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  • #1336
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      HAHAHAAHA TP :yahoo_oh_go_on:

      #1308

      In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        September 24 th

        Quintin remembered a snapshot of the notes that Dory had taken during her first trip to the Madagascan caves, a year ago.

        Relevant extracts:

        At one moment, I saw some hooded figure in the sideways tunnels… He vanished on the left, couldn’t follow him…
        […] HE KNEW HIS WAY INSIDE !
        When he vanished, I had the vision of something, […] like the layout of a labyrinth, of cave tunnels — that are all underground and the many entrances are all over the world… PORTALS
        focus opening/doors ; time/space…
        The central cavernous part is some kind of key center, where anyone can meet…

        This has inspired Quintin to write some notes too.
        He has the vision of these portals organized as clusters, like a tree, with branches and leaves… I will send him a more detailed image, but that may take him some time to digest!

        September 26 th

        The latest additions to the story have inspired Quintin. He had some inkling of how “essence” (or what is somewhat referred as “oversoul” ) and all the “focus” of essence (or lifetimes) interplay, and are not as separate as they sometimes seem to be.

        Here would be what we will say to him, if he wants to listen:

        « Now, terminology can become tricky as, for much time, you have been accustomed to be considering of your experience as the projection of that of an “essence”, somewhat separate from you, the lowly focus.
        Of course, you pretend the contrary, and become quite nifty in brandishing sentences like “I am essence, and I create all of my reality”, which you are and do actually, but that you do not always believe and trust.
        These terms of “essence” and “focus” were given to you as means for you to better understand the interplay of consciousness. In the beginning of the acquaintance with these new terminologies, you have felt them remotely blurry and unrelated to previous concepts, which was the intention. But now, you once again objectify your understanding in something too rigid at times, and that little story is giving you a hint of what your real power is.
        And you begin to really experience it, and really pay attention.

        « As was expressed many times, “essence” is no thing. It is an action.
        The “essence” is each of you, that very portion of you that you feel when you slide your attention into the comment box.
        In that, your purpose, you see, is only to experience, nothing more, nothing less.
        And then time, as you know it, becomes irrelevant, you see. Your natural time is expressed through you and your explorations.
        Notice how playfully, as essence (essence playing focus or focus playing essence), you let your natural time unfold, and at times find some strange weather pattern in your awareness that needs clarification. As essence, you playfully find the most perfect habits [shapes and clothings] to wrap around you, and continue your story.
        Just as your dreams at night overlap and blend into each other.
        Just as Rafaela created new focuses [Sam and Becky] to continue to play and make the story expand for all of the other focuses, Dory included.

        « That “I” of you is ever present, and is reflected perfectly in others’ perceptions, as you are drawing them to you purposefully. Do not brush aside their adjuncts, for they are also you, having moved your pawns forward, so to speak, through their moves.

        « Thus understand that the story is a continuous stream reflecting the essence that is you, and your travel through the various guises you borrow.
        In that manner, it does not matter how much sense it makes in linear terms. Because, in a way, it can’t make sense in these linear terms.

        « Let us explain this in other terms.
        When you found difficulties in understanding the “scheme” so to speak, the figure that is drawn by the participants, it is because you apply the linear understanding of what such a scheme should be.
        In that, you only perceive the “plot” as a succession of dots without a continuity, whereas the continuity is to be found in the other stories interwoven.
        You are accustomed to stories where a single individual is enacting throughout the play, in a linear continuous fashion. The individual goes through many different actions, but is always the same in your perception.
        Here, the tricky thing is to notice the continuity throughout the various habits [clothings] taken by the essence(s). It matters not that the essence takes that guise of say, a pirate sailing on high seas, just after having been an old crafty Lord in his windy castle. The underlying aspects of his exploration has been continuous and coherent: in this case, exploring and making sense of one’s exploration. It is just that a certain appearance has been perhaps more fitting to express certain aspects or qualities of essence, but the exploration has been one, throughout the entirety of the experience.

        « We will let you ponder this, and we will continue our own story, writing about you… »

        September 28 th

        This sand symbol that Quintin has brought up seemed to have come from many directions at once. Each character has connected it, in various ways.
        Armelle (Arona) to her magic, Rafaela (Becky) to her collecting customs, etc. etc.

