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  • #2150

    In reply to: The Story So Far

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      The Alienor Dimension, Georges and Salome

      Dory (in our current timeline/space reality) meets Georges in a cave in Madagascar during her trip.
      Georges doesn’t explain much, but we get the feeling that, though human, he’s a Traveler, crossing bridges through dimensional veils.
      Sanso, who we happen to meet at times, is supposedly another type of Traveler too, but apparently happier to cross earth-bound space veils rather than time or other-dimensional ones.

      Georges is closely linked to Salome. They are involved in the Alienor Dimension, another parallel universe, which was initially used as the set of the first story bits and in which they are involved at some historical points of importance.

      The Alienor dimension is composed (as we know now) of a central sun named Alienor, and a few planets.

      One of these planets is the Duane, which is a planet similar to Earth, except having easier access to magic, and having dragons, where the characters of Malvina, Arona, Leörmn, Irtak, Badul, Tomkin etc. are supposedly living. A map of parts of that planet was drawn somewhere in the archives.

      There are two major historical plots occurring; one in a time parallel to our own, with Malvina, Arona, Badul’s explorations etc. And another, occurring what we would call centuries earlier, with Lola and her dragon, and the Yellow Princess Atiara story-arc (see Araili’s notes).
      Somewhere in between, many years before Arona’s timeline, there is a subplot with Franiel, the monastery succession, the chalice and other magical artifacts. As far as we know, it ties to the other epochs thanks to Madame Chesterhope and Vincentius’ story.
      Madame Chesterhope is, we found out, known to Georges in his youth, when he first met Salome. Madame Chesterhope is originally from our dimension (Earth, around 1800s something?) but has learned how to travel and is thus able to move through dimensions, and has a few special powers, presumably thanks to artifacts she gathered along her trips.

      Another twin planet is the Murtuane, where there are giant eagles (counterparts of dragons), “mermaids”, zentauras (zebra-centaurs), green-skinned people, and purple beaches. This planet remains to be explored more in depth.

      The third planet, the Phreal, is rarely spoken of, as its vibration was changed before even the first epoch, and is no longer ‘seen’. Guardians, a special race of this Alienor Dimension with great mastery of the energy manipulation powers are involved within most of the historical changes, and in this one in particular.

      Malvina’s explorations are linked to those of her two “sisters”, each paired with a dragon. Initially she’s a healer, but recent developments have made her change locations a few times in space/time, and those alterations have inserted probabilities in the “past”. She has known Leonard, who is also a Traveler and who is linked to Franiel’s subplot.

      #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.

        #1030
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Images floated across the dark screen of Elizabeth’s closed eyes as she lay on the bed. She was aware of the trees rustling in the breeze outside her window, and the soft breathing of the miniature giraffes curled up by her feet. The afternoon heat was intense, heavy and soporific.

          An island, strewn with debris; fallen trees and unidentifiable mangled wreckage of a stainless steel tubuler kind; splotches of blue everywhere dried and cracked into oddly shaped human-like-alien forms, and the telltale battered paint can with the word Azure showing, unscathed.

          Darkness, damp smells, grey stones and spiders webs, slippery underfoot, bone coldness, and then a glimpse of lime green maidenhair ferns, a shaft of light and the sound of gurgling water….

          Water sounds becoming surging tides, roaring pushing sucking head spinning weighty and then silence and the tinkling of windchimes….

          A dog barks in the distance, waking the miniature giraffes. Big brown eyes atop slender necks gaze at Elizabeth as her eyes flutter open and then close again.

          Last orders gentlemen PLEASE! and a jostle of bodies in the smoke and laughter and babble of voices. A crush of humans across a long wooden barrier for large glass vessels full of foam topped amber liquids. A hush. Silence falls as a glass box perched high in a corner begins to speak. Elizabeth can see the head and shoulders and the serious face, she can see the lips moving, but the silence is total and she can’t hear the words being spoken. The Big Hush, she heard herself think.

