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  • “Psst|! Glynis!” the muffled voice seemed to be coming from behind the smugwort bushes. With a sigh, she plonked the unappetizing looking casserole on the table, making it look heavier than it was. Sighing again, Glynis made her way out of the open kitchen door with a slow heavy tread. There it was again: “Glynis! Shhh! Over ... · ID #4742 (continued)
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  • #488
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Phew, said Becky, That was close! :yahoo_tongue:

      #487

      Jo was looking at Mc Gaughran. He didn’t like him. Especially since he was so insistant at buying their ranch. It was not the price that was important. Mc Gaughran had offered them much already and Jo was a bit shamefull that he even once considered the offer. They had a little argument about that with Elroy, and he had felt very tore appart opposing his brother. He was very close to him and was admiring him so much.

      And he was feeling very protective toward his sister. She could do whatever she wanted, that was not the point. The point was he didn’t want other to bother her. And that Mc Gaughran was looking at her a bit too insistantly to his taste.

      He finished his whiskey an looked at the barman, Thomas. He was a very good friend of Elroy and him and was like a giant dwarf, stout and big red beard. He knew he could count on him to have a look at the man.

      — Have to go, Tommee, he mumbled. Be back later.

      Despite his disgust of Mc Gaughran, he also had some stuffs to check about the new man in town. He was feeling a bit unseasy as if some things would be unfolded, things that should better stay burried. He left the saloon like a shadow.

      #484

      A swirling motion emerged from nothing in the hatching room. Irtak was feeling a bit dizzy and his link with Heckle and Jeckle flinched a bit. He was in constant communication with them since their hatching and he had felt his thought process merge with theirs… He’d been feeling weird for some time and had seen images of things that had already happen (normal), or things that had not yet happen (a bit weirdo), and things that could have happen or had happened in another timeline, and things that may appear in this timeline or that were related to another… he had had difficulties juggling with that and if he had been alone he thought he would have kill himself or just loose every bit of control he had thought he had… WTM

      He was learning quickly what Malvina already knew and what had been her own path so to speak when she had bonded with Leörmn. Another weird thing is that since his own bonding with the twins, he was feeling their “father” more and was understanding him better. He was connected to him strongly through them. He was then aware of the arrival of “strangers” and was aware also that the man was connected to him. He could not feel the link yet or understand it. He felt different but so similar to himself. And in a way Irtak was associating this dizziness to the man. What was his name again? The Georges?

      The woman he could see through the twins awareness of their father’s awareness was awesome, he felt strongly attracted to her. He couldn’t understand, but was sure they also were connected. His heart was beating faster, as if meeting an old friend he hadn’t seen for so many years.

      Wodd! he thought.

      He was placing the new eggs in the Hatching Room, it was crowded. He had never seen that. So many dragon eggs.

      :recycle:

      Wodd! Another energy surge, like some aspects switching swiftly and smoothly. His perception had shifted again. He felt the reassuring presence of his friends, in the background so to speak, but so close. They knew he had to go through it alone and were just here supportive energies. They were playing and shape-shifting so swiftly, as to facilitate his own movement. At one time they were like a blond girl dancing and a filthy heavy man burping. At another they were like a scrawny horse and a man with a strange hat on his head. At another again, they were just blurred and smelly cherry alcohol… Trying to focus on all those changes was making him dizzier. But he was also feeling the easiness in his own movement if he didn’t oppose the process.

      All the eggs were shining and changing colors, he knew it was their different forms and colors in different timelines and also in different probable lines… He saw for a moment like a big airy fish, translucent and wow so big. It was straddling dimensions and it had a strange shrimpy companion always gravitating around.

      The eggs were all put together, not too close, and not to far away to create some resonance between them… Who would be here for the hatching? Who would bond with them? He was feeling odd as if it will all be taken care of in time.

      — OK! it’s over, now we can join Malvina and welcome our guests.

      He heard himself speaking with so many voices, some young, some older, and some even feminine voices.

      :face-crying:

      The dragons were wearing their blond wig again, like twin dancers… laughing and having so much fun.

      #476

      Ted Marshall swaggered into the saloon and ordered a tequila. He adopted a casual pose against the bar, tipped his pith helmet back with one casual finger, and surveyed the scene. He cast a disninterested glance over the dancers, and tut tutted under his breath when he recognized Twilight. That girl was too big for her scuffed boots!

      A charismatic character caught Ted’s eye, a handsome man in a stylishly crumpled white linen suit, stretched taut against his bulging biceps. Success, drive and determination seemed to exude from his very pores, the slick sheen of raw power.

      Ted edged himself closer to the larger than life character, and glared at the tall lean man who had just walked in.

      #475

      It had been real hard since Momma and Poppa weren’t around no more. Twilight was four when they got shot dead, and she could hardly remember their faces now. Sometimes she had memories come to mind, this real pretty woman, brushing her hair at night. One hundred strokes, she would say, make your hair real pretty. It made her feel sad because she wished it were true.

      Her brother Jo, he was only ten when they got killed. He was the one found them. They’d been shot. Jo, he took it real hard. Sometimes he’d get this far away and sad look and Twilight knew he was remembering. She wanted to hug him, but he’d be all shut off.

      Anyways it was real hard to keep the ranch going after that. Her brother Elroy, he was the oldest. He was fifteen when Momma and Poppa died. So he took on being the man of the house. Sometimes he would try and boss Jo and her round, and Twilight would give him a real hard time. She was just jesting though, she knew he was just doing his best to keep the El Disperso Ranch running and she was real proud of him.

      It was real hard though. Winter had been hard. They all were fearing they might have to sell the blue bull just to keep the wolves from the door next winter. Elroy, he was right pig headed though about that bull. Jo would say to Elroy “we have to sell that bull, Elroy” and Elroy would get mad and say “no ways we selling that bull Jo”. One day they nearly came to blows over that bull.

