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  • #768

    Bea! Come and look at this! Blimey O’RILEY, I ‘ave NEVER seen anything like this is me life!

    What’s up, Leo? Bea rushed over, rather unsteadily, slopping some gin down her clothes from the ever present glass clutched in her hand. Bloody ‘ell, Leo, what’re you doing looking at them crystal skulls again?

    It’s not the bloody skulls Bea, it’s all these rhino beetles ! There’s a blimmen HERD of them in this trunk! All over the skulls!

    Yeuch! exclaimed Beatrice, who was not particularly fond of insects. Better get the fly spray, hang on, I’ll fetch it.

    YOU CAN’T DO THAT! shreiked Leo. They’re symbolic!

    Symbolic of bloody WHAT?

    Well, I ‘int worked it out yet, ‘ave I? But you mark my words, they’re symbolic!

    Bea rolled her eyes, remembering the ‘symbolic ants’ she’d been obliged to endure all over the kitchen. Leo was losing touch with reality, Bea reckoned.

    Symbolic they may very well be, however, I am NOT having them in my bed, she said firmly. What are we going to do?

    Google it? suggested Leonora.

    Good idea. I’ll google it; now you make sure those bloody things stay in the trunk, eh. If any of them escape and head for the beds, call me!

    #1724

    In reply to: Synchronicity

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      These are quite interesting… The retelling story feels particularly fit, especially considering The Story so Far threads :face-grin:
      I also wasn’t aware of the CK(Conductive Keratoplasty) corrective eye surgery with sounds rather than laser methods… :-?

      But I didn’t come for that, actually. ;))
      I was browsing something totally unrelated, and found a news about the plot of Toy Story 3 revealed by the Wall Street Journal (ref). Something got my attention obviously, when I saw Circle 7 a division of Disney who worked on the previous Toy Story movies before acquisition of Pixar…

      #761

      So then, said Franiel sitting down beside a small mound of earth, what now?

      The top of the mound of earth was smoothed flat, and with a twig Franiel began to form small spiral patterns abstractedly in the earth. He felt no desire to go back to the monastery and face Aum Geog with the news of the loss.

      He held the twig high, and then released it to fall to the ground. It fell without sound, landed unharmed on the mound of earth. He closed his eyes and in the dark at the back of his mind, he heard the voice of his grandmother whisper; Spirals make more sense than crosses Franiel my boy, joys more than sorrows.

      Spirals make more sense than crosses….

      None of it made much sense to Franiel. The feeling of freedom he felt momentarily slipped away. He was left looking at the space where it had been, feeling empty. The task given him by Aum Geog had given him a feeling of purpose, for a short time had allowed him to forget how lost he felt. Yet now the task had been taken from him, and he was in no hurry to retrieve it, he saw it for the illusion it had been.

      What would it feel like to want to go somewhere? Or to want to be something, to want to be a monk, to want to be a teacher, to want to be the father of a family? To be able to arrange oneself neatly in a box and say I belong here?

      Spirals make more sense than crosses …. day becomes night becomes day, lives come into being, and go out of being … there is always new life coming into being …… around and around

      He began to walk along the path, away from where he had already been …. towards something new? He caught sight of a dead blackbird lying in the long grass to the side of the track and knelt down to look at it.

      It is quiet and still.

      He dug a hole, scraping in the dirt with his fingers and then using a stone to lever the lifeless body into the hole. The bird’s brown eyes are still open. Franiel covered it with dirt, looking deep into it’s eyes, until there is no sign of it, just a mound of earth.

      He traced a spiral in the dirt.

      Joys more than sorrows…

      He sat back on his heels, and keeping his mind empty, he sang to the dead bird.

      #755

      — “Sha! I think I’ve had one of them bloody brainwaves of mine!”

      — “You are the smart one Glor … ‘ang on, I’ll just light my fag then I can listen proper.”

      — “Well you know how Vessie has been so good to us and I still feel a bit awful about breaking that bloody door down.”

      — “We meant well though Glor. Our hearts were in the right places.”

      — “They were Sha … but then her bloke being there and all …. well that dress she was wearing Sha, it barely covered her privates.”

      — “She’s a native girl though Glor,” Sharon giggled, “She’d have grown up wearing them little grass skirts and not much else I reckon …. mind she’s ever so nice though ain’t she.”

