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  • #276
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Whanga the witch crawled out of the narrow entrance to her cosy cave to survey the day. Perfect witching weather she chuckled gleefully to herself; a tad overcast and cold, which made her job much easier, as even the fairies tended a little to despondency in such weather conditions. She noticed a bruise on her left shin and sighed. Whanga was used to this sort of misunderstanding in her job of course. She enjoyed her work, and was proud of what she did, however humans in particular just didn’t understand the service she provided, and were quick to be vengeful. The dream world left her a little exposed unless she remembered to do her protective spells before sleep, and last night she had just been too weary. Still, she thought cheering up considerably, she had obtained another wand for her collection yesterday, and felt sure this would improve her Witch of Loathing ranking.

      Still feeling a little put out though about the bruise, although this was mainly pride, as she was impervious to pain in the way the humans suffered it, Whanga looked into her glass ball to see what knowledge it would reveal. That little Fairy Princess from the Land of the Far White Cloud was carrying on she saw. Hmmm who was that fat lady with her though? Whanga wondered. She looked very familiar to Whanga, who felt a ripple of uneasiness in her right index finger, a sure sign of danger. This could be trouble ….

      She looked again and saw a young human female, attacking her violently in her dreams. For a moment Whanga toyed with the idea of revenge and cackled happily at the idea of all the mischief she could cause.

      Pull yourself together Whanga, said Whanga, drawing back reluctantly from this delightful daydream. Keep on track. You know it won’t get you any points with the high witch adjudicators, it is the fairies you must focus on.

      #304

      Írtak was playing with the dragon twins in the carved woodstones field. It was mostly faced shaped petrified wood that had been carved surely when it was still wood. The faces were quite hypnotic and made him feel often sleepy, but with the dragons he was feeling all his senses enhanced and sharpened. :face-glasses:

      The dragons were growing fast, hatched only a few days ago, they were already bigger than his father… He knew from Malvina that they could take whatever form they wanted, but he’d always thought that their power were developing from nothing to … something… but apparently they were already fully aware. Their leather skin was glowing emerald green, blended with some purple pink shades, or was it the contrary. It was changing so quickly. He was wondering what they were eating, because he wasn’t the one who was giving them any food. And still they were so big.
      Did they have a “real” form? Whatever that meant.

      One of the dragon gave him a mischievous glance and before he could anticipate what would happen, he was facing a growling troll :yahoo_time_out:. The troll was running right to him, seemingly crushing with his heavy body all the fragile woodstoned faces.

      All his attention was on the troll and he didn’t hear the man coming.
      And now the troll was freezed running and jumping forever… Írtak’s head was like a big storm of boulders falling from the sky. Growling, drumbling apart…

      — You have strange games with your dragons.
      — …

      He was gaping at the man… his skin was bluish with pink also and sometimes a bit of yellow.

      — Who are you?
      — Don’t you recognize me? :face-grin:

      Írtak tried to remember something. had he ever met that man before?

      — Oh right, it’s our first meeting… from your point of view. I’d forgotten that. But you see, for me our first meeting is in your future.
      — …

      Írtak was still gaping at the man, this strange skin of him, it was so ambrulin, that color he’d already see somewhere… was it in a dream?
      The man looked at him, and he felt for a moment a warm fuzzy feeling in his body… not particularly located in any part of it… and he would have… no, it was even in the woodstoned faces around him… how could he feel that?

      — Your dragons are wanting to take part in the fun, the man smiled. I’m going to let them go, as I’m not staying either.
      — Who are you? managed Írtak.

      :yahoo_alien:

      — I’m your father…
      :yahoo_alien:
      HAHAHAHAHAH! No actually that’s a private joke… I’m Andrimiñ (AndruhMiiñ?) we’ll meet again in a few years of your time. Your dragons are really interesting then, and so are you.

      Saying that, the time began to flow again in the right direction, the troll was still running toward him, but he suddenly slowed down and stopped, shape shifting into a bluish boy, with a face so similar to Andrimiñ.

      — Where’s the funny man? he said.

      #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.

      #295

      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.

      #85
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Eric! Your latest comment resembles more than a little the episode of Lost I saw on tv last night. I take it you didn’t watch it too haha…..
        In a nutshell, an exhausted bird on the shore next to the sea that had separated from the other birds (which were scared off by a loud gunshot nearby)…..the guy intuitively knew exactly where to go to find it (he can see future probabilities, incidentally) and he picked the bird up…the point of which was to tie a message to the tagged bird in the hopes of being rescued off the desert island (which is not unlike the one Roselyn Chiara and Illi are ‘currently’ on….)…
        In other words, a ‘talking’ bird….
        OH and the bird in Lost was ‘from other lands’ too, a tagged migrating bird….