      It was the only time Twilight seen Elroy get real mad with Jo. They were real close those two. They were all close really. They had to keep together when Momma and Poppa died. Uncle Bart turned up at the news of their folks dying, wanted to take the ranch, but Elroy , well he got Poppa’s rifle and chased Uncle Bart away. Elroy said he would have shot Uncle Bart had he tried any harder to take the ranch. Twilight would look in his eyes when he told the story and she knew he weren’t jesting. A few others tried to interfere also. Somehow they all stayed together and kept the ranch.

      Elroy won that blue bull. It was real rare and very fine and people would pay plenty for a bull like that bull. Elroy said he won it anyhow. He turned up with it one day, and he was real quiet. Twilight saw him whispering to Jo, and Jo looked real concerned. She thought it best not to ask too many questions and so she kept what she seen to herself. But she couldn’t help but be wondering.

      Twilight wanted to help take the load off her brothers so she got herself a job dancing in the saloon in town. She liked to call it performing though. Sounded more high class. She watched the other dancers till she taught herself to do it. She would hide in the saloon and watch them. That was one good thing about not having a Momma and a Poppa. She could pretty well do what she wanted. She liked dancing and she knew she were real good at it and pretty soon she was the dancer everyone wanted to see. She’d rather have a Momma and Poppa though, truth be told.

      One of the other girls, Anna, she was real pretty too, got jealous and tried to get Twilight kicked out, said she was too young to be dancing . Anyhow Anna had a soft spot for Jo and so he soon sweet talked her round. Jo and Elroy were real good looking boys, and plenty of girls liked them so Twilight was pretty lucky to have them look out for her. ( Elroy said she should wear a blond wig for her dancing, like a disguise, and Twilight thought this was real funny. But she wore it anyway.) Anna got pregnant, and she said Jo was the daddy, but everyone in town knew she slept with plenty of fellows, and Jo weren’t having a bar of it. Anna got real fat with the baby and had to stop dancing and now she lived with some old fellow who was always drunk and would eye up Twilight when she was dancing. Sometimes Twilight would tease Jo about the baby and call him “daddio” and he would get real mad with her. But could be his, that’s the truth. Poor little baby but she were glad Jo weren’t stuck with that Anna.

      Twilight knew the men looked at her. She knew what they were thinking and she didn’t mind. She weren’t no fool though. She had plans. She was going to be somebody, not laid up with some damn sprog like that Anna. Some of the money she earned she’d give to Elroy, some of it she put in a tin can she kept hidden.

      Last night some fellow from out of town came in. A sheriff. She heard the girls whispering and giggling about him. Sheriff Ted Marshall was his name. He was real fine looking and all the girls were in a flutter hoping he would look at them. Twilight wondered what he was doing in town. She hoped it were nothing to do with that bull of Elroys.

      #462

      Juan was getting more and more annoyed at his daughter’s boyfriend. A good for nothing who was lazy as a pig.
      Paqui was caring for him, and always finding him excuses. Meanwhile, all that Claudio was able to do was to sit in front of the TV and watch the sports channel.

      More than once, Juan had been close to burst into a fury and throw the parasite out of the house, but Paquita was so enamored with him that he did nothing out of compassion for his daughter.
      If only she could see her own beauty, she wouldn’t stick with such a bum.
      Her acne had started at her puberty, and it was like she used it to hide herself… Many, and crazy Josefina too, God bless her poor wretched soul, thought it was such a good thing that she had found someone to love her despite her face full of pimples, but that was all rubbish.

      The pig was out of town to run in a rallye, and that was providing some respite for them all. God knows where he got the money for these expensive entertainments, petty trafficking, most likely… At least, that had left Paqui some clearance to reacquaint herself with her family and with her cousin Joselito, without being shut up at every turn of the conversation by Claudio…

      #461

      Jose Maria stood sadly in front of the plate glass window. He avoided looking in mirrors, tried to forget his disfiguring scars, but occasionally he caught sight of his reflection in a window, and it always came as a shock. He avoided leaving the finca as much as possible, but had felt obliged to visit his frail and aged mother in the Residencia old folks home. His uncle Juan had come trundling up the dirt track to the farm in his clapped out old Citroen van, with the news that Josefina was expected to die within the week, and Jose Maria had agreed to make the trip into town.

      A pointless trip really, Josefina hadn’t recognized him, had called him Sally at first, and tried to kiss him; and then later she’d shrunk from him in fear, calling him Pierre.

      *****
      Three days later Josefina was dead. Jose was required to make another trip into town, much to his dismay, to the funeral. He stood quietly at the back during the ceremony, next to his cousin Paquita, who was attempting to hide a bad case of acne behind her long black hair. Jose Maria smiled at her kindly, and she smiled gratefully back.

      Paquita and Jose stayed close to each other for the rest of the day, and Paquita’s family invited Jose to spend the night at their apartment in town. Jose hesitated, but when he noticed Paqui’s hopeful expression, he relented and accepted courteously.

      Long after the rest of the family had gone to bed, Jose and Paqui sat on the balcony overlooking the industrial estate and the superstores, in companiable silence. Jose’s scars, and Paquita’s acne no longer visible in the darkness, they had both relaxed, and wondered vaguely why they’d never really noticed each other before.

      Paqui broke the silence. Well, you’ll have no worries now about money, Joselito.

      What do you mean? asked Jose.

      Well, Josefina won the lottery, and you’re her only child, Jose, it will all be yours.

      Jose’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. Lottery? Oh you must be mistaken, my mother doesn’t have any money. WHAT lottery win?

      #460

      Dory’s stopover at Heathrow airport was longer than expected, due to the knock on effect of delays caused by the air traffic controllers strike in Paris. She bought coffee in a paper cup and went and sat in the cramped smoking room. A couple of middle aged overweight women were sitting opposite her, their chubby knees almost touching Dory’s in the unpleasant little nicotine yellow room.

      Dory couldn’t help but listen to their conversation, and had to bite her lip on several occasions to prevent herself interjecting questions. Dory wanted to ask where this Tikfijikoo Island was. There was something about the sound of it that caught her attention, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on the strange feeling it gave her to hear the name.

