronklehampton’s opinion, however a young native boy had taught Nurse Bellamy something called the frog technique for climbing palm trees, and she now seemed to derive great pleasure from skimming up and down and bringing him back coconuts. The problem was, he reflected as he puffed down the corridor, that they had far too much time on this island with not enough to keep them occupied for some months now.

A smell of burning greeted Dr Bronklehampton as he rushed into the laboratory. Sasha was lying outstretched on the floor.

Dr Bronklehampton, medical expert that he was, knew at once something must have gone horribly wrong. He rang the alarm located on the wall by the door in the hope it would raise Nurse Bellamy, and rushed to Sasha’s side.

Sasha was dead.

He could see this immediately. Her skin, which just a short time ago was a beautiful and youthful smooth peachy colour, was now covered in purple weals.

He sat silently for a moment thinking, then calmly and deliberately walked to the laboratory door and locked it.

Nurse Bellamy was indeed halfway up a particularly tall palm tree when the alarm sounded. Oh bugger, she swore. By the time she arrived back at the treatment center, Dr Bronklehampton was reclining in his office. So sorry, he said with an apologetic smile, false alarm. Hope you weren’t inconvenienced. Anyway, good thing you are here, I believe two of the new guests have arrived, you might like to go and meet them.

Oh, he said casually , as though an afterthought, Sascha decided to leave early, while the hydroplane was here. She said to say goodbye to you. Yes, she is absolutely delighted with the results of her treatment.

Vincentius wanted to know where Arona had been heading.

She rummaged in her bag and pulled out her map to show him. Then her honestly got the better of her. No idea really, she confessed. How about you?

No idea either, said Vincentius.

Arona tried to look serious, then cracked up laughing and after a moment Vincentius joined in. Arona could not help but note what a lovely musical laugh he had. Definitely no snorting, and for a moment she thought fondly of dear wandering Sanso. I Wonder where he is now?

While they were busy laughing, they did not notice the woman arrive, but all of a sudden there she was, an old, bent, withered crone. An apparition of pure ugliness. Their laughter stopped abruptly.

Laughing my little lovelies were you, please don’t stop on my account said the crone. What a perfectly delightful sound. Music to my poor old ears. And she cackled gleefully.

oh Lordy, muttered Mandrake, his patience wearing thin with all the, what he considered, unwarranted and unnecessary joyfulness.

and what a cute little pussy cat, said the old woman, her long gnarly fingers gently resting on Mandrake for a moment. Mandrake snarled.

and a baby, said the old woman, reaching out to Yikesy who was cradled in Arona’s arms.

Tina was sitting in a cafe waiting for the others to arrive.

She was studying the play with a bemused and perplexed expression. Good grief, where was her head at? Not only had she saddled poor Arona with a baby, now she had a hunky nanny to contend with as well.

She had been intending to bring Arona to the banquet in the cave … and had somehow got distracted.

She read what she had written in astonishment “bronzed skin pulled taut over rippling muscles”….. “He came bounding athletically over” …. “deep, melodic voice” …and to cap it off calling him Vincentius!

He didn’t even sound like her type, way too perfect, she mused. Thank goodness Al is nothing like that.

Still, she wanted to trust the process and follow the pictures that came to mind when writing the play, even if she didn’t know where they were going.

1/11/2007

Finn felt the time had come to call a meeting.

She closed her eyes and waited to see which of the others would appear.

Yuni¹ arrived first. Yuni had first arrived in her meditations about a year ago, a playful, mischievous character, gnomelike, who nonetheless had always given her very wise and practical advise. Armelle the wise Owl appeared next, silently, her loving energy enveloping Finn. The Indian also appeared. Finn did not know the Indian’s name, she called him White Feather and she was pleased to see him there, having not seen him for some time. A playful Lemur came bounding over. There were several other energies present and Finn knew they would make their identity known if needed, but she could feel their support.

I have been feeling quite heavy for several months now and it has been becoming more intense. I am tired of it. It’s as though I am wearing the cloak of heaviness again. I don’t understand it, and I don’t know how to take it off, Finn announced to the assembled group.

I want to know if you can help me?

Yuni spoke first, or rather he waved the faith document² at her. Finn winced. She remembered the document well. I didn’t know you meant this long, she said quietly.

