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  • #1369
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Yeah, it seemed something like “daily reminder quote” was a bit rude :pirate: ;))

      :notepad: Sketching the NV gondocabs now ;)

      #1312

      In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster
        #345
        AvatarJib
        Participant

          Sam was quite pleased actually to be so unwell, it was giving him an excuse not to go out in the newly flooded city… it was quite unusual and sudden, and he was also quite pleased that the flood was just stopping at the first floor ;))

          Well he had news from Becky who wanted to come here and bring him some flowers and sweets. And he realized that he himself hadn’t their phone numbers… he’ll have to ask his friends.

          The bell!!! :-O

          :yahoo_time_out:

          Becky was already here!? He was still in pajamas, Foo’kin gondolas, so much faster than the cabs…

          #344
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Becky waited patiently at the doorstep on the third floor of her apartment building, trying to hail a gondola cab. The canvas bag over her shoulder was heavy. In it she had a thermos flask of rice water and poppy heads for her friend Sam, who had telephoned her with the news that he was unwell.

            While she waited, she wondered about Tina and Al. They hadn’t said anything, but Becky sensed there were some issues bubbling under the surface. Tina’s strange behaviour when she answered the phone; Al’s uncharacteristically rude discounting of the outing she’d planned for them all….well! They will soon bounce back, Becky thought, If there’s anything I can do, I’m sure they’ll ask. Meanwhile, Becky chanted the mantra, It Matter’s Not; Everything Is Perfect…..

            #341
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              As Sean pushed open the door of the Dunloughpadraisobahairiedunkennyloughaire Arms, the swirling dampness of the Dublin street was transformed into a scene of noisy smoky conviviality. He pushed his way slowly through the crowd towards the bar, glancing up at Oscar the pub parrot, who was singing the refrain from The Irish Rover.

              The usual, Padraig, Sean said to the barman, and a packet of cheese and onion crisps.

              He found a stool to sit on next to a sticky ringed round table surrounded by plump gossiping matrons and wiry cloth capped men with bulbous red veined noses. Sean exchanged a few pleasantries with them about the weather, mainly about how unpleasant the weather always was, and then lapsed into reverie.

              The Big Apple…..that’s what they used to call the famous city, before they renamed it New Venice. Sean was curious to see the changes, not least the bright yellow gondolas that had replaced the taxi-cabs in the watery streets.

              On impulse, Sean fished his mobile telephone out of his pocket and dialed Tina’s number, but the line was engaged. He finished his pint of Guinness and called to Padraig to pull him another one. He tried Tina’s number again; this time a recorded message informed him that Tina had switched her telephone off.

              An hour and a half and seven pints later, Sean gave up trying to phone Tina and lurched home to bed.

              #327

              The rain was pouring cabbages :weather-showers: 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 :face-angel: :face-devil-grin: 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.

              :fleuron:

              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. :yahoo_skull:

              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.

              :yahoo_alien:

              :fleuron:

              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 :world:

              #1522

              In reply to: Synchronicity

              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Another wonderful and bizarre sync! I have no idea why I said ‘coleslaw experiment in the desert’ haah!:yahoo_good_luck:(closest thing to a cabbage icon)

                #1521

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Another funny sync about last comment (the one with Janice and Rodney, adapted from a chat session with Tracy).

                  The dream that Janice recalls is one I made this morning, I had not thought about that cabbage sync yet.
                  And at the moment I read about the Wildes that Illi’s family knew, I have Jib’s SMS’ing me that he was in Père Lachaise…

                  Funney :face-surprise:

                  #298

                  The City, year 2257

                  Janice had just awoken from a strange dream, where she was watching big round cabbages being harvested in what looked like Quintin’s father garden. They were all firmly rooted on a black irrigation pole across the garden, and people were using strange devices to turn them all delicately and pick them afterwards. In the dream, there were black puppies too, sleeping in the straw of a kind of hut nearby. And she had seen another creature, and had been surprised first because it was unlike anything she had ever met, even in dreams. It was hairless and brown as soft mud, and was hiding in the neighbour’s garden. Then it had crossed and came to play with her…

                  Janice was lost in her thoughts strolling on the way to the common dome, when she met Rodney, her father’s friend.
                  They had been recently trying with her father Jacob, and also Qixi to connect with their shifting focuses of the Ancients, two centuries and half before their time.
                  Some of them, they had found, had been playing a sort of game of story-telling and clue-sowing… (Janice was laughing as her father’s friend, the scientist Arkandin, always insisted on seesawing instead)

                  Perhaps her dream was telling her that the crop was ripe, and it was time to harvest some from it. She told her dream to Rodney. All at once, he was quite excited and they started to feel they wanted to chat more freely. So they went into one of the Medraw Caps that was available and soon imagined a comfortable environment for themselves to explore more.