        Let us say that this symbol is not as innocent as it may seem. There are lots of associations with sand.
        It is solid, yet fluid. In association with water, it can be used to build, and also to erode. It can shift into many forms, one of which is your glass, and your electronic components.
        And most of all, it is, after your very oxygen, the most abundant constituent of your reality.
        It is almost limitless in your understanding.
        As is your magic.

        This magical device we made Quintin see in a visualization is an analogy of your very action of creation as essences.
        The sand which molds itself to make forms and shapes in three dimensions is in fact likened to your consciousness. Each grain of sand represents your links of consciousness that bind together to do your command.
        The shapes are moved by your essences, in which you may see that the essence is no thing at all, but is a continuous stream of action, not separate from others’.

        As Quintin said to Fiona, some individuals do differently when they create and shape their sands.
        In analogy with the coloured sands, some people like Quintin enjoy using other people’s colours in shaping his own characters, while some others prefer to keep their own colours, to create a more definite sense of individuality. But they integrate the others’ movements and shapes nonetheless, regardless of how much they perceive it to be coming from them.

        With that said, let us see how much more will appear from that sandbox…

        September 30 th

        The Wrick family tree as it is now (or “will be” drawn around the time of the twins in 2057).

        The Secret Life of Margaret Wrick , a newspaper cut from 2033.

        October 7 th

        The dragon Naasir’s dream
        A panorama illustrating the portals between the worlds created by each of the participants… But who is dreaming, really?

        And an illustration of Chiara’s encounter with the glutton “dreggun” Buckberry

        #80
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Here you will find the picture pool for the story
          Don’t hesitate to join in, and add your submissions…

          NB please don’t use copyrighted material, unless you hold the rights or the permission to reproduce

          #272

          Sanso was finding it hard to stop laughing at Arona’s funny wooping hoots of laughter. He snorted and gasped until his side ached.

          Mandrake? Mandrake! Arona came to her senses. Where has he gone? Mandrake!

          He’s taken that glass sand thing, too! All that laughing had jumbled up Sanso’s memories, and he couldn’t recall the name of that Glass sand thing

          (that glass sand thing, Becky made a note to look it up and correct the script later)

          That creature’s made off with it!

          Oh, bugger off, Sanso, Mandrake wouldn’t do that! Arona spoke sharply, forgetting her manners in her panic. What would a Mandrake want with a glass sand thing? Arona almost stamped in frustration at not remembering the name of that thing, and in front of Sanso, too.

          Sanso didn’t hear her anyway, he was striding purposefully across the cavern towards the waterfall.

          Well wait for me! Arona ran to catch up with him. How do you know he went this way?

          I don’t, Sanso was honest, But when I gets an urge, I gets an urge, and I follows it.

          Arona couldn’t think of a better idea, so she followed him. Slow down, will you! Mandrake! MANDRAKE! Where are you, Mandrake!

          #267

          AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA laughed Arona, and then when Sanso kept snorting she laughed even more.

          Mandrake sighed heavily and retreated to a safe distance to sit it out.

          #265

          After Sanso heard the voice “the reason you are looking for is right under your nose” he thought he had better go and have another look at that smelly, well was it smelly? hmmm perhaps not, just a bit mouldy, old cape. Just in case it was a clue and he had missed it.

          He was surprised and delighted to see Arona, who was still sitting quietly meditating.

          Oh, goodness, said Arona startled, Who are you?

          I am Sanso and some people call me a wretched outcast madman wanderer, and Sanso laughed heartily.

          Arona laughed too, out of politeness and a bit hesitantly, unsure if Sanso was joking or not. Well your words not mine she said

          Sanso laughed heartily again which Arona found a bit odd. My words indeed he said And who are you and what brings you to explore this cave?

          I am Arona, and this is Mandrake. I popped in to find the source of the beautiful music I could hear, but my overall mission is learning about magic.

          Sanso had stopped listening and was gazing at the round glass ball filled with the sand shapes.

          Good Lord! he gasped, Is that a sabulmantium ! And a very early model too. This is a classic! The later models are much more complex, this is very fundamental, but beautifully made.

          Oh really, well it is great fun

          Sanso explained to Arona at length the more technical details of how a sabulmantium worked, and how it could be used like a compass.

          Fascinating she said, and Mandrake rolled his eyes.

          #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.

          #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.

          #255
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Cuthbert woke up with a start, and called for Nanny Gibbon. What a horrible nightmare he was having!

            CURSED HAND, YOU HAVE GIVEN ME NOTHING BUT GRIEF. I WOULD RATHER NOT HAVE A HAND THAN HAVE SUCH A WICKED, EVIL APPENDAGE ATTACHED TO MY BODY.