        #288

        Tomkin had a keen eye, and despite the dazzling light reflected on the calm glittering surface of the sea, he could see a little dark shape detaching itself from the three bigger forms, and that little dark shape was quickly identifiable as a bird.
        Apparently the bird was not from these lands, it was black with white strips, or perhaps the contrary, and was flying like a grake drunk of having gorged on overripe Scotch bonnets.
        Obviously the bird was exhausted, and crashed on the shore where it was nearly knocked out by the grogonuts which fell with big *thuds* from the grogonut tree on which it had just finished its erratic course.

        Seeing the whole scene from the top of the fatly mossy cliff, Tomkin decided his curiosity was a much more pressing matter than taking care of the herd of grakes, so he ran to the little rocky path which led to the beach below.

        Apparently the bird was still alive, and more surprising even, that was a talking bird. It could speak strange words.
        And even stranger, though Tomkin knew none of these words, he could understand all of what the bird wanted to communicate to him.

        What an odd thing, he wondered… The bird was requesting some food apparently.
        Tomkin fumbled in his pocket for some bread crumbs, when the gift of the Captain fell on the sand.
        Could it be?

        Tomkin’s heart was racing. Could it be that there was magic after all in this strange simple gift? The Captain had said it meant all was connected. That could explain why he could understand that foreign bird… And perhaps it worked on other talking creatures and people too…
        A whole realm of potentials seemed to open in front of young dreamy Tomkin, who was quickly brought down to more earthly matter when Rudy the myna pricked his hand with its beck for the bread crumbs, projecting to him “Give it to me! Give it to me!”.

        #287
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          India Louise and Eugenia momentarily forgot about the gold locket and walked over to the exceptionally long trunk. India dropped the locket into her pocket as she investigated the exterior of the trunk, which didn’t appear to have an opening. It seemed to have been made around whatever it housed, and permanently.

          ‘How strange’, mused India, ‘it must not be intended to open, ever!’

          ‘That makes me want to open it’, said Eugenia. ‘Let’s! Let’s open it!’

          Eugenia was rummaging in the desk drawers for a suitable tool.

          ‘Wow, look at this, Indy’. She held a heavy black letter opener up to show India, with an elaborate carved dragon on the handle. The dragon had glittering amethyst eyes, and a serpentine line of coloured stones along its back.

          India shivered involuntarily at the sight of the dragon. Horrid nasty creatures, dragons, she muttered, resisting an urge to cross herself. ‘Peace be with you, now bugger off’ she whispered the spell under her breath so Eugenia wouldn’t hear her and think she was a silly goose. Horrid scaley slimy stinky reptiles.

          ‘You go first, Genie, try and prise the trunk open.’ India didn’t want to touch the letter opener, but she was rather curious about the contents of the trunk.

          Eugenia was a strong and capable lass, with a practical methodical mind ~ unlike India Louise ~ and before long the first piece of wood came splintering off.

          ‘Nice one, Genie, well done.’ India said as Eugenia wrenched off another few planks.

          ‘Oh MY GOD!’ ‘Jumping Jehosophat!’ ‘What the……’ ‘Holy Moly, Genie, what the….’. After a few initial exclamations, the girls were silent, the hair standing up on their arms.

          They were looking down at the shrivelled features of a dried up body, covered in bits of disintegrating faded fabric.

          ‘A mummy! It’s a friggen mummy!’

          #283
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Laughter is Priceless’ .

            Hey Genie! Look at this. India Louise held a gold locket up to the lamp. It’s inscribed on the back, look: laughter is priceless.
            What’s on the front? Eugenia asked, moving closer.
            The locket was egg shaped and had an unusual south pacific motif on the top, and an inscription in comic sans font on the bottom. Open it, Indy, see if there’s anything inside. Eugenia shivered. OOOhh someone just walked over my grave, she said, shuddering again. It’s weird in here, eh.
            Yeah, bit scarey really, India Louise giggled, fumbling with the locket catch.

            #282

            — The legend of Mævel — (Part I)

            as told by Cpt Bone to young Tomkin

            In the time of the Gods, the King of the Fairies, Aldurion, fell in love with a beautiful mortal named Theÿa.
            He wanted to make her his Queen but only the Elder Gods could bestow the gift of immortality upon mortals.
            So he went to see Ghört, the God of the Airs. Ghört could certainly grant him what he requested, but for that, Theÿa would have to be transformed into an air sprite. Aldurion wouldn’t be able to hold her again. So he declined the offer, and went to see another Elder God.
            Then, he went to see Nærvel, the Goddess of the Waters. But Nærvel could grant him immortality if Theÿa was to be transformed into a water sprite. So Aldurion declined again.
            Then he went to see Agnima, the Goddess of the Flames, and then Selvaniel the God of the Woods, and Margilonia the Goddess of the Earths. But all of their conditions were the same, Theÿa would have to be transformed into an immaterial and immortal elemental fairy. But Aldurion couldn’t bear to have her changed into something else than she was.