      The two women, who appeared to be named Shah and Glaw, were apparently on their way to an island to participate in some kind of experimental treatment, Dory gathered, organized by a Dr Bronklehampton. On hearing the name of the doctor, Dory had a series of images flit through her mind. One of them was of an impish looking redhead with an incredibly large head, doing the tango.

      When the two plump ladies left the smoking room, Dory followed them. They bought magazines in the airport shop, and boiled sweets ‘in case their ears went’, and deliberated over sunscreen lotion, and then after some inaudible whispering, in which Dory heard only the words ‘treatment’ and ‘skin’, apparently decided against purchasing any of the skin care products.

      Dory followed them into the public lavatories, and learned that ‘our Mavis’ would be joining them for the treatment, and listened to a great deal of rather unkind comments about ‘our Fred’ and his bullying ways. On the way out of the Ladies Room, the bleached blonde named Shah collided with a bag lady, at which point Dory saw a shower of bright blue sparks in her peripheral vision. The bag lady looked up and laughed at Shah and her friend and said ‘It matters not, my friend….HA! HA! HA!’, and winked at Dory as she shuffled past.

      Dory followed the ladies to the baggage check-in desk. Yukailli Airlines. Dory had never heard of it; new airlines starting up all the time, she thought, and such silly names, like that Be My Baby one…what a daft name for an airline. Dory sauntered past, as she couldn’t really stand behind them without arousing suspicion. She was momentarily swallowed up in a swarm of Italians, there must have been two coachloads of them. By the time they’d passed her, Dory had made a decision. She would book a ticket to Tikfijikoo, hopefully on the same plane as Shah and Glaw.

      She turned around briskly, fleetingly wondering what to say to Dan and Becky about her sudden change of plans, and made her way back to the Yukailli Airlines desk.

      That’s funny, she said out loud, It was right here!

      She scanned the names above the row of desks….British Airways, Monarch, Air France, Qantas…..but no Yukailli Airlines. Dory asked at the Airport Information desk.

      I’m sorry madam, there’s no airline of that name here, the young man behind the desk informed her, looking at her quizzically.

      Dory opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish, and wondered for a moment if she had imagined it. Just then someone bumped into her shoulder, causing her to spin round. It was the bag lady she’d seen earlier in the Ladies room.

      Leaving at Gate 57 and three quarters, the bag lady whispered, and winked conspiratorily.

      Dory’s mouth fell open. She was about to say Oh now really, what is this, Harry Potter Airport? but something stopped her. Instead she asked, But what about tickets and baggage check? But the bag lady had gone.

      #446
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        About time you woke up, came a familiar grumpy voice from behind a pile of logs. Mandrake emerged. And I don’t have fur balls, he added, haughtily.

        Mandrake, thank God! Arona had been a little concerned that , given the amount of time presumably had passed, Mandrake may no longer be with them. Tactfully she kept this to herself, given Mandrake’s especially truculent mood.

        Please tell me what happened now, she said to Vincentius. I think I am ready to hear.

        Vincentius looked uncertain, sighed , but agreed to tell her the tale. Afterwards, Arona was silent for quite some time. She stared thoughtfully at the fire, mesmerised by the dancing flames, gently stroking Mandrakes silky black coat.

        Oh bugger, she said eventually and stood up decisively. I really think I have to go and see that old lizardy croney woman, and without delay.

        I wish you wouldn’t, but I do understand, said Vincentius sadly.

        I don’t understand, said Mandrake crossly, twitching his tail impatiently and narrowing his green eyes

        Arona went over to the sleeping Yikesy and studied him with fond interest. He is not getting any better looking with age is he? She kissed him tenderly on the cheek and whispered in his ear.

        Thank you so much for caring for him, she said to Vincentius and gave him a huge hug.

        On the way out of the cave she ran into Leormn.

        Oh, she said, Vincentius said you allowed us to use the room. Thank you so much. And she kissed Leormn on what she thought would be his cheek, however, a little unsure of Dragon anatomy, it may have been technically a snout or something.

        Arona walked rapidly for several hours, trying to concentrate on the directions given to her by Vincentius and hoping that she was headed in the right direction. Eventually she started to tire and her determination faded. She sat down on a rock and closed her eyes. Her shoulders slumped in weariness and she despondently wished she was back in the cave with the others. She felt deeply sad.

        And is this something you really must face? asked a kindly voice in her head.

        I have no idea really, she answered despairingly. I don’t know. I mean I thought I knew. I thought if I didn’t then I would always be in fear. When I looked into the flames of the fire it all seemed clear. I needed to understand and face it, I thought anyway….

        hmmm, said the voice. Well the best advice I can give you is to trust yourself.

        Arona opened her eyes and saw, to her surprise, a small cottage in the distance. Why, I don’t remember that cottage being there a moment ago, she thought. It looks just as Vincentius described. How remarkable. I was closer than I thought! Her spirits rose.

        Outside the cottage the old crone was bent over, digging in a small vegetable plot. A basket of cabbages sat by her side. She stood up at Arona’s approach, wiping the dirt from her gnarly hands on her apron.

        Hello Arona, she cackled. I have been expecting you. I don’t believe we were properly introduced last time. My name is Lucille. And she held out a hand for Arona to shake.

        I have come to get some answers from you, said Arona, firmly crossing her arms and ignoring the outstretched hand.

        Lucille sighed and dropped her hand. Her pointy chin quivered, and Arona noticed a big wart, with one thick black hair growing out of it, right on the tip of lucille’s chin. She tried not to stare.

        Alright little one, Lucille said soflty. Why don’t you go and wait in the orchard. I will go and fix us a nice, cool drink of lemonade.

        The orchard was full of old fruit trees, their twisted trunks reminded Arona of Lucille herself. From one of the trees hung an old swing. Arona sat on it, holding the rope, and gently rocked herself back and forwards, thinking. She had to admit, she was, quite frankly puzzled. The visit so far wasn’t going as expected.

        She kept rocking, faster now.

        She hit her heels into the hard earth again and again.

        I don’t know. She tried to dig these words into the earth with her heels.