          Hurdy Gurdy music and a merry go round…..grinning white horses up and down and round and round …..

          Elizabeth drifted off to sleep.

          #1029
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Elizabeth frowned as she hung up the telephoone. Finnley’s news was rather disturbing.

            “Al has gone crazy!” he’d said. “He is sending everyone to the island and killing spiders and magpies and lord knows what else; that couple with the bad skin, they’ve been stuck inside their hotel room for weeks….”

            “Whoo, whoo there, slow down a minute, WHICH couple with bad skin?” Elizabeth asked.

            “Your couple with bad skin! They were your characters!” Really, Elizabeth could be exasperating at times, Finnley thought, and not for the first time.

            “Oh, yes, them. HHHMMM.” Elizabeth had been silent for so long on the telephoone that Finnley hung up in frustration. He would communicate with Elizabeth telepathically instead.

            #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.

            #1023
            1da
            Participant

              4:21:44 PM 8-8-08 1da Geolocation Time.

              sometimes the flow climbs a mountain.

              pause. step. quick step. pause again. step. upstream another step. the stones solid, smooth, settled beneath my feet with the timeless passing of water. the path of gravity. the rising of a mountain. a rapid, considered, going on pace. sand between the stones. the moments of time. light on the rippling waters flickering. the air transparent, timeless, crisp, cool.

              knowing i’ve passed this way before, i pass again for the first time.

              it’s good to be back. returning. beginning.

              knowing my destination. the cave far above beneath the ancient pine. the boulder near the rough and gnarled trunk, slick and smooth. so hard the sense is of softness gliding with my fingers over the iridescent surface. soft to sit upon, to watch the valley far below extending forever into the distance. soft to recline upon, arcing my back. the warmth of the day in the stone, lingering far into the night to heat my bones. …knowing my destination, i take the next step into all that is new.

              sitting near the water. deep transparent pools of green/blue. the setting red sun. a shelter beneath driftwood high on the bank. a myrtle tree draping a blanket of scent over me, opening my soul. with each breath. i watch the light fading into the words echoing through my skull… life is hard… the song…

              Life is hard
              Anyway you cut it
              Life is sweet,
              Like a berry from a tree
              Life is temptation, baby,
              Every single day
              Life is hard

              Life is funny,
              I dont mean ha-ha
              It‘s not always sunny,
              When it needs to be
              Life is frightening,
              Nothing lasts forever
              Life is hard

              My time
              Is next to nothing
              My time
              Falls on you, yeah
              Everything
              Is in motion
              Life is hard

              Life is precious,
              No matter how you see it
              Life is crazy,
              Like yellow fishes in the street
              Life is lonely
              When you‘re not with me
              Life is hard

              Gentlemen
              Is that you story?
              Hanging religion
              From a tree, yeah
              My time
              Is next to nothing
              Life is hard

              My time
              Is next to nothing
              My time
              Falls on you, yeah
              Everything
              Is in motion
              Life is hard

              My time
              Falls on you, yeah
              Life is hard
              Life is hard

              – J. Mellencamp – while on the planet earth.

              ok. life is also beautiful. – 1da

              it’s a cruel crazy beautiful world – J. Clegg – also while on the planet earth.

              stars flickering in the fading twilight. the silence of a light breeze as pine boughs begin to whisper. the ache of tall trees swaying in the night with a moan like countless masts on the tall ships of a planet. blink. and i sleep.

              #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.

                #1014
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  “Oh just leave the reader to do the proof reading, Yurick! If ‘there are no accidents’ then a few misspellings or a bit of mangled grammar might contain a clue for someone somewhere, somewhen….
                  it might be best to leave them in. You never know, you know… and anyway, I have this funny feeling that the pages aren’t quite as officially fixed as we might be inclined to think. Not quite cast in stone, as it were….Don’t ask me what I mean, Yurick,” Dory said with a laugh, “Because I can’t explain it.”

                  Yurick knew better than to ask Dory to explain anything, and remained silent, with one eyebrow raised quizzically as Dory rambled on.