            Then, only one of the Elder Gods was left, the one than few of the Immortals dared talk to, and of whom most mortals were afraid, to the point of systematically using the Old Speech respectful form of address (“Shaint”), when referring to him.
            So Aldurion came to see Lejüs, God of the Forgotten.
            Lejüs was greatly pleased to see him. When Aldurion had finished exposing his request, Lejüs took a moment to ponder. Giving immortality was none of his wonts, as he was keeper of the Forgotten. But he was not without compassion, and seeing Aldurion’s plight, he offered to grant his wish at the condition that, not his wife, but their first born child, would become Forgotten.
            Aldurion was so hopeful that all he saw was that the condition seemed so small, based on a future event that perhaps wouldn’t even happen… All he wanted was to have Theÿa as a Queen, and so the deal was made.

            So became Theÿa Queen of the Fairies.

            A few God’s Years later, which meant in human years much more than a few years, Theÿa became pregnant.
            When she announced the news to Aldurion, he was suddenly reminded of the deal he had made with Lejüs, and was quite distraught, as he had not revealed it to Theÿa. But he remained quiet, hoping that Lejüs would have forgotten about the whole story (well, that was forgetting he was Keeper of the Forgotten).
            So Theÿa gave birth to a little baby girl fairy, with golden wavy hair and bright eyes. She, like her mother, had no wings, but there was magic in her. They named her Araoni.

            But Lejüs had not forgotten of course, and came to see the Royal couple to claim the baby. Aldurion pretended that the mother and baby was still very weak, and he would have to come back in a few God’s Days. Lejüs agreed, and left complaisantly.

            Aldurion was at a loss for solutions, but Theÿa was a fairy with lots of ruse, so he decided to reveal it all to her, hoping that she would have a solution.
            Theÿa asked him time to think about this, and told him not to worry.
            Later, she had an idea, quite brilliant she thought. All she had to do was to find another child to give Lejüs.
            So she gave baby Araoni to one of her diligent nurse, the old fairy Gretchÿa, telling her to find a house were a blond new born girl could be exchanged and proceed to the exchange of the babies.

            So Gretchÿa went across the lands of the Worlds, but only in one home she could find a blond baby girl. The new-born baby girl was almost dying, as the parents were a careless couple of peasants, already plagued with many children, and they could not bother with children hesitating to live.
            Gretchÿa was heart-broken when she did the exchange, promising to baby Araoni to get her back soon. The young human baby girl was weak and yet unnamed, and the old fairy nurse knew she would probably not live long, and be claimed by Shaint Lejüs. So all was good.

            When Lejüs came back, he smiled as he saw the baby girl, and left with her without much more words for the Royal couple.
            Lejüs smiled, for when he had taken the young baby, the parents had instantly forgotten about her, and so did everyone having ever known her…

            The human parents, surprised to see the condition of their baby improving beyond all hope, named her Mævel, which meant marvel of Maÿ the month in which she was born.

            #1446
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Oh is there? :face-surprise:

              Anyway, not to sound too bossy, but perhaps you want to ask about the latest instalments…
              Finn is a cool name they say:

              Means “fair” or “white” in Gaelic. Fionn mac Cumhail was a legendary Irish hero who became all-wise by eating an enchanted salmon. He fought against the giant Fomors with his son Oisin and grandson Oscar.

              Cool :yahoo_cool:

              #1345
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                I tried the langoat cheesecake… T’was not as creamy as mascarpone one…
                But the coulis was nice :D

                #79
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  These are excerpts from Yuki’s diary, explaining some of the details of the experiment called — Malvina’s story —.

                  Note: for the reader not familiar with all the names here is a quick reminder:

                  • Araili > Yann, Írtak, Sam, Jacob …
                  • Armelle > Fiona, Arona, Tina, Qixi …
                  • Rafaela > Dory, Illi, Becky, Rodney …
                  • Yuki > Quintin, Al, Janice …

                  September 12 th, 2007

                  Today, an experiment has been launched by Quintin. Time will tell if it will bear some fruit, but the idea sounds good.
                  Having people join in a story telling, and see what happens, what are the “lessons” one can draw from this…

                  Armelle, Rafaela and Araili are already on the starting-blocks, though Quintin is not quite aware yet.

                  I can hear some thoughts: Let’s say for the moment that there are no rules. We will see what prompts the desire for having rules…

                  September 13 th

                  Some of the people familiar with Janice and her friends’ adventures have already joined in with much enthusiasm.
                  This first comment seems very promising.