            Cuthbert trembled and checked his hands. Phew! they looked normal.

            GOOD RIDDANCE HAND. MAY YOU ROT IN THE BOTTOM OF THIS RIVER AND NEVER AGAIN INFLICT YOUR EVIL ON ANY OTHER POOR UNSUSPECTING SOUL.

            Nanny I just had an awful dream! Cuthbert clutched Nanny Gibbon’s dressing gown, and shuddered. There was this madman, Nanny, by a river, and he kept shouting about an evil hand….

            There, there, Bertie, it was only a dream. How about a nice piece of Manon’s Yorkshire parkin and a cup of cocoa?

            #253

            Everywhere Jadra went he could feel hostile eyes upon him. He knew why of course; he knew they were jealous because he had been favoured by the Gods. So he kept his hand safely hidden, wrapped in his shirt

            Jadra had a plan. He put his shirt back on and pulled the sleeve on the left arm down as far as it would go, till his left hand could no longer be seen. He modelled a new hand roughly out of twigs and plants and walked to the river. On the way he shouted at the top of his voice CURSED HAND, YOU HAVE GIVEN ME NOTHING BUT GRIEF. I WOULD RATHER NOT HAVE A HAND THAN HAVE SUCH A WICKED, EVIL APPENDAGE ATTACHED TO MY BODY.

            After shouting such sentiments till his voice was hoarse and he knew he had drawn sufficient attention he threw the hand in the river. He had cunningly weighted the hand with pebbles he had found in a cave so it would sink to the bottom of the river.

            GOOD RIDDANCE HAND. MAY YOU ROT IN THE BOTTOM OF THIS RIVER AND NEVER AGAIN INFLICT YOUR EVIL ON ANY OTHER POOR UNSUSPECTING SOUL.

            HA! He thought, tremendously pleased with himself for executing such a perfectly clever plan. That should throw the evil hounds off the scent of Jadra Iamamad.

            He felt he was not far from the cave now.

            #252
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Becky lay back and closed her eyes, and started to drift. Suddenly she felt a snap on the left side of her neck which seemed to alter her perception. After some moments, she felt as though she was an entire country, or even a whole continent, a huge expanded feeling, weightless and timeless.

              BRRRINNNGGGG! Becky fumbled for the alarm clock. Surely not time to get up already!

              ‘Coastal parking on any of the gardens of the self’. What? ‘Coastal parking on any of the gardens of the self’. Becky wrote it down on a piece of paper, and put it in her Clue Box, wondering what on earth it meant. She was getting used to the strange cryptic clues and riddles appearing, and wondered if they would ever make any kind of sense.

              She made her way downstairs to the kitchen, and the headlines in the Reality Times newspaper on the table caught her eye:

              ‘Mysterious Carved Rock Faces Appear in Yorkshire Villages.’

              #250

              The boy was approaching in a manner he obviously wanted to be threatening, but the little girl was still giggling unafraid.

              He took his most growling voice.

              “Don’t you fear DRRRAAAGONSS?” he blew in her face.

              “Hahaha. What’s Dregguns?” she said with difficulties as if it was her first attempt in pronouncing the thunderous name.

              He took a deep breath as if to answer the question and stopped.

              She was looking at him with such innocence and friendship in her eyes.

              “You really don’t know what dragons are?”

              He drew closer and his gaze changed. And he looked surprised as if he was eventually noticing something important.

              “Oh hoho! I understand now why you seem such an unafraid little girl…”

              “I’m not little, I’m five.” she said grumpily. But she laughed as readily after that :))

              “It appears I’m in the middle of one of your dreams. What’s your name?”

              “I’m Chiara.”

              #249
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                Fiona was feeling a bit weird.

                She was wondering what was real. Was she real? Wow I am starting to sound like Dory she said and then laughed

                Oh my goodness and now I am laughing out loud and talking to myself. Jarrod does that and they put him on medication for it.

                And were her online friends real? I mean what evidence did she have. There were these pebbles of course Yarn said he was sending, but where were they?

                The other day she had been talking to her friends via the internet, and she found herself telling this ridiculous bird story, which basically boiled down to “I saw a bird and a cracked egg shell”

                AHAHAHAHAHA

                Ooops better stop laughing out loud so much. But at the time of seeing the bird it had felt really significant, as though something of importance was being communicated to her.