        Then she sidestepped her feet in crab-like movements in diminishing circles. The ropes of the swing twisted tighter and tighter.

        Arona leant backwards and stuck her legs out straight in front of her. The ropes unwound and sent her spinning. weeeeeeeeeeee hoooooooooooooooo!

        She looked up into the sky. Blue sky through the trees with racing spinning clouds. She felt dizzy.

        She stood up and braced herself against the seat of the swing. She held onto the ropes and pushed hard against the seat beneath her. She bent her knees under the swing. She kicked her feet forwards.

        She wanted to go higher. She bent her legs back under the swing. Then kicked them outwards. She stretched her body backwards and arched her back.

        I don’t know, she whispered.

        She sat upright. She bent her legs back under the swing. Then kicked them as hard as she could. She leant her body backwards. She stretched as far as she could. On the rebound her heels hit the ground hard, but still she wanted to keep going higher and higher.

        I DON’T KNOW! she shouted, as loudly as she could.

        :fleuron:

        Lucille returned with the lemonade.

        How do I know if it is safe to drink this? Arona asked. You have cast one spell on me, how am I to know this is not another?

        Lucille cackled. Dear little Arona, she said, if I wanted to cast a spell on you I would have done it before now.

        Okay, well that makes good sense, thought Arona, gratefully drinking the lemonade.

        #1583

        In reply to: Synchronicity

        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Coincidentally, with all the discussions about the disengagement and gloomy feelings, mummies and stuff, I noticed that these days would be Samhain period according to one of the ancient ways of telling its date in one of the interpretations of the Celtic calendar. :yahoo_pumpkin:

          Nowadays the day of the Dead is set on the 1 st of November, but traditionally it depended on the moon cycles as well as the sun (solar/lunar calendar), and its date would most likely change every year.

          :face-glasses: In one of the interpretation that I’ve used to have it appear in my calendar (related by Pline?) this would be a three-day period beginning on the sixth night of the lunar month closest to November 1 st (the date at the mid-point of the autumn equinox / winter solstice period).

          This year (2007) the lunar month closest to this date has begun on 11/11 – so Samhain would be between 16-18 (the first crescent meaning a shift in the energies). :yahoo_yin_yang:

          :weather-clear-night: :recycle: :weather-clear:

          #444
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Dory woke up on the plane with a start. She’d had the strangest dreams, of crowds of people. So many people in her dreams! Mob crowds, lots of mob crowds, and then busy working crowds of people bustling around working on something, some ground plan. Then there was the train lines right next to the sea, and thinking, saying to someone, We have to wait for them at home, it’s on higher ground, and upon seeing how close the train lines were to the sea, saying Oh they will never reach us if that’s the way they’re coming, because the big waves were coming again, and would swallow up the train. In the big wooden house on the hill there was Dan, unwell, mentally unwell, from taking those pills the night before without Dory’s knowledge. Dan’s sister told Dory in the dream, He’s staying here with us, and then Dory lunged at her, clawing at her face. As she left the house, she turned to Dan’s sister and said You realize that I do love you (even though she often hated her). Then there was the tall black man, who was he?
            Dory called to a stewardess for coffee and wished desperately for a cigarette. The man with the eyes that winked at her, who was he? Before she fell asleep, his face popped into her head, and zoomed into crystal clarity, and his eyes blinked or winked at her in mutual recognition. He looked familiar but still she couldn’t place him….dark and swarthy, with peircing eyes….

            #439

            Leörmn the dragon had been retreating silently what felt like a long time ago. For most of the dragons, as they grew in age, needed to occupy more and more of their time in dreaming.
            But dreaming was not an idle occupation as human sometimes were prone to think. He was phenomenally active in the Unseen when he dreamt, and most of the times, he didn’t even have a dream corporeal existence such was the intensity of the activity, that he projected in many many many different ways at the same time.

            At times, he slowly woke up, barely aware of all of what he had done. In one fragment, some other focuses of his friends were in an odd classroom, and were asked whether they had read some transcripts of a trance conversation with a dragon. At the beginning the pupils had felt reluctant to answer, but some bold hands had been raised, and he knew these people, they were closely related to him. The teacher had been telling them how different the energy was, and how intense, for it was not the same kind of consciousness… Of course, Leörmn knew all of that, but it was one of the many things that had occurred during his sleep. Because all of that was a reality, occurring in other frameworks, other dimensions, other scenes, but all of them were happening.
            And in another one, there was this young man who had just changed his name, looking through a sort of big flat glubolin at some parchment map that one of his friend had put in front of his eyes, and the young man was amazed at how close it looked like the map he had seen in his own dream, with rivers outlined…

            Leörmn felt immensely grateful for all of these personality essences exchanging with him, and enhancing and widening his own exploration, and he felt like he wanted to modify once again the cave. He would create some guest rooms into the cave for them, if they wanted to use them. They would be furnished as they wanted to, and reflecting what was their comfort, and dear to them…
            At Malvina’s request, he had already created one abode for Irtak, but now, he would also create one for the finckely Arona, the wandering Sanso, who in turn could invite some of their own guests.

            And so once again, the cave was transmugrified…

            #438
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              I really should do something about this, I think this song may be a curse, thought the astute Arona, as the singing crone took Yikesy from her arms. Yet she found herself unwilling to move, a strange lethargy had overtaken her. Can I move? she wondered. She felt so strange and heavy.

              Slowly Arona turned her head towards Vincentius. Perhaps he had a suggestion as to what she should do. But Vincentius had disappeared. This should be rather perplexing. But oddly it didn’t matter to her. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.

              I am in a dream perhaps? I feel as though I may be in a dream. That’s the answer, I will give in to this sleepy feeling, and then I will be in a dream for sure. When I awaken everything will be alright.

              She lay down on her side on the ground, and pulling her knees up, curled into a little ball and closed her eyes. Laughing with Vincentius seemed such a long time ago. How quickly everything can change, she thought sleepily.