                  Right now, it feels easy and fun.

                  Quintin seems to think that everything is very straightforward.
                  The magical world with the cave in one part, separated from the “real” world. (Two Worlds, and he thinks that will be enough to content Rafaela, ahaha, how presumptuous)
                  The first he sees as a representation of what psychologists think of as “subconscious”, and the other being the conscious, physical part.

                  But of course, he thinks he knows better than that. He calls the first one “subjective” rather than subconscious, because it’s a translation of subjects which unfold in many related objects in the “objective” or physical world.
                  That’s a good point, though a bit distorted. It would be better to say Malvina’s World is a translation of the subjective, in the manner of a Heroic Dimension.
                  But the thing is, that he missed the point in thinking one World is more “real” than the other.
                  We’ll be having some fun soon…

                  First remark… The second comment of the story has been interrupted abruptly in the middle of a sentence. That is interesting. We will urge Quintin to leave it as it is, despite his feeling of it being awkward.
                  We will appeal to his imagination.
                  It seems he has heard the suggestion.

                  September 14 th

                  For the most part, the story starts to get much involvement. Lots of energies are being projected into it, and with every adjunct, each participant’s perception stretches to accommodate the changes and smooth out the bumps in their own sense of continuity.

                  But as I expected, some challenges seem to appear already.
                  Is it raining or not in that world?
                  The question seems simple, but it is very profound and Fiona seems to struggle a bit with it, as is Quintin. The question frame itself [“that World”] shows where the difficulty lies.

                  He seems to avoid the discrepancy and pretend that he has not seen it. Mmmm, avoiding the obstacles… that will very soon come right back in front of you dear Quintin, for Dory is quite playful.
                  At least Fiona has been challenging Dory for not paying attention… Armelle’s ineffable loving ruthlessness!
                  How will it unfold?
                  Rafaela seems to be delighting herself as though she’s preparing some mischief, but Dory struggles in the “back”…

                  September 15 th

                  Dory is indeed very playful and her imagination is unrestrained. I extend much appreciation to this focus of Rafaela, especially as Quintin has to stretch his imagination to make things “fit”.

                  Quintin is still avoiding the issues that appear sporadically and prefers to stay focused on his own perception of the story… Careful Quintin :face-smile:

                  Yann joins the fun —objectively, that is, for Araili has been present already since the very beginning.

                  September 16 th

                  Halcyons days…
                  My dear friend Archie is answering some of Quintin and Yann’s questions.
                  Something starts to dawn on Quintin. But his mind is on other matters.

                  He understands that the energies of the writers are melding in writing the story, but he still tends to think that they blend completely.

                  September 18 th

                  Quintin has been drawing some of the characters of the story. It’s interesting.
                  He had good insights, as Yann will tell him later that his clothes today were exactly the same as the colours he had drawn.

                  Characters drawn:

                  • Mavina, Leörmn the dragon and weaszchilla, Írtak, Huÿgens (and Fjutch), Arona and Illi (the gripshawk)
                  • Malika, Quintin, Yann, Fiona and Dory

                  Interestingly, Fiona resolves her issues in her cave.
                  Dory too, but she did not need the cave to do this.

                  September 21 st

                  For Quintin, the story seems to lose all common sense, as some characters move from World to World. You could have expected that Quintin!
                  And Dory pops in and out, in her mind, in her dream state, or in future timeline mixed with present or past one.
                  Quintin will soon realize that he himself is doing this constantly, though he does not register it.

                  But the worst thing for him is that there are bleedthroughs in between Worlds. The Reality Times newspaper was brilliant Rafaela, a perfect trigger for the beliefs that the Worlds are closed and impermeable to each other!

                  Archie has been answering new questions about that story and this had been quite interesting for all of the participants.
                  There is much for them to digest from the realization that each of them had been creating their own versions of the stories through their perceptions. And that they were each having their version of the story, drawing from each other’s input, like a conductor of an orchestra incorporating some instruments.

                  Of course, some things still matter, and one of the point of the story is also to discover these.

                  September 22 nd

                  Quintin has been drawing new characters.

                  Characters drawn:

                  • Båd Al’Guz (Bådul), BelleDora, Buckberry the dragon, the twin dragon eggs, Archibald the parrot, Sanso the Wanderer
                  • Illi Fergusson, another Illi that Quintin has tried to sneak in as a bait for Dory, with hints that she is disengaged (or “dead” in common vernacular) and merges with others of her focuses…
                  • Jacqueline Bleomelen (Nanny Gibbon), Lord Wrick, his great grand children the twins Cuthbert and India Louise, Manfred, William P. Jobsworth the painter

                  A new perception trick: Dory felt relieved upon seeing the moth feelers of BelleDora.
                  She had at first thought they were whiskers, which was not Quintin’s intent…

                  September 23 rd

                  Quintin seems to have connected to a map drawn by Lord Wrick, when the old Lord has started to document his great grand children travels.