                And the online story they had all been writing — well was it all of them, or was it really just her writing it? — whatever, it was getting weirder and weirder and quite rude at times too actually. Or was it??? Was that her imagination again?

                And lately she kept winking. Good grief, I never wink, what is all that about? What the does a wink mean anyway?

                Fiona patted her dog George. He was so funny and uncomplicated. All he wanted to do was eat and play and have as much fun as possible… so cool. Actually that is all I want really too, she decided, and felt much better.

                #246

                Huÿgens was not much of a cat person.

                He liked his dogs because they were solid, loyal companions, and he could count on them to take care of his herd of langoats.

                Langoats were a kind of three-eyed manic woolly and horned creatures, with a big sensing tongue, attracted to every new sound, or scent, or colour, or texture… well almost anything new that came before their eyes (when said eyes were not covered by thick layers of wool that is). And as their memory was short too, all kinds of things were always new to them.

                That was why the dogs were extremely useful in channeling their movements; not that the langoats would have hurt themselves, because they were very able to provide for themselves, and jump from the top of a cliff without suffering much injuries. But they could very well loose all notion of their physicality and pop in and out of the fabric of time and space.

                When they came back, because they always did magically come back, even after months of wandering, they would at times be reconfigured into another creature, and that would be pointless applying too much effort in trying to bring them back to their previous form, because it was said, in relation to their stubbornness that once a langoat, always a langoat

                Huÿgens had already lost some, especially during the shearing season.

                And he had found himself back once with a cumbersome hippoliphant, and a bouncy shulimeek instead of two langoats.

                Anyway, langoats wool was a very precious asset, highly sought after, as it could very easily bind with magical spells. Most of the clothes made for royalties were actually made with langoat wool, and it was also said that some enchanters had used langoat wool to make magical tapestries that would shapeshift, and reveal things to their owners.

                So losing a langoat was not small concern for Huÿgens, and he had to be careful during the shearing season to leave some mops of hair to cover the three eyes of the beasts, so as to curb their insatiable thirst for discoveries.

                But these days, Huÿgens had been very concerned about his herding dog Fjutch. Fjutch was a fluffy black dog he had found when it was still a puppy. He had trained it to become the head of his pack of dogs, when he had noticed the old rheumatic Thöm was taking the puppy under its wing —because the old faithful dog was knowing that it would depart and would reconfigure into a new form, but would not allow that to happen, not before he could have found a reliable companionship for his beloved master Huÿgens.

                The healing properties of the langoat milk seemed to had done wonders once again, and Fjutch dis-ease was probably just a false alarm, but it had reminded Huÿgens how much he appreciated his dogs, every one of them, every day he was with them.

                As for the cats… Illi, that was her name, had decided to come back to the cave, and he was showing her the way to the place where he had found her. He had asked BelleDora to pack a few things for her. He could not give Illi the beverage she was referring to as “coffee”, as that plant was not found in their region, but in compensation, he gave her a gourd of langoat milk, because she seemed like she would probably need some.

                When he left her near the hole, he had some tears in his eyes when Illi hugged Fjutch very tenderly, as if the dog was reminding her of something dear. Illi after a moment hesitation, where she was like speaking to herself and not knowing what to do, finally hugged Huÿgens too, thanking him for everything he had done.

                And off she was… free and unfettered as a gripshawk

                ***

                When Illi had finished arguing with Illi about having her hug the big man, while this was not manners of her kind, she sighed as she saw that the opening she had first thought was here (yeah, because I fell in there! she said), her senses where telling her that it was now closed…

                How quaint said Illi for herself.
                — Well, as a matter of fact, it reminds me of something, said Illi F. There was that delicious gentleman, John Lubbock who said “What we see depends mainly on what we look for” and somehow it seems perfect.
                — I don’t know any Grubbeck, grumbled Illi, a bit irritated that the hole, which was there before, wouldn’t be here, now she needed it.
                — Lubbock was such a nice person, said Illi dreamily… Perhaps I could just try to have a peek inside the cave, if you let me.
                — What?! Do again your wizzy wooey thing and I’ll strangle you! Don’t know how I would do it, but I’ll do it!
                — Oh, you are so sluggishly gloomy! That was just to help you…
                — Mmm, sorry for that, I was a bit upset, said Illi. What could you do?
                — Just focus on the inside, and carry us both inside… But actually you would have to leave your body here, and we’ll probably see other things that do not belong to this place, but heck! that should be fun, Illi F said grinning widely.