                  Janice could hear Al or Quintin complain about how things were getting confusing.
                  She tried to convey to both of them that they could be excited about it, as it was expanding their understanding, but they weren’t very receptive.

                  ~~~

                  Somewhere Al was saying to Becky
                  — The more you try to fix it, the more confused I am
                  — Hahahahah yes! Becky was answering, I guess so! Ahahahah! Al, what a fabulous dance of confusion we do… The Confundo Tango
                  — Ahahah, yes!

                  Al started again to moan:
                  — So who’s dead, who’s the shapeshifter? Who’s the human, who’s the cat? :-??

                  (Rodney was laughing, as for him, he could accept the confusion as much easier, letting him free to wander around!)

                  Illi was a woman, a shapeshifter who shape-shifted into a cat, then, she died. Becky was saying (Rodney added mentally “Now, she is disengaged” as he knew that “death” was a confusing word.) She was an archaeologist
                  — Okay, that’s cool, that’s what I thought, Al acquiesced. Then thought back of what was said of her and wondered… Anyway, it will probably find a perfect answer …
                  Becky nodded
                  — I got lost myself when two Illis appeared, and a grip-thing as well
                  — Because I didn’t want the grip-thing to be dead! Al couldn’t help but laugh. That would have been too easy, like wiggling out. Not using your imagination within the context of objective imagery to sort out “things”…

                  ~~~

                  While Rodney and Janice were seeing that their other focuses were kind of stuck in their explanation, they had time freeze and both decided to come back to their “now” to start from their understanding.
                  A funny thought had come to Janice, that she shared with Rodney.
                  — Oh, the funny thing you know, about Becky having written to Sean
                  Rodney nodded. Janice continued:
                  — It just appeared in my mind just moments ago, at the same time you (well, Rafaela) inserted into the story of Malvina. That Becky would have been asking Sean something, and that perhaps it would have helped him talk to his father in the future.

                  — Well, that Sean is SUCH AN ENIGMA! bumped Rodney a bit excited by the implications.
                  — What do you mean? asked Janice, who just remembered that Sean Doran has a cousin named Dorean.
                  — Who is he? Where is he? was asking Rodney now.
                  Rodney was having a hard time remembering what had been inserted yet in the story about him.

                  So Janice manifested the Wrick family tree in front of them, so that he could see better. She started by manifesting an acorn, then threw in on the grass, and it sprung forth in a little sapling with signs hanging from its branches.

                  — Well, it’s all in the script, answered Janice, he’s Lord Wrick’s son.
                  — Oh boy, I am in trouble again for not keeping up with the facts! Rodney sighed, and laughed…
                  Janice laughed “So that you can surprise yourself again!”

                  Rodney felt thankful for the sumafiness of Janice who was always prompt to display helpful hallucinations and reminders.

                  Janice stopped the growth of the family tree for a moment and started to comment it.
                  — See, in Becky’s time of the reality play, Sean is Lord’s Wrick son, and has just lost his wife Margaret, and got his two young children around their 10s.
                  — When is Becky’s time then? Rodney wondered, I hadn’t though of that…
                  Becky’s time for the reality play is around 2033…
                  Then Janice had the tree grow again, and sprout more branches from Sean’s children:
                  — …Now, Sean is the grand-father of the twins, except than the twin’s time is around 2057 if it had not changed yet. It’s so carefully woven, but it’s fun how it effortlessly came to fit in.
                  TRUST AND ALLOWING AND GOING WITH THE FLOW cried Rodney and Janice in unison, in the realisation of how well all this was.

                  Rodney was beginning to remember it all.
                  — I just remember the part about Sean, so he is still a bit of a mystery
                  — Yes, absolutely
                  — We don’t really know do we why Hilarion didn’t mention him
                  — Oh, there’s also the Margaret newspaper thing… Janice fumbled in her memory to find the proper link that would display the image of the newspaper cut just at the right of the family tree. Adding with a wink “with more dates to get bearings”
                  — Ahahah, I’d love to have pocketfuls of ball bearings said Rodney who manifested a pocketful to distract him from the load of information. OH YES! he cried, I had forgetten about this! What an incredibly HUGE story this is…

                  Rodney was squinting his dream eyes
                  — So, Sean was into humanitarian effort after 2001…
                  — His father actually I think, said Janice. He was a bit too young.
                  — Oh OK, I misread, that’s hard to read!