                  Quintin had tried to put some annotations on this fragment, but he doesn’t yet completely understand that his perception of this World, though accurate, is only valid in this present moment, and may change at any time.

                  Up to now, here are the names he could find:

                  • North: the Icy Lands, and Dragon Cemeteries
                  • Center: Goldfindely, homeland of Arona, connected to the Warring Kingdoms of Lan’ork by the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer. The Isthmus of the Dragon Head seems to lead to Malvina’s cave and hideout. Mount Elok’ram is pointed as the highest place of the World yet discovered. Three main rivers are drawn: in the ancient myths of the people of this land, they represent the three Daughters of Ghört, weavers of men’s destinies: Tibreÿa, Uleÿa, and Snimeÿa. Snimeÿa cuts the thread of life, which is shown as the river leads after many meanders to the Marshes of Doom.
                  • Far East, North: the Land of Båd Al’Guz, Åsgurdy. A harsh mountainous land of islands and seas.
                    Both parts of the World seem to ignore each other till now, as they are separated by the Great Rift, which in the past has deterred many intrepid navigators.
                  • South: the Desert Lands. Illi’s birthplace, rarely explored by humans thus unaware of most of its marvels, gripshawks nomadic tribes included.

                  When he discussed Arona’s village with Fiona, Quintin had the vision of some dolphin-like creatures, but bright yellow. They are called golfindels and are mostly seen on the northern shores of Arona’s homeland, which is thus called Golfindely.

                  #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…

                  #271
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    And yet….and yet….it’s so familiar! Bill climbed out of bed, eyes fixed on the stone carved head on top of the tallboy, and went over for a closer look. He reached up and touched the cool smooth stone, and then leaned back against the bedpost, stroking his chin, transfixed.

                    I must be dreaming, he thought, this just doesn’t make sense. And yet…..I’ve seen this before! The images flitted through Bill’s mind, not just this stone head, but other stone heads, all different but all linked somehow, and all so familiar.

                    Bill didn’t hear the soft tapping on the door at first. Bill! psstt, Bill! Open the door, it’s me, India……

                    #269

                    Malvina had been busy opening doors for herself, and thus, for the All.

                    Creating the sabulmantium with Leörmn had revealed new potentials to her. And just before putting the final touch to the device, she had felt engulfed in a huge wave and before she knew it, she was talking with someone. A great creative power, which was stemming from herself, and also from which she stemmed too.

                    It had named itself Naasir.

                    It had revealed to her, in the form of a dark abyss, myriads of unknown potentials waiting for her to leap in faith into them. It had gently requested that she release her hold on the caves openings, so that she could explore more, and also bring more to herself.

                    Then Naasir took the form of a great dragon in that abyss, from which roots were growing and pushing their way, slowly and surely, into the rich soil towards the light of their fullness.

                    She had then seen the dragon’s arched back and tail shift into a chain of spiked rocks, separating the worlds seas in two. Three of the scales on the right of the dragon’s skin were glimmering, and she could see they were looking for a passage.

                    Would she allow that to happen? Yes, she wanted to. Open the doorways, and reunite what was separate, but gently, one at a time.

                    Slowly, the kite-shaped rocky plates on the back of the dragon moved apart, to open a slight, safe passage for the glimmering scales. They were caught in the eddies that surged from the opening, but Malvina’s focus helped them to float and cross safely, as they wanted to.

                    She then came back to herself, seated in front of the glass-shell dragon egg filled with coloured sand, awed with that power she had just felt through her. She knew it was her own power, and that the device had only allowed it to be expressed, but she had felt wary of how the sabulmantium could be used by others.

                    At the same time, Leörmn who was once again the tiny weaszchilla trotting on the wooden table in front of her had laughed squeakingly. And looking at the toy in front of her, she had understood how it could only be used by those who would see beyond the thinly veiled surface. For the uncaring eye, this would only be a toy, mundane and without interest, but for the pure of heart, its help could be harnessed.

                    That’s how she’d knew she did not need it any longer, and could release it.

                    So, the doors had been opened, and people were feeling the new jewels sparkling behind the dark passages. And gifts from friends could now come across the veils.

                    Malvina saw that during the last transmugrification, Leörmn had created an entrance near her laboratory, and it was as if it beckoned her now.

                    When she entered, she saw a guéridon table in the middle of a moistly pungent room. On the table, a polished egg was here. She recognized it at once. It had an azure blue glow to it, and fond memories came back to her.