              #424

              — The legend of Mævel — (Part VII)

              Today was the Day of the Forgotten. Mævel had slept well, nestled into the soft and warm depth of her dreams, her head resting on the short blue fur of the fox.
              In sharp contrast with the lovely night, she awoke strangely irritated. Even the birds songs were like noise to her ears, and every sound of the forest she heard with acute intensity and a sense of being submerged by many sensory inputs.
              Hopefully, the blue fox voice was still very comforting, and she started to wonder how they could come across a Forgotten One in need.

              — I think I know where we can find some Forgotten One in need.
              — Where? asked Mævel

              The fox paused, then answered her question:
              — Near your human parents’ home.

              Mævel was surprised. She trusted the fox, and never had really questioned him, because more than that she trusted her own feelings, but now her feelings were telling her that there was something the fox had not told her. Or had told her partially. She was silent, pondering the unseen implications.

              — Mæ, I’ll try my best to answer your questions, but remember I cannot tell you everything. I can help you remember some things, but there are things that my curse does not allow me to reveal. You have to find them by your own, in order to free us…
              — Free us? I thought you were the one Cursed?…
              — Yes I am, and…
              — How do you know my parent’s home? How much do you know about me?
              — I know you since you are a baby actually. And even before…
              — Before? I don’t understand a thing… I feel there are some unseen links, that I cannot decipher, yet they are so close to…
              — You’re right, there are links, links that are important, and that I cannot reveal.
              — Why can’t you reveal them?
              — Let’s go to your human parent’s home…
              — Why do you always say my human parents?

              The fox blew in front of him, creating a wobbling sound into the air in the form of a ring large enough for them to go through it. And he hopped inside, disappearing in mid-air.

              Mævel was perplexed, but did not hesitate. She hopped too into the watery ring in front of her and found herself falling into a void, to reemerge on a bed of dry leaves in front of her parent’s home. Blohmrik the blue fox was seated in front of her, observing a shadowy form at a distance in front of them.

              — Is that the Forgotten One we will help?
              — Yes.
              — Why do you need me? You could help her, couldn’t you?
              — She wouldn’t see me, Forgotten Ones are usually obsessed by a few people, those who they feel can remember them, and don’t usually see other people. Their perception is quite different than ours.
              — Hang on a minute… Why do you think she will see me?

              Mævel looked into the eyes of the fox, and she knew.

              — We are linked.

              It was more an affirmation than a question.
              Mævel wondered who that shadowy figure was. When she focused on her, the form was getting more solid, and she could catch glimpses of how she looked like. And she was surprised. She was about her age, with long blond hair as hers.
              Mævel’s voice was broken:
              — My parents had told me I was about to die when I was a baby, then by a sort of miracle, I became healthy… Was that true?… I mean… Was that a gentle way of telling me that I had a twin who died or…
              — No, Mæ. She is not you. She is not linked to you by blood. You can talk to her, she will listen to you.

              So Mævel went to see the shadowy figure. She had stopped wandering and trying to find an opening around the house, for there were none for spirits: all openings were locked by stripes of red cloth hung onto the doors and windows.
              Mævel felt the pain of the Forgotten One as she approached her.

              — Who are you? she suddenly asked Mævel, raising her head at her approach.
              — I am Mævel.
              — Mævel… It means marvel of Maÿ… I was born in Maÿ…
              — What are you doing here?
              — This is my parents’ home.
              — How is that possible?
              — Twenty one year ago, I was taken away from them, given to Shaint Lejüs in place of a fairy princess. But Shaint Lejüs was no fool, he had sent his apprentice to spy on the fairy king.
              — Blohmrik?!
              — Yes, Blohmrik… But Blohmrik disobeyed the Elder God, and when he saw the exchange that was about to happen, he let it happen. He wanted to protect the fairy princess from his master. Because Shaint Lejüs wanted the princess as a bride. Ahahaha, how disappointed Lejüs was when he saw that I could not perform the most basic magic spells. I was good at nothing, so he let me go wandering into his Realm. He’d just thought the half-fairy princess had inherited no magic from her father.
              — How do you know all that?

              — I told her, the blue fox said. I was hoping to bring her relief. But she started to look for her parents, and Lejüs discovered the truth… Because she was not looking for a fairy king. She was heading here, year after year.
              — That’s the reason of your curse, is it?
              — Yes. She can’t see me because I was Forgotten too, in that form of a blue fox. But as Forgotten Ones don’t forget, I didn’t forget. I couldn’t tell her, because she couldn’t see me.
              — So, I am that fairy princess you are talking about… that strange idea was starting to dawn on Mævel.
              — Yes. When Lejüs discovered who you were, he wasn’t interested in you any longer, because he thought your magical potential had been irremediably damaged by all those years spent in human company.

              — Who are you talking to? the shadowy figure asked, bemused.
              — Blohmrik, he is here. But it’s untrue, Mævel said, there is magic in me.
              — Yes there is, answered the blue fox, and you can undo what has been done with it.

              Mævel remembered the useless key she had manifested when she had tried to go out of her human parents’ house. She had not even looked at it closely.

              — You can manifest it again Mæ, said the fox. It is with you. You are its lock.

              And no sooner had Mævel thought of the big rusted key, than it appeared in her hand again. But this time the rust on it was crackled, and it started to disintegrate, and a brilliant shiny metal started to show beneath it.

              Scratching what was left of the rust, Mævel started to look at the beautiful key, it was shaped as a musical note, and it had some word written on it, in an ancient language she didn’t know how to read. But she knew the sound when she ran her finger on the surface of the word.

              « Araoni »

              That was her. She was remembering, and everything started to change.

              :fleuron2:

              The wedding of the God Blohmrik, son of Mirÿnda, Goddess of Mirth and of Bälias, God of the Sparkles with Araoni, daughter of the Fairy Queen Theÿa and the Fairy King Aldurion was pronounced on a bright day of Maÿ, in a beautiful orchard in the presence of Araoni’s human parents and sisters and brothers.

              Even Lejüs had been invited, even though he would have preferred to be Forgotten…

              :fleuron:

              And so my story ends… said Captain Bone to Tomkin.