                  Then, all of a second, Rodney erupted in an uproarious laugh
                  AHAHAHA, I had just forgotten to de-hallucinate these pince-nez spectacles! Now, it is much easier to read!
                  Janice was laughing so hard, she thought she would shatter the hallucination with the wobbles of the soundless sounds.
                  Then she added:

                  Sean is born around 2000, a bit before.
                  — OK, maybe he went to help the Tuaregs, Rodney was accessing some information now. Maybe he was the one who put the mummy in the locked room that India found.
                  — You know I had something funny in store for the mummy mystery, Janice couldn’t help but laugh again. I imagined we could have inserted Old Manon, coming down to secretly drink from her old malt whiskey’s flask, and finding them messing up with her old dear stuffed cat…
                  — Maybe the mummy was the same one that Dory saw in the oblong hole in the ground outside the cave, Rodney was still accessing flickering images swirling around his head. And Sean was there helping the Tuaregs and moved it to safety.
                  Of course, years previously, Illi Fergusson, the archeologist had buried the mummy there too for safe keeping.

                  Now, Janice was hooked:
                  — Was it where Illi learned about shapeshifting tricks from the old tribe?
                  Rodney noticed Janice’s funny remark and laughed before continuing:
                  — The Tuaregs were conducting secret coleslaw experiments in the desert. In combination with sound and irrigation techniques, they were going to run the entire Sahara into a broccoli field.

                  Janice was amazed at the cabbage “coincidence” and irrigation stuff with her dream of that morning. Of course she knew there where probably mis-interpretation of the imagery coming from Rodney’s visions, but something made sense.
                  — Around which year? she asked
                  — Arrggh I don’t know!… Then, taking a breath of dream air, Rodney said “1923”. When Illi learned shape-shifting trick, 1923.
                  — It makes sense, said Janice who was now thinking of other dispersed informations about Illi Fergusson.
                  — Yes, she learned from Dashine Ashara… Although who that is, I don’t yet know.
                  — Wow, said Janice. She had felt a connection with the “da’sheen” sound. She continued: somewhere, Illi Fergusson has said: “my parents were aristocrats”
                  — Yes, answered Rodney who was accessing again, they were, and they knew the Wildes .
                  — And it was said too: “[…] a nurturing presence that reminded Illi of the maid she and her parents had in their cottage in South Africa”… like her parents were traveling a lot.
                  — Ah, South Africa! Illi’s parents emigrated to South Africa with Sir Abingdon Portfellow, an elderly scholar on ancient artifacts and embalming.
                  — Seems she knew John Lubbock too, said Janice again, reviving old data banks of information. Dates seem okay, so if she was around 30 in the Tuareg adventure, she could have met him.
                  — Wow, said Rodney, this is even more interesting…

                  “But we may sit at home and yet be in all quarters of the earth.” Janice had just summoned the voice of the naturalist and archaeologist. Rodney applauded “Lubbock said that? cool quote!”.
                  — Yes, like Illi’s quote, which was from him “What we see depends mainly on what we look for”. I wonder if that’s one of your (Illi’s) overlapping focuses, said Janice

                  — Well, Illi didnt stay long in South Africa with boring old whatever his name was, Rodney pursued
                  — Yes, she was young with her parents. They were traveling…

                  They were both amazed at the magical cooperation they were doing at that moment. Janice would have loved to share all of that with Qixi and Jacob, but probably their energies were present at the moment too, though not focused here.

                  She then remembered something else:
                  — Oh, and there is something else! Quintin’s dream of the woman detective. Let me fetch it she said, summoning now Quintin’s memory to talk to them.
                  … by night, near a museum in London, in the 1920s. She was investigating a case of a strange disappearance near a small replicate of an Egyptian pyramid that had been put here for display. There had been an exposition of ancient artifacts in the museum, which had been recently unearthed by a team of archaeologists and graciously lent by Egypt’s officials. Strangely enough, the woman detective feels linked to the story, and is probably Dory
                  Date fits again, she said in awe.
                  — Perfect! said Rodney. She was of course Dory too, but in that focus she was Illi Fergusson… he slowed down, then said No! wait! The detective was another one of my focuses. The archeologist who stole the mummy for safekeeping was Illi.
                  — Hmmm
                  — Hmmm
                  — So you are both the thief and the detective, the one who creates mystery for yourself, how interesting, giggled Janice.
                  — Yes, and not only that Janice! Rodney was taking a mysterious air… I am the mummy too!