      — “Oh she is …. and there’s nowhere to buy clothes on this bloody island neither, she must have to make do, bless ‘er little ‘eart.”

      — “It could do with a mall I reckon Glor,” said Sharon reflectively, “this place would really take off if there was a small mall.”

      — “I think you’re onto something there Sha, oh that would be bloody marvellous I reckon, a small mall.”

      — “Anyway what’s your brainwave then Sha? I’m all agog with curiousness.”

      — “Well I reckon with all the eating and lying around we’ve been doing I’ve gained a bit…. what do you reckon Sha?”

      — “You might have done a bit Glor,” said Sharon eyeing her friend thoughtfully, “you can carry a bit extra though, and it goes to all the right places on you, you look right sexy, I reckon our Harry would think so anyway”

      — “Oh give over Sha! “ Gloria blushed and giggled. “Anyway back to my brainwave … well that Vessie is quite slim … “

      — “A bit on the skinny side really, Glor, needs a bit of meat on them bones of ‘ers to be what you would call proper sexy like us, and very tall with it ain’t she.”

      — “Yes athletical, most of them island girls are I reckon. Anyway, listen up Sha, a few of my things ain’t been fitting so well and …and ‘ere’s my master plan Sha …Da da ….” she paused dramatically, “I thought I could hunt out something nice for Vessie!”

      — “Oh that’s bloody genius Glor! you’ve got a real kind heart you ‘ave! You’re a bloody saint even … did you ‘ave something special in mind?”

      — “Did I what Sha!” Gloria’s eyes were shining with delight at her own generosity. “You remember that pink frock, the one I wore when you and Harry got ‘itched, with the wee roses on it. Well I bought it with me! I thought you daft fool! when I packed it, what you taking that bloody thing for? … I reckon it was my psychic abilities I got ‘anded down from my Aunty Philly, God rest her soul, made me bring it.”

      — “Oh you’ve still got that frock! That were bloody gorgeous …. well bless your bloody heart Glor!”

      — “Well its got sentimentical value of course,” said Glor looking serious. Her voice lowered, “ Between you and me though Sha, I do feel for that poor girl. I mean she’s pretty enough .. but she’s got no bloody idea how to make the best of what she’s got. It’d be a bit on the short side mind …. but I don’t think she’d mind that, not if that last dress is anything to go by, and I’m right handy with the needle and thread if it needs any fixing” she paused for a moment thinking, “Sha! I think I’ve ‘ad another bloody brainwave! We could give her a full beauty makeover, the bloody works, with all our beauty know-how … that lippy she was wearing ..” her voice trailed off and she shook her head sadly.

      — “Wrong shade of red weren’t it,” Sharon nodded understandingly. “She’s going to have to make a bit more effort if she’s to keep that bloke of hers.”

      — “Well I’ll ‘ave him any day,” giggled Gloria

      — “Oh you’re bloody wicked, you are Glor! If your Joe could ‘ear you now! …. ‘ere you’ll ‘ave to fight me for ‘im though! … ere,” she said looking around and lowering her voice conspiratorily, “maybe we could have one of them threesomes!”

      — “Oh stop Sha, you’re too bloody much you are!” spluttered Gloria, barely able to control her mirth. “Serious now though Sha, that Vessie might be a bit overcome and shy like, with all our generousness and kindheartedness, we have to make sure she knows we ain’t taking NO for a bloody answer!”

      #751

      Why you supercilious little prout! said the Mummy

      Steady on Sasha, I don’t think I deserve that. I am a great believer in personal choice. You chose to be part of my experiments didn’t you? Did anyone force you to come here? His voice started to raise petulently. Are you a victim Sasha? Just because one small thing went wrong, an accident, no more and no less.

      If it wasn’t for these damn bandages I would laugh.

      Dr Bronkelhampton threw his hands in the air in vexation. Try and see the big picture Sasha dear. How many times have I told you now? My God we have been through this over and over again. Are you listening Sasha? All you can think about is yourself and your own petty little life. You are dead, you need to accept this and move on.

      Silence.

      Sasha? … Talk to me Sasha dear one.