                  “It’s like the branches of a tree,” Dory continued, with a faraway look in her eyes. “The branches on a tree look like such a tangle, but they are all connected to the trunk ~ the roots might look like a hopeless tangle too, if we could see them, but they do know what they’re doing ~ feeding the trunk or the core which sprouts out all over the place. There’s a bird in the tree, hopping from branch to branch. Does he care if he hops from one branch to another? No! Imagine if the bird was so rigid that he had to hop all along one branch from start to finish before changing to another branch.”

                  “Hahahah,” Yurick laughed, “A Sumafi bird?”

                  “You might say the little bird is the present moment, free to hop onto any branch at any time, or even fly to another tree…” continued Dory, who hadn’t heard Yurick.

                  “Another tree?” asked Yurick with a mock pained expression. “I have enough trees on my plate already.”

                  “And the thing is with trees, there isn’t really a place to start hopping or a place to stop hopping, from the birds perspective.”

                  Dory turned to Yurick with a grin. “It’s a book that you can read from any starting point. No beginning, and no end… maybe we can have all the pages loose with no numbers on, sort of a do-it-yourself assembly…”

                  Yurick laughed, a trifle nervously, and asked Dory if she would like a cup a coffee.

                  #1012

                  Elizabeth just had a brilliant idea actually.
                  Why not just print her rumbled heap of scattered notes… just as it is. In four volumes if needed.

                  What Lemone was saying in his Words of Comfort for the Descended already?

                  It’s not the writer’s job to piece the stuff life is made of together, it’s the job of the reader.

                  “Bloody good point,” she’d be keoon saying.
                  Trust the reader to take what they want, read on impulse… Whatever or not… She had a feeling that in the future when people are reading her stuff, that it will make more sense to them than to current day average readers.
                  She was so leading-edge.

                  Of course, her editor would make a fuss, but he would have no other choice than recognize her genioos.

                  How exciting it all was.

                  #1009
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    The truth was the book was nowhere near finished. In fact the island story she was working on currently was becoming more and more complex. Elizabeth put it down to her own wonderfully complex nature, this insatiable need to add more and more characters, all converging on the island for the dramatic finale.

                    Finale! She snoorted derisively. Having no idea where it was all going ,if the truth be told, then there was not much likelihood of a finale for quite some time.

                    A tentative knock on the door. It was that bloody Finnley! Since the sex scene fiasco Elizabeth had banned her entry to her office. Quite a rookus there had been. Still, she had to grudgingly admit, the girl had writing talent! Perhaps she could make use of her. Elizabeth quite fancied herself in the role of a leader, and the idea of Finnley in a sort of subservient underling capacity was tremendoosly appealing to her.

                    #1008

                    Where in the name of Floove is it?

                    Elizabeth Tattler held the telepooh away from her ear, and reflected serenely on the dust particles illuminated by the sunlight streaming in the window, while she waited for Bronkel to end his tirade.

                    She was proud of herself for managing to keep her voodish nature in check and attributed this new found calm to the latest book by Lemone, although unfortunately, with all the brain foog she was experiencing lately she was unable to recall the name of it …. Wisp Away Your Energy Balls?

                    Well no matter, something like that anyway ….

                    And what was that bloody man going on about? WHAT deadline for her book! 8/8/08 ???

                    #1006

                    Bea sighed loudly, and dragged a tissue across her sweaty face. Leonora obviously hadn’t heard her, so Bea sighed loudly again.

                    What’s up with you now? asked Leo, who wasn’t really paying attention to Bea’s incessant whining.

                    Oh I dunno, I just don’t know what I want to do, Bea grumbled. My head’s in a fog. I’ve got hundreds of ideas, but I don’t want to do any of them badly enough to even think about starting anything. So then I try to sort a few thing out, you know, so I can bloody find things again, and I just end up with a big pile of bloody miscellaneous. It’s the bane of my life, all the miscellaneous stuff that defies categorizing. I should have been called Miss A. Laneous. I start to sort things out and then I get sidetracked; I never finish any sorting out, I just end up with more and more miscellaneous….her voice trailed off miserably.