                They were interrupted by some munching sounds and ruffling heavy breath.

                — What the bejeezus is that?! hissed Illi the cat (who didn’t even know how she knew so funny sounding words as bejeezus)
                — Can’t you see? That’s obviously a dragon eating some bushes… How strange… replied Illi F airily.
                — A WHAT? I HATE DRAGONS!
                — Ahahah, relax, I was just pulling your leg.
                — That’s not funny.
                — Well he has funny colours by the way. Pinkish purple I wouldn’t dare to wear in London streets.
                — That’s REALLY NOT FUNNY!
                — Why so? You can’t see it anyway…
                — And what if he sees me? Dragons are vicious creatures.
                — He’s too busy eating these funny berries, and will probably collapse of exhaustion once he’s full.
                — A chance! A vegetarian dragon!
                — OK. Shall we try to find an entrance in the cave with my method, or do we ask the dragon? He looks well-mannered by the way.
                — Oh, by the eyeballs of the Mighty Shrimp, you tell me…
                — No, you choose.
                — No, you.
                — You…
                — Ooooh, bugger off…

                #238

                Sanso was beginning to feel an urge to move. Waiting under the door in the ceiling in the cave tunnel, just watching India Louise and Illi fade in and out of view, and waiting for Dory and the parrot to return was getting boring. He was a wanderer by nature, and so he wandered off along the tunnel. He didn’t stop to wonder which tunnel to choose when he came to a junction, he just went with whatever one he happened to choose. He didn’t really mind where he ended up, that was the thing. This philosophy had always seemed to work well for him, because he ALWAYS ended up somewhere interesting; somewhere where he couldn’t imagine not being, once he was there, as if it was always the ‘right’ place to be, and at the ‘right’ time to be there.

                The cave tunnel was becoming wider and less cramped. Sanso straightened his back and quickened his pace, and started to sing.

                Hello Dolly, oh helloooo Dolly, do de dooo de do do dodedodedooooo……. chuckling to himself and wondering where on earth did THAT come from….. Oh helloooooo Dolly……

                and walked right into a coatstand, of all things, getting splodged in the face with a rather smelly wet blue cape. The coatstand teetered and Sanso grabbed it to stop it falling over. There was a note pinned onto it:

                Watch my shifting, Tell the time; Shape me wet, and Lose me dry; Colour me pink and grey and gold, and Find the secrets that I hold, What am I?

                Sanso didn’t hesitate for a single moment. SAND!

                Sanso grinned with delight at guessing the riddle so quickly, and then laughed out loud. How clever am I, he said, I guessed the answer to my own riddle! Still chortling, Sanso gave the wet cape a fond pat and set off again.

                The tunnel was widening and eventually broadened into a cavern. Bright sparkling shafts of sunlight were beaming down from several holes in the cavern roof.

                Sanso blinked a few times and squinted until his eyes became accustomed to the light. The cavern was huge, and everywhere he looked were paintings and markings on the walls, even the places impossible to reach. Some were creatures, some were symbols, in black and red and yellow and orange.

                Sanso was entranced. He sank down to a sitting position, and then stretched out flat on his back, gazing at the markings on the walls. He stretched his arms out, filling his palms with sand and then letting it go, and trailing his fingers through the sand…sand…..

                Sand! I may have got the riddle, thought Sanso, but I didn’t get the POINT of the riddle being there in the first place!

                HHMM, I’m not so clever after all……

                #237
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Magic is easy peasy
                  My hand is sore
                  This poem is rubbish
                  So I won’t say any more

                  Well we must thank the Gods for small mercies said Mandrake, sighing heavily. Arona laughed. Her mood felt so light again, as though something had really, really, REALLY fallen into place for her.

                  Up ahead the tunnel widened. Arona gave a small gasp as she saw what appeared to be a coatstand with a black cape standing in the middle of the path.

                  My Cloak, she cried, astonished, and feeling sure that the crafty dragon was behind its unexpected appearance. Hmmm, what a mouldy old thing, she thought, as though seeing it for the first time.

                  There was a note pinned to the cape:

                  I build up castles. I tear down mountains. I make some men blind, I help others to see. What am I?

                  Arona hesitated only for a moment. Sand! She said, delighted with herself.