Armelle gave her a gift. When Finn opened the box, there was a joyful explosion of light and colour. There was also a key.

The key is Self Trust, said Finn, answering Armelle’s unspoken question.

White Feather had been whittling a piece of wood. He handed it to Finn. It was a staff. This symbolises powerful magic, he told her.

Finn felt herself withdraw, not wanting to cause offense and reject the gift, yet not feeling worthy.

This is your decision, said White Feather

Finn felt Armelle smile at her. She took the staff and thanked White Feather.

Do you remember the boxes you made as a child? asked Armelle

Finn nodded. It was one of the games she had loved to play with her older sister, transforming old cardboard boxes into designer rooms. They would painstakingly and lovingly decorate the interiors to create new worlds. Once the rooms were created they may play with them for a few minutes, but would pretty soon be onto the next one, it was the creating they loved.

Cast your mind back a few years, Armelle said. What were the things you wanted then?

Finn cast her mind back.

You have it all don’t you, said Armelle gently.

Yes I do, said Finn. Everything I wanted I have in my life.

You have created powerfully Finn.

Why do I feel so heavy? I suppose because what I thought I wanted has changed and I am trying to still keep it the same. Finn wanted to cry.

I don’t really know what I want anymore though.

What do you know? asked Armelle

I know how I want to feel.

Finn was on a raft, floating downstream. She closed her eyes and decided to let the river take her where it will.

¹ Finn had tried to spell Yuni’s name as Uni initially, interpreting him to be symbolic of one of the “faeries of the Universe”, however Yuni had been adamant that was not the correct spelling. When Finn looked up Yuni only meaning she could find was “man from Iunu”.

² The “Faith Document” was like a legal document Yuni gave Finn to sign, indicating that whatever happened she would keep trusting. Finn was surprised to note when she looked up in her records that this was November 1 ^st, exactly a year ago.

Young Becky shouted to Dan, Dory’s coming back! She sent an email saying she arrives in Malaga tomorrow night!

In actuality, Becky had already known that Dory would be coming back soon. Despite being only a child, she was what would later be known as a Shiftikid, and her telepathic prowess was already well-developed. Well, in point of fact, all children had been born with telepathic skills, all throughout the ages, but the customs of the times had eradicated these gifts usually before the children reached puberty.

The young Becky had been in communication with ‘the dead guys’ as they were currently affectionately known, since before her birth. Thanks to all the links on Dory’s computer, Becky had quickly assessed that she herself was Sumari belonging, and Ilda aligned; of an intermediate orientation, and a political focus. She recalled from before her actual physical birth that she had chosen ‘Exploring Connections’ as her intent for this physical focus.

Becky had purposefully chosen Dory as a step-mother, as her intention had been to grow up in an environment conducive to her explorations. Dory was also Ilda aligned, and her passion for anthropology, archeology and other cultures and times was naturally a great help to Becky and her favourite game of ‘Focus Hunting’.

Becky started to make long lists of all the other focus connections she found, although she had a habit of forgetting where she had started a list, and often started a new list somewhere else. (Dan sometimes commented jokingly that it was almost as if Becky had inherited the ‘forgetful gene’ from her step-mother Dory…..Dan, like most people in those days, believed that genetic characteristics were ‘handed down’ from physical parents).

Becky spent many happy hours playing the focus hunting game, and at times had some difficulty in separating the various other focuses from the current focus she was interacting with. This wasn’t a problem with Dory, or with some of her contemporaries, but often caused some misunderstanding with people who were unaware of their other focuses.

Becky was delighted that Dory was coming home soon. She was looking forward to hearing about all of Dory’s adventures, and she wanted to share her own funny stories about the current ‘Perception Wave’ they were all experiencing.

…… as for himself, Al was not displeased that he had followed the good-hearted advice of sweet Tina about his hair loss………

As Becky reviewed the script of the Reality Drama Play she was reminded with a slight pang of guilt that she had meant to apologize to ‘sweet Tina’ (Becky spluttered her coffee a bit) for being perhaps a bit rude to her about her offer of a hair replacement aid. At the time, Becky had been astonished that Tina hadn’t realized that the baldness was deliberate… deliberate, and very attractive and stylish. The bald patch that Tina had noticed was simply Becky’s incomplete experiments with manifesting the baldness ‘mentally’ as opposed to physically with a razor.