                    Leo swiveled round in the computer chair, took off her glasses and glared at Bea. Bea, you know you always find what you need by trusting that you’ll find what you need when you need to find it. You’ve told me that time and time again. You’ve droned on and on about that, how you love finding ‘just the thing’ and ‘by accident’ and now you’re sitting there moaning and groaning because for some inexplicable reason ~ Leonora rolled her eyes ~ you think that having things neatly ordered would be a better way.

                    Well, it would be nice to be able to find what I’m looking for, Leo, Bea retorted.

                    Well if you found what you were looking for right away, you silly cow, you wouldn’t find all those other magical bloody surprises by friggen accident, now would you?

                    There’s no need to be rude, Bea said sniffily.

                    Now it was Leo’s turn to sigh. Why don’t you bugger off outside and find something to appreciate, you grumpy old bat. “Oh! look at this, Bea!” Leo exclaimed, “Look what I just found by accident!”

                    Leo swiveled the computer screen round so that her friend could see.

                    “Illi sat up and surveyed her surroundings. The sky was a deep azure blue, the sun was making twinkling stars on the waters of the lagoon, a warm gentle breeze rustled the coconut palm leaves, and birds sang and twittered in the foliage. It was indeed idyllic, and Illi decided to simply enjoy it, while her new ideas formed into a reality.

                    Illi was enjoying a new found freedom in her contentment, in not pushing her energy in frustration, and meandered happily around the island taking mental snapshots of a thousand delightful and marvelous wonders, appreciating even the smallest most insignificant things. Time lost all sense of meaning: there were deep velvet indigo skies full of sequins, and there were abstract multicoloured sunrises and sunsets; there were cottonwool clouds in cartoon shapes suspended on a canvas of blue. It mattered not the day or night; there was no longer a sense of time passing, just a glorious collage of appreciation and beauty.”

                    Bea read the excerpt reluctantly, and harumphed.

                    Oh for Gut’s sake, Bea! Leo was getting exasperated. Try appreciating miscellaneous floundering fog then.

                    #1004
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Becky was undecided. Add to the last entry? Or start another? Grinning wickedly, she started another.

                      Her second impulse selection was a slightly late coincidence, but a coincidence notwithstanding. It was about Sand Dragons . A Few days previously Becky had been to an auction. She bid for and won a first edition copy of Wisp magazine; it had cost her an arm and a leg, but she was delighted with her purchase. It would increase in value, and was a delight to read some of the first published articles of the many authors, poets, artists and photographers who would later become famous. The article about sand sculptures had reminded her of the T.R.A.P. day out.

                      Well, how about that! exclaimed Becky, reading the rest of the comment. Wish House is one of my most favourites, and I chose it by accident!

                      She read:

                      “Illi used to play a game with Cranky (as she affectionately called nanny Chraddock) in the long months while her parents were away, called Wish House. Every room in the sprawling Elizabethan house was a different time and place, and the moment they entered the room they imagined themselves to be different people, in other times. Petunia Duster the maid loved to join in too; consequently not alot of housework got done, but with Gus and Flora always off travelling, nobody minded. Playing was, after all, so much more important than dust. In fact, a thick layer of dust made the rooms all the more mysterious and magical.”

                      Becky ran her finger along the dust on her desk and smiled.

                      OH! Becky jumped. I almost forgot to make a note of the number, now what was it? she mused, scratching her head. I think it was 171 :notepad:

                      Becky wondered whether or not to start another entry. Intuitively, she chose not to. Her third random choice was another synchronicity with the first edition of Wisp: it was about pyramids in Spain. The first edition of Wisp magazine was particularly valuable as it was the first mention in print of the discovery of the Iberian pyramid culture.