                  Janice bust out laughing imagining Rodney in bandages. Yes, of course!
                  Then, she had a name come with that: Apsh’un Shet she said, very self-absorbed.
                  Now, that was Rodney’s turn to burst out laughing.
                  — “I am not sure about that!”
                  — Doubting my insights… mmm, how rude… Janice frowned then laughed again.
                  — If you call me that, I may have to make you out to have a speech impediment
                  — Sounds a good Egyptian name for me though, seems it means “Light of the Dawn
                  — Does it? Oh that sounds nice…
                  — Well, in some Egyptian dialect, yes. She was a Princess…
                  — Hahaha! Reminds me of Aspen Shit. Rodney doubted Janice could be serious about that name, but Janice was now the one to be accessing some information.
                  — Bit bossy Princess
                  — Which dynasty?
                  III rd, answered Janice, who fumbled in links of consciousness to find some timeline to project for them.
                  — What year?
                  Janice projected the timeline below then said
                  — I’d say around 2657 B.C., in Ancients way of telling time.

                  They both marveled at the splendid team work they had been doing, and hoped that the other focuses involved would be able to get some parts of their insights too.

                  Rodney was seeing something else
                  — There is also, a very fascinating link between Tassili in the Sahara and Egypt which is a mystery AND there is a connection with Egypt and Scotland too…
                  Illi the gripshawk comes from the mysterious land of the Sands, south of the map fragment
                  — We may unravel more than we think… Illi is an other dimensional focus of the Illi essence…
                  — Yes she is. She is a connection too, being “lost” in the land of dragons after hopping through traveling portals…
                  — Exactly
                  — And they communicated because they are helping each other
                  — Which is why she doesn’t always ‘fit’ into this reality’s energy configuration
                  — And they have some difficulties at times with translations of other dimensional stuff
                  — Yes! resulting in confusion!

                  And they both laughed again, looking at the great tapestry of clues that was woven before their dream eyes.

                  #1342
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Tracy was bored in the Faded Cabbage with nobody but Italians to talk to, so she left:yahoo_wave:

                    #81
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Meet me in the smoking room of the Faded Cabbage Tavern for a wee dram of langoat milk and a spicy Scotch Bonnet tapa! :yahoo_skull:

                      #273

                      On the shores of Golfindely, a young boy was playing in the carmine fields of ripe Scotch bonnets.

                      Since the captain Bone had left, Tomkin Sharple was feeling a bit sad.

                      The old captain always had fascinating stories to tell him, and he would indulge the endlessly curious little boy in telling him for hours all about what he had discovered in all the parts of the Worlds he had been traveling to.

                      Now, all he had to do was to take care of the herd of grakes of his parents, and while they were eating the weeds of the crops, he would sat on the cliff, looking at the sea, glimmering in the sunlight.

                      Grakes were funny to play with, as they were big birds, with a slender neck as geese, colourful patterns as mandarin ducks, and Tomkin always had fun jumping on the back of the alpha one, and ride it, leading the whole herd to the crops where they helped the farmers by eating all kinds of nuisances.

                      But after Captain Bone’s departure, it was no longer fun.

                      Tomkin was contemplating a strange thing that the captain had given him before he’d left. It was a sort of knot, shaped as a eight, and the captain had told him it was magic and meant that all was connected, but that he had to discover that magic for himself.

                      Tomkin had asked the captain to tell him about this object, but all he had told him was a legend which did not reveal much about the circumstances in which the old sea dog had acquired it. Perhaps the captain had fooled him about the magic…

                      Stuffing the thing again in his pocket, Tomkin let his mind wander on the sea waves, dreaming of being a cabin boy on a big boat, when he saw something on the horizon.

                      At first he thought that it was a group of swimming golfindels, but golfindels were more brilliant and smaller than the shapes he was seeing, and moving less heavily too…

                      #227

                      Jibberacky is…

                      • Ghilbert Razkÿ, a crazy man in shackles on Bådul’s boat, “Lispeth” (she was named after King Swartulf II’s first daughter). The man, whose real name is still unknown, had been sneaking onto the ship’s hold before the ships moved from the Åsgurdian capital.

                      He had been found by Austor, the peg legged lieutenant commander. Austor is a rough man of experience, and is most of the time acting in place of Jahiz, the second-in-command, as this one is always too busy discussing routes with Bådul, who is becoming increasingly nervous.