Becky had completed the Bald Experiment via the physical means of a razor so that she would be looking her best when Sean arrived.

Sam kissed Tina… a French kiss as usual. She had always love his way of kissing and as with the shift this kind mark of affection wasn’t much considered as belonging to bonded couples, Sam who loved kissing was really having a lot of fun.

He didn’t do that with everybody though, it had to come harmoniously, and with Tina it was always sparklingly funnily attractive.

She told him she loved the little pooh on his neck, and as he was explaining her it was a just burnt phoenix, the bird just rebirthed himself again in an atomic blow… the effects on Sam’s skin was a bit weird, flowing shadows and shades of greys and greens making him appear like a for a few seconds.

Sean arrived in a bang at that moment, and Sam kissed him on the forehead… no mischievous kiss with him, his energy was directed subtly to another member of the T’mmm.

Adding his own playful energy to this Fairy Nuffy event, he went to talk with Tina and Al about Tina’s new nails cut.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Becky was worried about Sam. He’d been feverishly writing and scribbling jibberish ever since she’d arrived with the rice water (in between frequent visits to the loo, and even then he took his new sketchpad and three pencils with him..what inspiration he found in the bathroom, Becky didn’t like to ponder).

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The door opened smoothly. Baul entered the room.

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

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

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

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

Let me show you something, Dory. George reached into a big red and orange and purple kilim carpet bag ( Dory wondered where it had appeared from; she certainly didn’t recall seeing there when they arrived) and pulled out a large sheaf of printed papers. He passed it to Dory.

Dory read on the first page:
Chapter 343,482,927,457,299,209,2819,298,357,008,557,057: ‘REMEMBERING’
Blimey, said Dory, Long book!

George grinned enigmatically and said, Indeed.

Dory flicked through the pages, reading a bit here and a bit there. Glancing up at George she said, I guess you couldn’t possibly carry the whole book round with you all the time in your carpet bag, the whole book must be enormous!

Oh, the whole book is always in my bag, he said.

Really? Dory asked in a disbelieving tone.

Why yes, of course. ‘It’s all in there somewhere’ he said, and laughed heartily, and a trifle rudely, Dory thought. Yes Dory, the whole book is always in there.

With a hmpf, Dory returned to scanning the pages. Before long she was overcome with waves of nostalgia and familiarity and deja vu, even a sort of backwards deja vu…a vuja de…Dory snickered to herself…

Why is this chapter called remembering, George? If I had written this chapter I’d have called it forgetting.

Becky had decided to take her friends out for the day. Poor Al needed a break from scratching his head in confusion, and dear Tina needed a break from rubbing her aching temples. She knew Sam would enjoy a day out too.

Becky was enjoying preparing the itinerary.

Champagne breakfast at the Droles de Dames cafe in Le Touquet~Pu first, a table reserved under the gaily striped awning overlooking the sea. Fresh croissants and hot coffee, Bavarian cream donuts, tangy fresh squeezed Tesorillo orange and Tiki kiwi juice, scrambled dragon eggs on French toast, and Moroccan mint tea.

The exhibit of Sand Sculpture was next, a pleasant stroll on the beach after breakfast would be just the ticket, Becky thought.

Next, a little side trip to place a few hibiscus blooms on the grave of Oscar Wilde. He was buried at the Father Chase Memorial Garden on a mossy knoll overlooking the sand sculptures, a short stroll from the beach.

A golden coach and six dappled grey horses would meet them at Father Chase gardens and take them to the lawns of Sandlebright Hall, for the hot air balloon ride. The big red balloon would land on Isla de los Perdidos, a magical island in the Rift Straits, for a picnic lunch under the coconut trees and a relaxing swim in the deliciously warm lagoon. Balti had agreed to provide head massages for the little party of day trippers, and had suggested a big iced jug of crop juice as the perfect accompaniament.

A paddle steamer would arrive to take them back to the mainland after the sojourn on the magical isle. There were comfortable whicker steamer chairs on the deck with cosy tartan blankets for those wishing to snooze a little, or raucous poker games inside the red plush interior for those who chose to exercise their creating skills on the green baize tables.