              — And was the shadow remembered by her true parents? had asked Tomkin.
              — Oh, yes she was… Of course. She just didn’t want to steal the limelight from Mævel, you see. Her parents were happy of course to find back their true daughter.
              — You didn’t tell me the name of the true daughter, did you?
              — No, I didn’t, said Captain Bone with a wink.

              #423

              New Venice, November 2101

              Midora was sleeping peacefully in her baby’s bed, and Oscar was dozing on the sofa, exhausted by his new role as a mother.

              Bart was slowly finding himself back to his old studies. Just before Oscar became pregnant with their child, he was occupied with an old parchment his mother Indy had given to him.
              She had said they had found it years ago with Oscar’s mum, her friend Eugenia. It was under a glass frame, among many other stuff she had accumulated along the years, mundane bric-a-brac flirting with sublime antiques —such was her mother strange decorative style…
              Bart had known the parchment all his life, and her mother had sworn he would have it when the time would be right. During all this time he had thought she would most probably forget it altogether.

              When Bill, his father had disengaged, two years before (only two months before the New Century’s festivities, at the age of 79) Indy had said she needed to make some room in her apartment, and get rid of old things which were full of memories. After all, she was only 49, and Bill hadn’t wanted to see her wither in sadness, that would be such a waste.
              She had given him the old parchment.

              Bart had always been so close to his mother, probably because she had him so young. She was 16 when they had married with Bill, and Bart was born right after. Of course, she always played the old flattery trick when people said she must be his big sister; it wasn’t actually far from the truth.

              When he was younger, Bart had fearful dreams, of dying in atrocious pain, full of rash, at a young age in an alien and sunny place.
              Curious as to what hint it may have been, Indy had been connecting with him to the energy of the dream. And together, they had tried to find the reason of that manifestation in the young boy’s dreams.
              Despite her having such a fleeting memory, India Louise was skilled at connecting to other focuses, and particularly group ones, and Bart had found many information thanks to her. And the fearful dreams had disappeared.
              He had found he was a young prince heir of the throne of Egypt, who was supposed to marry his sister. But both had died very suddenly. It was not quite clear as to whether the illness was the result of a plot from their father Pharaoh’s enemies, but the death was very unpleasant.
              So unlike Bill’s disengagement, which was peaceful and full of love.

              So yes, people were not far from the truth when they saw them as brother and sister.
              According to Indy, the parchment was found within a cache inside the sister mummy’s sarcophagus, and might be linked to their shared focus. But her own psychic skills only extended as far as to notice connections, not as to go into more depths. That investigation, he would be able to do.

              :fleuron:

              Egypt, 2657 B.C.

              :tile:
              Lekshen had finished writing down what the long snouted god of his dream, Set had dictated to him.

              It was a strange story, of Set being the god of the pariahs, throwing down structures of the Holy and the Truth, for the sake of expansion. Lekshen couldn’t understand all of what he had been talked into writing, but he had felt an intense activity and thrusts of gushing energy passing through him.

              He needed sleep before hiding the text with the mummy.

              :fleuron:

              Paris, 2007

              :tile: That symbol, Quintin had dreamt repeatedly about it… It was a tile, he was sure. It could be oriented in two ways, and, depending on its orientation, it meant either injection or ejection of energy structures. It was linked to the family of the Speakers.

              Let’s insert it again then, he smiled to himself.

              :fleuron:

              When he connected with the symbols written on the parchment, Bartholomew was astounded. The energy was so familiar.
              There was a book coming from his mother. She had inherited it from her aunt, Guiny… She probably got it herself from her mother Margaret, or perhaps her step-mother Becky… Bart wasn’t too sure…

              Finally, he found it. Inside the cover, there was a dedication. To you, dear Becky, happy birthday! With love, Kathy (2017).
              Kathy, Kathy… A flash of a rainbow-coloured anaconda into Bart’s mind… Must have been one of Dory’s friends.

              “There was once a god who was not a god — who was not a god, for you are dealing with legends,” he said, nearly whispering. “There was a god in ancient Egypt, and his name was Seth, and he was disreputable. And he threw aside establishments, whenever other gods rose up and said, “We are the truth, we are pure and we are holy,” this disreputable god stood up, and with a voice like thunder, said: “You are nincompoops!”

              “And the other gods did not like him,” Seth continued in his story-telling whisper, “and whenever they set up their altars, he came like thunder, but playfully, and tossed the altars asunder, and he said “Storms are natural, and good, and a part of the earth, even as placid skies are. Winds are good. Questions are good. Males and females are good. Even gods and demons are good, if you must believe in demons. But, structures are limited!”.

              “And so this god, who was not a god, called Seth, went about kicking apart the structures, and he gathered about him others who kicked apart the structures. And they were themselves, whether they were male or female. Whether they thought of themselves as good or bad, or summer or winter, or as old or as young, they were creators. They were questioners.

              “And whenever another personality set itself up and said, “I am the god before you, and my word is law,” then Seth went about saying, “You are a nincompoop,” and began to kick apart the structures. And so you are yourselves, in your way, all Seths, for you kick apart the structures, and you are the black sheep of the religions, and the black sheep of the scientists, and the black sheep of the physicians, and the black sheep of the your mothers and your fathers, and your sisters and your brothers.

              “And yet, the mothers and the fathers and the sisters and the brothers listen,” Seth went on in that quiet voice in that quiet room. “for they do not have the courage to be the black sheep…”

              Conversations With Seth, Volume 1, Chapter 9, by Susan Watkins

              #416

              1/11/2007

              Finn felt the time had come to call a meeting.

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

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

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

              I want to know if you can help me?

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

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

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

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

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

              This is your decision, said White Feather

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

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

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

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

              Finn cast her mind back.

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

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

              You have created powerfully Finn.

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

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

              What do you know? asked Armelle

              I know how I want to feel.

              :fleuron:

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

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

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

              #408

              Dory will be home in time for The day Of The Dead celebrations at the Meredwen pyramid, Dan! Becky exclaimed excitedly.

              Dan smiled and said, Yeah, I thought she might make it back in time for that.