                      Number 835 she noted :notepad:

                      #1000
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        Tina scowled: “What?”
                        Six at the top means: A goat butts against a hedge.
                        “Oh, that must be another of Becky’s evil doing…”

                        Al added after a moment: “when I scrap the last line, the draw is not bad either …”

                        “Oh,” he said, looking at the numbering… “Eighteen to go in eight days…”
                        “Yes,” said Tina, “we will have to slow down now, better tell Becky that, or she will see our entries and go crazy with new ones”
                        “Ahahaha” Al couldn’t imagine how Becky would react at someone telling her NOT to do something ;)) — it was like playing “you won’t dare” with a child :))

                        #998
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          “Okay,” Al started.
                          “At the essence of I Ching, is the notion that everything is mutable, and changes. Everything changes, except the law that says that everything changes.
                          “In many ways, the I Ching is like a book where the pages numbering change every time you start to read it. Not unlike our story composition.”

                          “I get that,” answered Tina, interested by what would come out.

                          “So,” Al continued, always disagreeably pondering, Tina would say. “usually, when people are drawing to read from the I Ching, they have six numbers that give an hexagram. And these numbers are carrying into them their potential change, which usually gives another hexagram to read.”
                          “In our stories, the entries have a fixed identity, which is given by the system; this is our starting point. For your comments, this is ’4-191-328’.
                          “But as everything evolves, our entries are given an order in the book; this order is changeable, and that’s what I will use for the second hexagram; in your case it’s ’2-151-223’.”
                          “If you say so…” Tina sighed, a bit lost.
                          “Oh, I’m inventing the rules as we speak,” Al said trying to reassure her somewhat.
                          “I don’t know if that makes me feel better” she said.

                          “Okay. Now, I need to create the hexagrams; hexagrams are defined by six straight or broken lines; zero or one, binary system. Here, Chinese usually use the convention that odd is straight, and even is broken… Ahaha, doesn’t seem to make sense, but odd is male, unbalanced into action, and is associated with single, straight things. Broken is paired, complete in reflection, unbalanced in passivity.”

                          “And I wonder when we actually start to hear something that makes sense?” whispered Tina, a bit crossly.

                          “Okay, the thing I see, is that I have trouble making one hexagram with seven numbers, ahaha”, Al laughed a bit embarrassed.

                          “Oh, then no point in wiggling like that” said Tina very sweetly, “Scrap any bit that bothers you”.

                          “Okay, anyway we can go deeper into them afterwards if needed; I’ll scrap the first number rather than the last, because you see, 2 and 4 are both even, and thus there is no mutation here.”

                          Original Mutation
                          8 ╌ 3 —
                          2 ╌ 2 ╌
                          3 — 2 ╌
                          1 — 1 —
                          9 — 5 —
                          1 — 1 —
                          4 ╌ 2 ╌

                          “So here we are, if we scrap the bottom one, we get…”

                          #996
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            Hang on Al!, said Tina, although there was really no need as Al, still pondering, did not seem to be in any particular hurry to enlighten her on all this I-Ching business. I think Becky is trying to telepathically communicate a limerick to me.

                            Oh well, said Al philosophically, Better to speak nonsense than to be dead or sorry.

                            #995
                            F LoveF Love
                            Participant

                              Elizabeth knew there must be something profoond in today’s “Words of Comfort for the Descending” quotation, after all, it was a Lemone quote:

                              Better speak nonsense than be dead or sorry

                              But for the life of her she could not find the significance. She sighed. Her brain felt so lifeless lately.

                              #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.
                              #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.

                              #974

                              Malvina is outpouring love, sighed Leormn happily to Arona, with a little smile on his face.

                              Arona rolled her eyes. Hmmph, well that is all very nice, but meanwhile I can’t get into the damn cave, which, quite frankly Dragon, would not worry me other than I am anxious to locate my friends.

                              And then she burst into loud sobs.

                              I have had a gutsful of you and Malvina and your shifting of things, she managed to gulp out eventually. Shifting this, shifting that! and nothing looks any better after all the damn shifting. I mean what on earth is the point of it?

                              :yahoo_crying:

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