                    Back then, she was a young Sorceress in training on the Island of Mörk, in the middle of the Icy Lands, the birth and dying place of the dragons.

                    This egg was one from a set of three. It was the first glubolín she’d ever made, along with her two companions. They had kept it to communicate with each other when they parted.

                    Malvina, the youngest of the three, had kept the azure blue, and chose to go to the Dragon Head Peninsula.

                    Oörlaith had kept the mauve, and went near the town of Kapalÿka, on the Snimeÿa River delta bordering the Marshes of Doom.

                    As for Roselÿn, the eldest of the three, she had taken the amber one, and had went as far as anyone would have dared go, flying on her spiked dragon Rëgkvist, past the Great Rift.

                    They had kept in touch, but contacts had been more and more sporadic as each were discovering their own new environments, and had ceased altogether, almost at the same time.

                    As far as she knew, Roselÿn had been starting her own rookery in the sandy ice deserts of Åsgurdy, mostly hiding there from the superstitious people of that land. And Oörlaith, whom she was closest to, had been devising another funny way to keep people away from her rookery. Her own dragon, the playful Andarión, was shape-shifting as a huge shrimp to pretend that the surroundings were haunted.

                    Recalling all these moment, Malvina laughed at how silly they all were, and felt a long to be connecting again with her friends. Would anyone of them be around their own glubolíns?

                    #264
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      India Louise wrapped the big rusty key up in leopard spotted wrapping paper and tied it up with ribbon. She’d been invited to Eugenia’s birthday party, and she was excited. To be truthful, she was looking forward to meeting Oscar just as much as she was looking forward to the jelly and ice cream, trifles, and smarties.

                      Oscar was a parrot, who had appeared one day at Eugenia’s bedroom window. He’d tapped the glass with his beak repeatedly until Eugenia opened the window and let him in.

                      #261

                      In searching for a sheet of paper to do some sketches of images going through his mind, Bill found an old poem he had started a long time ago, when he was feeling like he was completely transforming himself. He had not finished the poem, but had kept it all along…

                      It said:

                      I’ve been wandering through the valleys of death
                      Where time knows no ending and all is gray
                      And shadows seek nothing but oblivion itself
                      In mazes of mist, minds’ errands led astray…

                      Perhaps it was time to let go of useless things, Bill thought to himself.

                      He watched the paper slowly smoldering and shrinking and falling to black and white cinders into the hearth.

                      :fleuron:

                      Before going to sleep that night, Quintin had the sensation of Janice’s presence. He was surprised, because she was no longer the little girl he had seen at times, but she was a very pretty young woman, with dark wavy hair.

                      She had giggled at his surprise, telling him that yes, she was catching up with him…

                      :fleuron:

                      The City, year 2255 (%)

                      Today was Janice’s birthday, but not her birthday as the Ancients, two and half a century from her time, would have counted it. It was counted from the time of the conception, as the future parents in this time were fully aware of the agreements they would have with the soul they would decide to give birth to.

                      It was a reminder of this agreement between the parents and the child that was celebrated, and not the actual birth date.

                      Janice had felt Cyprus’ presence quite strongly, and she decided to let herself open to the subjective communication. She was conversing with her friend Qixi, and sent her some energy to let her know she would probably remove her attention for a few moments, knowing she would be accepting.

                      When she closed her eyes, she could immediately feel herself engulfed by the strong yet smooth energy of Cyprus; it was like being kissed by a swarm of blue sparkling butterflies.

                      Then she opened her eyes.

                      She was in an ancient classroom, with Cyprus focused as a teacher figure. Cyprus was seated behind her desk and came at once to great Janice.

                      — Good morning!
                      — Good morning Cyprus, you wanted to say something to me?
                      — In actuality, you wanted me to tell you something, answered Cyprus with a mysterious smile.
                      — Yes, I thought so. Is it about what I am choosing to do as an activity?
                      — Correct.
                      — You are aware that I want to be creating of worlds, and give them to people that would have commissioned them…
                      — Yes, I am aware. And you wanted me to highlight some misconceptions about that.
                      — Oh, misconceptions?
                      — Yes. As you know, with these worlds that you create, you have infinite potential of explorations. You also know that they are not independent from the rest, even when you take great care of encapsulating them in an energy field. And as such, they are not cut-off from yourself, as soon as you deliver them.
                      — It feels like a tremendous responsibility.
                      — It is, and it is not. The responsibility is to yourself, as always. But, I wanted you to be aware that you hold some responsibility, to examine your own injections into these worlds that you create, so that you can be neutralizing what is not desired, and not merely hiding it deeper inside the world itself.
                      — OK, I will do that…
                      — Ahaha, there is another thing, my dear.
                      — Oooh…
                      — You also wanted me to make sure you understood what I meant.
                      — Ahahaha, I see. Wiggling out won’t be as easy as I thought, Janice said with a smile. So, is it the reason for this classroom?
                      — Nothing is hidden from you, as always.