The Cirque de Paradoxia matinee was on the agenda for the afternoons entertainment, with the new sonic stone juggling as one of the highlights.

A theatre supper in Covent Garden, Becky had decided, and the Orient Express was the perfect way to get there. Hercule Poirot had kindly agreed to serve drinks and nibbles on the journey. Becky perused the entertainment section of The Reality Times, wondering which play to take her freinds to. Aha! Salome, of course!

Becky considerately booked rooms at the Hogwarts Hotel on Queen Street for her friends to freshen up and change, ready for the evenings festivities. A hot pink stretch limosine would call for them and escort them to the Blue Man Group show, and then on to the party at the Dragondrome Stadium.

Becky booked rooms at the Taj Mc Fal Hotel for her friends to retire to after the party, whenever they so wished…the pink limo would be available all night.

There, said Becky in satisfaction, they will love it.

Oörlaith heard the sound of a barking dog not far from her rookery. They were back with his master, and she knew at once their mission was complete.

A few months ago she had met a strange man, he told her he was called Leonard, and the funny black dog that was following him everywhere was called Moufle. An ancient word for mitten… Well she didn’t ask why he’d call him like that, the dog was so hairy…

Leonard was a lonely traveller, quite ancient as she could feel, but she wasn’t able to know his actual age. And there were some other weird feelings when she was focusing on his energy tone, something to do with time itself.

When she first met him she knew he was the one she was looking for for ages. It’s been such a long time she hadn’t heard from her sisters. Oörlaith’d been having these dreams since they chose different direction many years ago, Malvina and Roselÿn, her precious ones. It wasn’t necessary for her then to keep objective contact with them through the glubolín.

One year ago, the dreams stopped abruptly, and she tried several methods to reach her sisters. None of them with success. All her attempts failed, and she thought first she had lost her own power, but she knew one can not loose power of self, just forget it or create it on purpose. She realized then it was time to recreate these links more objectively.

She couldn’t find her glubolín though. And Leonard arrived. Fortunately enough he had news from some strange events occurring in the land where she knew Malvina had settled her rookery. Was she still here with Leörmn?

Yann had been feeling many impulses to draw scenes from his dreams and from the story they were creating with Quintin, Fiona, and Truth. It was an urge from inside and last night he had a very intense dream activity, most of which he couldn’t remember, it was more like a big forum with many different personalities all exchanging experiences and exploring new avenues.

He was also attracted by old stories he was writing when he was a student, the one involving Georges and Salome, it seemed to him they had taken a life of their own now, and they felt very powerful, and most of all, they felt like really having fun.

One of the drawing that was intriguing him was one that represented a sign of sort, in grayish sparkly clouds. He had given the pic a strange title, Oorlath. Yann had connected the name to an individual and was surprised when Quintin told him about a princess named Oörlaith. He was wondering who she was…

She still had no face when he thought of her… maybe she was hidden for the moment… and he had the strangest thought that she knew Leonard, the man he’d been drawing with his black hairy dog.

Haha, he had felt her smile.

Chiara was looking for the boy she’d met last time in her dreams. Maybe he could give her some berries again, they were really tasty and fluberrish.

But she’s been looking for him for so long she wonder if she could find the way again…

Where she was now felt different. The light? The air? She took a deep breathe and just sat down on the grassy land. She had a quick thought that the land were more rocky than grassy a few seconds ago, but as she was feeling the grass under her hands, she dismissed the thought.

She was hearing birds singing, it was quite funny the way they were bounding from one sound to the other and she could understand what they were saying, much gossips and a few compliments for a new mother nothing really important to her. She Jibbled.

Lying down on the mossy land, she was looking… mossy? wasn’t it grassy? Now it’s mossy… hope that wouldn’t become mothy

She was looking the clouds, some were grayishly sparkling, she was enjoying it…

“Are you looking for something” a voice said.

Chiara quickly sat up and gazed at the fat lady who was standing before her.

“Hahahaha, you found me at least my dear” laughed the woman.

“My name is Roselÿn, and you are Chiara, aren’t you?”

The little girl was gaping at Roselÿn… how could she possibly know her name?

“I feel I know you :yahoo_thinking:” she said dreamily.

“You make me feel like when I’m with my uncle Yann, and… there’s something else… oh!?”