              It was two years since Dory, the psychic archeologist, had discovered two ancient pyramids in the Andalucian mountains.

              How about we go up there today, Becky, and help with the preparations?

              Oh YES Dan! Becky replied enthusiastically. Then she sat quite still for some moments, with her eyes closed.

              Becky? Dan inquired, You ok?

              She opened her eyes and smiled up at Dan. We’ll have quite a crowd of helpers with us at Meredwen today, she said, I just sent out telepathic invitations to everyone.

              Dan chuckled and shook his head…he didn’t really understand alot of what Dory and Becky said, but it all seemed right somehow, and it was no skin off his nose to be indulgent and supportive. Their tips about ‘creating his own reality’ had certainly come in handy on the golf course and at the poker table. He started to pack a picnic lunch, still smiling at Becky’s enthusiastic response to his suggestion. That’s what he loved most about Dory and Becky, their passionate enthusiasm for just about anything.

              #403

              November, 1 st 2057

              Sean took another glass of scotch to give him some courage to call.

              — It’s your twelfth now, that’s supposed to give you courage
              — Oh, Maggie, my live is such a mess…
              — It’s not, and you know it. Look at all our beautiful children, and Becky who went through so much just out of love for you…

              Sean didn’t know whether he was actually seeing the ghost of his deceased wife, or a projection of her, still alive in another part of the Universe, but she always had been a comforting presence.
              He had started to see her a few months after her disappearance.
              Yes, during that T.R.A.P. expedition, yeah, “live-changing experience” they had said… True, too true… Perhaps the electromagnetic field had messed up with his brains, but now he could see her clear as day.

              That had been a bit freaky in the beginning, and when they made love with Becky, he was a bit anxious to see her appear not invited. But Margaret had been discrete, well mostly. At times, he wondered if she had not sneaked into the bedroom and merged her energies with Becky’s, just to be closer to him… Becky’s acts did not always make sense anyway, so that was hardly a criterion to judge of that.

              All his live had been like that. A jumble of incoherent stuff. Oh, he had enjoyed it, especially at the beginning. His father Lord Wrick was obsessed with the Shift, and had found some ancient knowledge in his youth. Mostly rubbish by nowadays standards, bunches of rotten books of prophecies handed down to a few chosen ones, who were supposed to be forewarned of doom to come. Now, they knew that they were only a wake up call, but at that time, it was another thing altogether.

              Of course, the wealth accumulated over the centuries by the Wrick family had been helpful to access these precious archaeological documents. A few of them had played a key role.
              For instance, the in-extenso Life and Deeds of Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson, a rare version of the diary of Lord Fergusson, annotated by his daughter, Illi, was telling an account of history much different than the one romanced after his death by his wife Floribunda von Grott.
              Thanks to it, Lord Wrick had been able to acquire some inkling as to ancient treasures. Old fool…
              It had killed his wife, Artemisia, devastated by the madness of her husband, and it had alienated the other part of the family too.
              But all that counted was to make the discoveries, and perhaps enlight the masses.

              Sean had never really forgave his father that he wanted to utilise Margaret and have her fit into his plans of grandeur. Of course, his father had willingly accepted the union, and despite all appearances (for the sake of those rapacious journalists) he had even pushed Sean to do it quickly. But all he was really interested in was her precious discoveries.

              — Oh, but I was not innocent, Sean
              — I know Maggie, you were obsessed by what we could offer to you, especially when you read about the botanical experiments in the deserts, which were related in that old book. But still…
              — We all had grown up through that, you know…
              — Yes, and what showed me that, was that I was concerned that the old vampire would suck my own children into his web, but Peregrine was too free for that, and Guinevere preferred to live her live outside of this madness too.
              — Becky had a good influence. Do me a favour, be kind to her.
              — You know what?… Yes of course you’d know,… but let me tell you, so that we can laugh together… I found myself really happy and free when I stole the two magical books out of the Old Fool’s clutch. God knows how he acquired them, but one thing was sure, he was obsessed with them. I couldn’t get the mummy, but the books were a great take.
              — And a funny idea to give them to your cousin…
              — Yes, Dorean was the perfect person. I couldn’t leave them anywhere, my father would have found them again. At least he wasn’t in good terms with his brother and sister-in-law, so they were safe in their care. And at least, they were more grounded than my father, the perfect keepers for the books… I’m wondering what happened to them…
              — That will upset you, but Perry’s twins got them.
              — Oh really?
              — Yes, and they are having fun with them, as was intended.
              — That’s fine then, and we are less obsessed now than we were before, so I guess my father isn’t as much as a pain in the butt as he was…
              — You father meant good
              — Yes, like everyone, but why can’t we leave people alone at times? People can sort out their issues without the commiseration, and the good intentions… It’s poison even worse… Like I can drink and still be healthy, and nice, and…

              Sean started to sob.

              — I know, darling, but you’re as much of a sore as your father was… You focus so much on what’s not going right, and you don’t even appreciate that you can talk with your departed wife… That was nothing as easy in the old days.
              — Do you think my father talks with mum to?
              — I think he would be too proud to admit he is sorry… That may hinder the communication… But Arty wouldn’t bear grudge now. When we let go of the physical, things become so clear, we can only be accepting of everything. Perhaps you prefer to wait for your father to cross over? I can tell you something, that won’t be easier. That much I know.
              — You’re right. It’s just that I don’t know how to start…
              — Be yourself, talk about what you enjoy, where is your passion now… Perhaps that is the problem. You’re drowning your passion in your scotch.
              — You’re right… I’ll tell him Léan will have a baby.
              — Oh, he’ll love it!
              — How time flies… sighed Sean, I still remember the little sweetie as a blue-eyed laughing baby herself, with Oliver and Illana. She was the only one of the triplet to have inherited her mother’s dark complexion. She’s so beautiful…
              — Let’s call your father darling
              — Yes, let’s call him.