                  #236
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    Arona hummed happily to herself. She felt so light without the cape and the tunnel was bathed in the gentle light of many glukenitches. Mandrake the cat followed along too, much to Arona’s delight, although she was a little hesitant to tell this to the grumpy cat

                    Magic magic magic magic she hummed to herself

                    Arona almost skipped along the tunnel, and, so wrapped up was she in thoughts of magic, that she tripped and fell heavily, hurting her left hand as she put it out to save herself

                    Ouch, hells bells and warty wizards, she muttered, for it did hurt quite considerably… and then she had some scarey thoughts. She looked around and realised that really, the fact of the matter was, undeniably, that she was still lost in the darkish tunnel.

                    What if I don’t believe in magic? and her happy mood plummeted.

                    Oh fuch, she swore, and sat down on the cave floor. FUCH FUCH FUCH FUCH she shouted as loud as she possibly could, and in fact hurt her throat a little in the process and quite possibly the sensitive ears of many glukenitches.

                    This blessed cave is doing my head in. I want to see the sunshine, or the rain, no matter, I don’t care what the weather is doing I JUST WANT TO BE OUT OF THIS CAVE.

                    Ooops that was rather loud

                    After coaxing Mandrake back, as he had retreated quite some distance at her outburst, she sat down and put her head in her hands and tried to think. Did she believe in magic? Well of course she had no choice. Life without magic was inconceivable to her.

                    She felt a familiar tiredness sweep over her as she struggled to work it out. Perhaps I will just have a small sleep before I continue, and she curled up on the ground, wishing she had her heavy black cape to wrap around her.

                    As she gave up the struggle and let sleep come she heard some soft words

                    It’s easy Arona … magic is easy … it is the thread linking all to all

                    ************

                    A short while later she woke from her sleep, feeling refreshed and ready to continue.

                    #233

                    Dory was secretly delighted Georges had drugged the coleslaw, despite appearing to be angry. She loved the way different things altered her perception, and even though she knew how to alter her perception without using a drug now, she also knew she was creating the drug and its effects, and that it didn’t much matter whether she did or she didn’t.

                    (Becky wondered if that principle applied to pain relieving drugs too, and decided that indeed it must. She wondered though if she really really believed it enough to trust herself to create pain relief WITHOUT actually swallowing a little ball of physical matter)

                    Dory was reluctant to admit it at first, but she’d also known all along that she’d created Georges appearing out of nowhere like that, and that she had in fact invited him. Sometimes it seemed easier to forget that and just grumble, which of course was acceptable too. Grumbling was fun sometimes, but it got awfully boring if she carried it on for too long.

                    The coleslaw was delicious.

                    Have some more, offered Geroges

                    (Becky made a note to change Georges name to Geroges. It was no accident that she kept typing it like that, and she was beginning to think correcting it all the time was futile, and that she was somehow missing the clue)

                    Dory munched the crunchy coleslaw.

                    (Without a moments appreciation for her lovely strong full set of teeth, Becky noticed)

                    Dory unexpectedly felt a moment of appreciation for her teeth. Wow, she thought, I never even think about that, but teeth are cool. She shuddered when she remembered an awful dentist dream she’d recently had.

                    Dory looked up at Geroges and smiled.

                    Got any chocolate?

                    #231

                    HAHAHA! it is your first step now. Let me just remind you that you need not play MY game, the game is yours, ever.” said Georges.

                    Dory was feeling a bit confused now. What was he talking about, what game? And first step to what? She couldn’t hold to the anger nor the irritation; all of that was feeling not real or not here, or not there for all she knew.

                    “The direction you follow is your choice, and where I come from is not relevant to this conversation. You may say I come from yourself :) and indeed you called me and I wanted company. Do you want more coleslaw?”

                    Without waiting for her answer he refilled her plate with the tasty food.

                    All those smells,… she could feel so many different things, things that appeared not to be here. A movement caught her attention in her periphery. As she turned her gaze whatever was there had vanished. And this humming, it was like music, but not very clear… if she could just focus more on it, yes like that, she was feeling sooo calm and she began laughing.

                    “Hahahah… haha. Did you drug the coleslaw?” She asked, trying to appear angry and unhappy, but all she could do was smile and laugh.

                    The images around her were shape-shifting, there were many colors, some of them she didn’t know could be possible, the walls were melting of sort and becoming transparent, or just fluid maybe…

                    “Well you see how it’s easy to relax. Let’s see where you want to go now my dear Rafaela”, he said winking.

                    And everything turned into a great maelström but she felt secure and could feel his presence reassuring, and there were all those other faces and places, some felt very familiar, had she ever been there before?

                    #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

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