                      So Janice took a look at the sheet of paper on top of her own school desk.

                      — I’ll be around if you need me, reassured Cyprus.
                      — Thank you, said Janice

                      The paper was like a spot test, with a few questions on it.

                      :fleuron2:

                      Study on a Few Contradictory Beliefs

                      1. GUILT

                      a. An old lord has lost contact with his son, because of harsh things said in the past.

                      Write a short story about him realizing how guilt is not effective, and how past can be changed from the point of present by direct action.

                      b. Detail the main beliefs you can see associated with this action of guilt.

                      2. FEAR

                      a. A man chooses to be disengaging by drowning in a river. During his transition, he faces his fears, helped in that by a friendly spirit. The fears take the forms of a forest of trees, all similar, with branches and malicious roots extending to him. In his previous life, the man thought he was a fool, as an excuse to stand out of the numb crowd. But now he faces this crowd again, only to be able to go on his journey and let go.

                      Write a short paragraph about his journey. Place yourself from the perspective of both him and the friendly spirit guiding him through his fears, and see how he helps himself in realizing he does not need to push the fears away, and that they can disappear easily.

                      b. Detail the beliefs associated with his madness, that he needs to let go of in order to be crossing the forest, and go to the Bridge of Daffoldils that leads to his cave of Self.

                      DUPLICITY

                      In association with the last two examples, detail how duplicity (belief in good versus bad) is influencing of each of the actions, and can be neutralised by accepting self and trusting that you shall not betray yourself.

                      :fleuron:

                      Janice gave her paper to Cyprus, who took it and held it for a moment, evaluating the answers.

                      Cyprus then made it burst into a bluish dancing flame, and when the paper had disappeared, smiled at Janice lovingly.

                      #259

                      Jadra slept fitfully. He was in the forest and he dreamed of a great tidal wave sweeping over him. He was holding on for dear life to the branches of a tree while angry faces swept by him in the water, shouting abuse at him, although he could not make out the words.

                      “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” he shouted back.

                      But then, to his horror he saw his left hand separate from his arm and he could no longer hold on. He saw his hand being swept out to sea and all that mattered was that he find it again. He let to of the safety of the tree and felt himself being pulled by the waves.

                      Jadra awoke trembling and shaking in terror. He looked for his left hand on the end of his arm, where it should be, but he could not see it. He knew what had happened. He had thrown his hand in the river. He thought it was sticks and stones he had thrown in, but he had been mistaken. He knew that now. He had to go and find his hand in the river.

                      Jadra felt such anguish. Not so clever Jadra Iamaman. You stupid old Fool

                      Forgive me! he shouted to the Gods. Whimpering in pain he rushed back the way he had come, back through the forest to the spot where he had last seen his hand. He threw himself into the water and dived down deep, not caring he could not swim, only knowing his hand was in there somewhere.

                      ***

                      There were very few people around that early in the morning, but a small boy saw Jadra go in the water and stood watching. He waited and waited, and when he knew for sure there was something wrong he raised the alarm.

                      ***

                      Jadra felt a great peacefulness sweep over him. He stopped fighting and abandoned himself to the mighty current of the water. A unicorn swam by him in the water and whispered to him she would take him to safely home.

                      ***

                      They pulled Jadra’s body from the water a mile down river.

                      #257

                      When Cuthbert came back to bed after having had his cup of cocoa, India Louise was awake too.

                      — I saw him too, she said to her brother.
                      — I don’t want to see him again, these books are scarey.
                      — It’s intriguing, I want to know more, India Louise said, egging on him.
                      — When I close my eyes, I got all these roots and webs crawling, it’s mad… I can’t…
                      — He has found a friend to help him cross the Dark Forest to the traveling portal.
                      — A friend?
                      — Yes, a friend. She’s special.
                      — Tell me more…
                      — She’s a white unicorn, only him can see her.
                      — Wow…
                      — She’s named Mirÿnda. She’s glowing white, and he hears her speak in his mind, she shows him the way through the forest…

                      :fleuron:

                      — Mirÿnda?! A fool in saffron robe gallivanting in the forest with a unicorn now? That’s all you could find?

                      Tina was taken aback…

                      — Well, I could have used a grizzly bear too, now I think of it… Al answered flippantly.
                      — Tsk tsk, replied Tina a bit annoyed. And why not a humpback whale, or an arctic lemming, or even… why, a leopard gecko for that matter?… And who’s that Mÿrinda anyway?