              ***

              Lord Wrick had not expected to received that call. Well, he had renounced it so long ago.
              He had been a bit shaken, but also relieved. He had proposed, on an impulse, to invite that whole part of the family he barely knew, Sean’s new partner, and all their children for next Christmas in the castle. Sean had told him they would probably come with Becky but that the children were now having their own lives, and it would have to be for another time.

              ***

              Lord Wrick went to see Bill, who was now painting the portraits of Peregrine and Linda in the veranda.
              He would probably have to stay longer, to paint a lot of new family portraits.

              That probably would come perfectly, as ever, as the Lord could tell India Louise loved to spend time with the painter. Perhaps she would become an artist too… :sumari:

              #393
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                ARONA MEETS THE NANNY

                Dreamily Arona wandered away from the cave, gently holding the sleeping Yikesy close to her heart. Mandrake the cat followed, elegantly attempting to convey the impression he was there by mere chance, and by some stroke of fortune happened to be heading in the same direction.

                Arona had no clear idea where she was going, or what her intentions were even. Still this was nothing new for Arona, who was a bit of an aimless wanderer really herself at heart. She pretended she was looking for magic, but really, she wasn’t so sure anymore what she was looking for.

                Wooha!

                Arona was momentarily rendered speechless by a vison up ahead. The most beautiful creature she had ever seen sat no more than 5 dragon-lengths up ahead.
                .
                Mandrake, she eventually whispered when she had regained her composure, What is this miracle ahead? Is this some maiden’s dream? A heavenly creature come to earth perhaps?

                A miracle sent by God to save you? suggested Mandrake

                His near naked body a masterpiece of bronzed skin pulled taut over rippling muscles.

                Steady on Arona, said Mandrake

                But you know I am no hapless fool Mandrake, to swoon over a handsome stranger.

                No, indeed. And might I enquire why for art we art speaking so oddly? asked Mandrake

                Buggered if I know, answered Arona

                Despite the bravado she managed to display at times, Arona was very shy, and would never have had the confidence to approach such a godlike creature. However at that moment Yikesy started to cry loudly. The god looked up from his silent reverie and smiled.

                Oh a baby, he said in a deep melodic voice. I love babies. He came bounding athletically over and gazed down at Yikesy. My, that is an endearingly ugly baby.

                This is Arona, stuttered Arona, I mean I am Arona, and this is Yikesy, and this is .. Arona looked blankly at Mandrake

                Mandrake looked unhelpfully back at her, with a rather sarcastic little smile on his face.

                I am delighted to meet you. Vincentius at your service. May I hold Arona for a few moments?

                Oh I am sure that could be arranged, snorted Mandrake.

                Arona glared at Mandrake and decided the time had come to pull herself together. I am so sorry for the misunderstanding, she said charmingly to Vincentius. The baby’s name is Yikesy. And certainly you may hold him for a moment.

                Vincentius held Yikesy in his strong arms as though he had been cradling little babies all his life.

                Look this is probably a silly question but you aren’t after a nanny by any chance? Oh no of course you aren’t, said Vincentius, apologetically, seeing the amazed expression on Arona’s face. I am so sorry, just wishful thinking on my part. Please forget I said anything and forgive me for my impudence.

                Well actually, said Arona, frantically attempting to remain calm, I really have no idea how to look after this baby and I did have a bit of an idea a nanny might be quite useful.

                Well this is a fortuitous meeting indeed then!

                But I can’t afford to pay you, she said sadly, unconsciously fiddling with her hair and fluttering her long thick eyelashes.

                Oh don’t worry about that small detail. I am sure we can come to some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement, and Vincentius winked at her.

                Arona drew herself up to her full height, firmly took Yikesy back and said; I will have you know if you are going to wink at me this can’t possibly work. I have no idea what a wink means. You will have to speak clearly if you have something to say to me.

                OH bugger bugger bugger! thought Arona. What is it with me and winking. Now I have blown it. BUGGER.

                But Vincentius just laughed good naturedly, and musically too of course. Perhaps we will just play it by ear then shall we? I am delighted to be your new Nanny :yahoo_big_hug:.

                #392

                — The legend of Mævel — (Part IV)

                Mævel’s mind was made up, she was leaving tonight. She took a few of her belongings in a little bundle, and all very silently, moved to the door, the bundle in one hand, and the key in the other.

                But when she tried to put the key into the lock, she noticed something was wrong. The key was way too big for the small lock. What was the purpose of materializing a big key unfit to the locks that were in front of us? she wondered.
                Perhaps the key will have another use, she said to herself, and she put it into her bundle, and wondered whether she could find another way to get out of the bedroom.

                « Use your magic,… you don’t need to play by the rules » a tiny voice whispered in her ear.
                « What does that mean? » she asked, befuddled, as perhaps her parents where right after all, she was becoming nuts… Well, that might attract squirrels and have them gnaw a hole in that wall, she said giggling to herself.
                « You don’t need draw squirrels,… you can draw a door directly »

                What a strange idea, Mævel thought, drawing a door… It sounded so funny at the moment, that she could feel her heart lift and her spirits as well. What could she use to draw that door… Her gaze ran quickly through the bedroom, looking for a bit of chalk, or charcoal, or whatever else. What a terrible thing that she was so obsessed by dusting, as there wasn’t even a single dust bunny left to draw that door.

                « Now, will you pay attention? »
                « I beg your pardon? »
                « What did I told you? »
                « Mmmm, let me think… Oh! I don’t have to play by the rules… »

                So, in a bout of genius, Mævel ran her finger on the wall, starting from the floor, straight upwards, then to the right, and straight down again, until… well, nothing happened.

                « That wall hasn’t budged any! »
                « Are you sure?… Look closer »

                And Mævel saw that the wall had become like a shiny surface of water, right inside where she had drawn the limits of that imaginary door. And when she pressed her finger, it was simply going through it, as though the surface had just been an illusion.

                With a thank for the helpful voice in her head, she was about to cross the surface, but was stopped in her track by a moment of hesitation. Could she change the destination behind the wall as well?
                Why not, after all, she didn’t have to play by the rules.

                « To the forest! » Mævel ordered intently to the wall before jumping in.

                The voice smiled to her fondly.

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