      Dr Bronkelhampton? Nurse Bellamy tapped lightly on the office door, and entered cautiously. She could hear Chris talking to himself, again. It was nothing new, he spent hours closeted in his office lately. Though today she started in shocked surprise when she saw him, the yellow wig from the early days of the clinic was perched precariously on top of his bald head, garish make-up roughly applied, yet not hiding the dark blue circles under his blood-shot eyes.

      He glared at her. Can you not see I am with a client, Nurse Bellamy?

      She cast her eyes reflexively around the small office, although she did not need to look. It was bare save for a pot plant and that dreadful mummy propped up in the corner of the room.

      I am worried about you, Chris.

      He slammed his fist on the desk and turned away from her, staring moodily out the window.

      Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened with emotion, she struggled to hold back her tears as all the anxiety of the last week threatened to overwhelm her. She reminded herself of the words of her dear nursing tutor Edwardo Lemenox. Always remember your calling as a nurse. When the road seems difficult, take a deep breath and remind yourself you are perfect.

      She took a deep breath.

      I am sorry, I mean Dr Bronkelhampton … I need to inform you that three new clients are expected tomorrow …. and we have two here waiting for their treatment to start … and I can’t entertain them for much longer, they are getting restless. Veranassessee is up to no good, and, Nurse Bellamy pursed her lips for a moment in annoyance .. and now she has a gentleman friend here.

      Dr Bronkelhampton turned towards her quickly, the wig falling off in the process, She has a gentleman friend? Here on the island? Who?

      Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened even more as she remembered her encounter with the drop-dead gorgeous stranger, the way he had looked into her eyes as he asked where he might find Veranassessee, goodness, she had nearly dropped her coconuts.

      #750
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        I take it from that you don’t know where the wedding dress is currently. Well if you do come across it would you mind letting Felicity know. said Tina haughtily, switching the phone off abruptly.

        Al’s words running through her head she started walking quickly nowhere in particular.

        Tina, what’s the point of these experiments we have been doing with Becky and Sam if you are going to keep relying on the phone all the time? And why are you trying to sort out the dress for Felicity, it isn’t your problem.

        It wasn’t the so much the words which had stung, after all he was right, it was the annoyance she thought she had heard in his voice.

        She felt him making contact, quickly blocked, feeling too hurt to be open.

        She knew he was tired, god knows he had put so much into the wedding preparations, as he did with all his projects. He was fast building a reputation for his ground breaking experiments with body processes. Tina loved Al whatever he looked like, which was just as well really considering some of the rather bizarre effects he managed to produce.

        Becky had been a bit irritated with her as well, Tina you are so last decade, nay century even! she would say, rolling her large eyes dramatically. Becky too was racing confidently and exuberantly ahead. Her intriguing contributions to the reality play never failed to amaze Tina. Her own contributions felt stolid, words trapped in a big gluggy ball of last century energy, she had to work hard to extricate each one.

        It was nearly dark, raining harder now, wind-driven rain. Tina liked it, the rain complemented her mood and disguised the self-pitying tears streaming down her face. There were very few people in the street. Just the long line of shop windows, glass faces warmly lit, overhangs offering some shelter from the rain, though it wasn’t shelter Tina was looking for.

        Her long hair whipped around her face, wet blue satin clung to her slim frame.

        Sam had taken off unexpectedly and suddenly to Australia. He had been gone only a few days and she missed him. Dear Sam, his wicked and irrepressible sense of humour could make her laugh even in the blackest of moods. He too was playing with new potentials, forging new and exciting paths.

        The others are probably all communicating with their advanced telepathic skills right now, laughing at dumb old last century Tina, she thought morosely. In fact even last century I would have been so last century, judging by my spectacular lack of success at anything I have undertaken recently. A vision of her recent humiliation in the ballet dancing class sprang to mind. She winced and quickly blocked the distressing image of the dance teacher drawing her aside after class and gently suggesting she might try the Ancient Kuzhebar Motional Practices beginner’s class, to get some basic rhythm, before attempting the ballet. ….

        An elderly woman who had disembarked at the nearby gondola stop splashed by her, and, illuminated momentarily by the street lamp, Tina felt a flash of recognition. The woman turned suddenly towards her, smiled, gesticulated with her free hand, the other was clutching a large bag, towards some distant bushes. She mouthed some words at Tina, but these were lost in the wind. Tina waved and managed a reciprocal smile.