                      :fleuron:

                      — I don’t know any Amanda, Fiona said to Quintin that night. Don’t really know many of Michaela & Elias’ students. She’s Yann friend, right?

                      Quintin had answered distractedly, as he was engrossed by his last painting…

                      Later that night, he couldn’t find sleep, as the dragon he was painting was still expanding his web of roots and branches in his mind’s eye. He opened his computer to see that Malika was online.

                      She told him something that night, something Quintin found abysmally profound and perplexing about his dragon…

                      Dragons can shape shift, into anything they want to. There are several doorways/portals that they use for travel into this dimension. Malika said
                      — Yes, said Quintin, this drawing has something to do with these portals initially, but I struggle a bit to represent them…
                      Yes, so you can just depict it to be flowing, liquid-like energy in the center, when the portal is active.
                      There are some that are being shone to me on the bottom of the ocean floor.
                      What is being shown to me, is a dragon with a tail much like a mermaid, and hands with webs, big yellow eyes…

                      Wow he had thought, she can really see.

                      :fleuron:

                      Jadra, guided by Mirÿnda, had been moving quite easily through the Dark Forest. Of course, he wouldn’t have dared touch the holy creature, and so he was walking hesitantly behind, taking care of where his bare feet were touching the ground.

                      The Dark Forest was bordering the Marshes of Doom, and at times the limits between the two were almost indiscernible. It was said that every foul, err… fool… damn,…

                      — Will you stop being so buffoonish! raved Tina again.
                      — Perhaps I should let someone else continue then? said Albert.
                      — Well, that’s entertaining, replied Becky mechanically.
                      — OK. I’ll jump in, said Samuel, with a wide grin.

                      It was said that every full moon, the Mighty Shrimp would come from the shores of the Southern Seas and haunt the Marshes in search for souls to be turned into krill, so that he could be the WALRUS (Wrathful Almighty Lord Ruler of Undersea Souls).

                      Well, at least, that’s what Jadra had heard in his youth, when you tend to believe everything… So he was weary of the hiki-hiki sounds in the night that might have been the dreaded call of the Mighty Shrimp.

                      :fleuron:

                      Quintin was having a strange dream. He was a huge whale, along with another one he knew was Yann, swimming powerfully in the vast ocean, passing by strange creatures that could have been mermaids or improbable fishes, when his gaze was attracted by a stream of glittering particles of light.

                      The lights were enticing, he would have said even “mouth-watering”, had he not had the baleens full of water already…

                      :fleuron:

                      Salome was moving through layers of consciousness, something humans focused in physical dimensions would have found difficult to grasp, as it was nothing that could be easily conceptualized. She was, as best as she could put, like a huge cloud of lightness coalescing into a form, when she decided to project her aspect.

                      Taking form into a dimension required no effort in actuality, the consensus reality created by all the essences focused into the reality making quite a strong pull. She only needed to move her attention to what she wanted to manifest. Altering her reality slowly around her, to move closer to the desired effect.

                      She was not only traveling through time and space, but also through multitudinous layers of dimensions unnoticed to many humans —in fact, she was not really moving, but that was a convenient way of telling things for humans…

                      She said “humans”, because she was fond of this particular dimension, where she’d had lots of experiences.

                      When moving through the dimensions, it had her projected focus of attention constantly and naturally adapt its form to the psychological environment.

                      Here, she had just moved through a honey-drops dimension, where focuses were drops of golden honey-like substance, and as she moved through it, her own aspect had changed to that of a sand-glass shaped drop of honey.

                      This was great fun for her to see the ease with which she could focus into this infinite variety of adventures, but for now, her pull was to some more complex physical dimensions.

                      She started to move again, de-focusing, past the lazy honey drops.

                      The honey drops were now shape-shifting to a whole immense field of snake-like strings of light, and they all started to converge to a direction. She knew the feeling. She followed the strong pull.

                      #254
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Bill, the itinerant artist commissioned to paint portraits of the Wrick family, was uneasy. While he’d been staying in the castle with the eccentric family, he’d lost all track of linear time. It had been altogether too confusing, and his head was spinning. Manon the cook had sent a tray up to his room, with a pot of Earl grey tea, and a plate of Yorkshire parkin for his supper, when he’d claimed to be developing a mysterious ailment and begged leave to retire to his room.

                        Bill splashed some malt whiskey into his cup of tea. A good long sleep was what he needed, and with a sigh he drained his cup and climbed into bed, pulling the heavy eiderdown up over his chin. He lay there for awhile staring into space, not really aware of his thoughts. An owl hooted from the oak tree outside his window. Twit whoohooo twit whoo hooooooo…

                        Bill blinked and then frowned. On the top of the Queen Anne highboy facing the end of his bed was a large carved stone face. How odd, he thought, I don’t recall seeing that there before.

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