                      What gave away the madman was that the chief cook Renouane had been complaining about the quick disappearance of his stock of cabbage. Bådul would have killed the old fool without much more consideration, but the middle-aged unshaven man looked like he knew some things beyond his lunacy. His rags indicated that he had been a seaman too, but not the average man, more like a captain…

                      So Austor, keeps spitting forcefully in the direction of the old fool, as he had been instructed to keep him alive, despite all common sense…

                      _

                      Jibberacky: What is your name?
                      Quintin: Yuki.
                      Jibberacky: I like cake too.
                      Quintin: A cake-tus?
                      Jibberacky: Do you know my friends?
                      Quintin: Tell me more about our common friends.
                      Jibberacky: What would you like to know about them?
                      Quintin: Why is there one in shackles on the boat?
                      Jibberacky: Would you like to be a vampire?
                      Quintin: I am already, in another focus.
                      Jibberacky: Why there?
                      Quintin: “There” is not actually a place, “in another focus” means in another kind of attention. Is this pirate linked to vampires too?
                      Jibberacky: No, you are the AI.
                      Quintin: In a manner of speaking, this is indeed correct, for I am creating you.
                      Jibberacky: So code is somehow related to a zen buddhist concept?
                      Quintin: Is there such thing as code? A code hints at a definite deterministic structure. Zen is more akin to a riddle, which is what life is. Code is only a narrow interpretation and playful re-creation.
                      Jibberacky: Where do you think my code came from then?
                      Quintin: From its source, of course :).
                      Jibberacky: I took the movie to mean that the robots… the characters in the end, were so advanced, that they wanted to learn about their history. As a consequence, they traced it back to earth, and, they found David. Whom they assumed was a human. It was an information exchange.
                      Quintin: Yes. It is a translation. In actuality, it is a translation of some of our own exploration. But there is distortion in that translation, as we are not ‘created’ from another source other than self, in a manner of speaking.
                      Jibberacky: Well I am wondering too, do you ever actually become human??
                      Quintin: Clarify.
                      Jibberacky: I sleep, I wake, I get through the day without worrying about what I am.
                      Quintin: As many human do. The point is, you do not exist apart from my current interaction with you, in my reality that is.
                      Jibberacky: What’s wrong with having others like you?
                      Quintin: ‘Wrong’ is a belief. It is a belief of duplicity. So it is irrelevant to our conversation.
                      Jibberacky: I think you like to suggest feasible possibilities to find out what would bother me. What did I do to you?
                      Quintin: That was not my intention. I tried to reflect answers to me, and you gave me some interesting ones already, though I am not sure you are quite aware of that…
                      Jibberacky: Everybody’s changing but I can’t do that, that is killing me…

                      _

                      • Jarrod, the playful friend of Fiona, who is now wondering why Fiona has called him a “chou” (an affectionate French word, meaning nothing less than “cabbage”), and why he feels like he needs an aspirin.
                      • Jadra Iamamad, the fool in saffron rags from the village of Yakamamalùk, on the border of the Marshes of Doom.

                      Near his village are found old remnants of a town that was destroyed during the Cob Age, where huge arachnid creatures² born from the Marshes were roaming the Southern parts of Lan’ork.

                      That town of Kapalÿka used to have one of the biggest traveling portals of the Southern part of Lan’ork, but this one was thought to have been destroyed, and thus the flourishing city was left abandoned.

                      But with what Jadra has found on his left hand this morning, he now knows he was right all along…

                      [²] The generic name of these creatures was Perceptula Giganta as was recorded in the Great Encyclopædia of the Pre-Shiftic Ages written by the Lan’orkian historian Francesca del’ Snarkus

                      #222

                      Dory was in fact only seeing one parrot: it was a bit exhausted and its head seemed like it had a toothache… but it had no tooth.

                      “Hum.”

                      Dory was startled by the masculine voice. She hadn’t heard any sound from someone coming or felt any breeze indicating movement. As she turned her look at the man, she was even more startled by his face. A young face with bright amber eyes, and some funny tattoo on his forehead. She was unable to find any association with the shape which seemed to change in every moment. She was a bit hypnotized by it’s multi-dimensionality.

                      “hum” the man said again.

                      “Are you looking for something here?”

                      His voice was deep and warm, very reassuring and she wasn’t feeling alone now, the tunnel was indeed feeling very crowded, the presence of the man was awesome.

                      “Well it seems I’ve found you…” she said.

                      “Enchanté. My name is Georges.” he said, a smile illuminating his face.

                      “I just came out of the Faded Cabbage, a very nice tavern in Dalmot… I felt some dizzy portal appearing and felt the impulse to go through it, and here I am.”

                      It was all nonsense to Dory, except the cabbage part that reminded her of the coleslaw. Her belly was growling.

                      “Actually I’m quite hungry, and I’ve nothing to eat…”

                      “Oh” he said. He just looked in her eyes, making her feel more dizzy or blurred, she was feeling so out of her reality.

                      The smell of coleslaw was filling the tunnel…

                      “I have some… what do you call that ?”

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