        She noticed a Positivity Robot parked in front of Samantha Lingerie, and found herself drawn towards it, 3D images of models wearing the latest in underwear fashions rotated in the shop’s window, their faces beaming irritatingly at her. These Positivity Robots had been all the rage in the early 2020’s, you did not see as many of them now. On impulse she stood in front of the robot, touched the screen, allowing it to read her energy. “negative 21” its glass face discreetly informed her. The words “I AM PERFECT flashed up on the screen as a suggested thought pattern to implement. Tina grimaced. I wonder how low I can make this damn thing go. The idea made her giggle and to her alarm shot the meter up to a positive 12. Bugger, a bad start!

        What am I going to do with myself, Mr PR, if you are so positively smart?

        I AM PERFECT…. I AM PERFECT …. I AM PERFECT ….

        perfectly grumpy, perfectly insecure, perfectly last decade, perfectly soaked to the skin, Tina watched as the meter climbed all the way up to 55.

        She glanced at the shop window, just as a smiling model wearing a minuscule open net dress and nun’s habit rotated by. She felt an inexplicable burst of amusement as the meter climbed to 57.

        #747

        What a francitic woman thought Elizabeth, a bit less distressed now she had secured her last insights into her clooh-box.
        Hopefully, she could happily forget about those, and go for a walk to have some welcomed cooffee.

        Wishing she would not bounce into some unwelcome apparition, she trod her way to the outside world.
        How long it had been? With all that pressure from her publisher, she had almost forgotten how exquisite it all was outside.
        So simple, and yet so brilliant.

        It didn’t have the complexity of the Worlds of which she intuited things, nor the same amount of excitement it aroused in her, but nonetheless it was appeasing, and that was perhaps all she needed for the moment.
        Perhaps a walk to Garden Centrool would do her great.

        :fleuron:

        Sitting on a bench near the dribbling foontain where cuckoos were drinking at the sound of woodpeckers’ holes drilling, she became entranced by the sound of water, and almost felt like dancing at the cuckoos and woodpecker’s cooing and drumming beats…
        All this Lemone quotes were now far away… She’d had enough of them, and wanted simpler truths. Lively ones.

        She could feel inspiration flow back into herself, as she envisioned her favorite depiction of inspiration, the mangeloose Pigoosus. Elizabeth was reeling in its wonderful aura, seeing the squinting eyes of the creature, the magnificence of its sprawled wings, its awe-inspiring moose antlers, and the slick body of a foxy mongoose with a protuberant snoot.

        It all was symbolic of herself of course, the best depiction of all her awesome features. The snoot for curiosity (and nose in general), the wings for imagination, the antlers for connection, and the mongoose for the fearlessness and sex-appeal.

        Pigoosus, or Pigooh, as she called him, was telling him tales, tales that were spun between the gapping holes of her clooh-box items, and that were weaving them together in beautiful macramooh patterns.

        The Shift in Earth-dimension awareness is coming and it is revealing long-lost hidden things, that is the reason of these other-dimensional bleed-through on the islands. Where those having hoped to bury some artifacts away of consciousness, in that dimension where all was so separated that even Pigooh would have had trouble getting throoh. The skulls gates one by one open now.

        Pen! She needed a pen!

        #745

        Arona, my dear?

        The silky voice of Malvina resounded in Arona’s ear, while she was meditating on the implications of the story Vincentius had told her.

        — Yes?
        — May I borrow you Buckberry and your sabulmantium for a few moments?
        — Oh sure, no need to ask… Though I don’t think you require my permission for Buckberry, isn’t he free as I am?
        — Oh yes he is, exactly as you said, free as you are

        Arona could have sworn she felt a winking energy rippling through her flesh, making some unfamiliar electrical currents crawl underneath her skin. She would have said she was thoroughly disliking it, though she wasn’t really sure if she was.

        — Oh, Malvina added as if an innocent afterthought, we are moving by the way, perhaps you may find interesting to join us for the homationing ceremony. You may learn some more about your sabulmantium.
        — Well, why not, answered Arona having no idea of what a homationing ceremony could be…
        — Very well, please join us in the main entrance, where I am playing the harp. We will be waiting for you.
        — I’ll be there in a second.

        So, they were moving? Speak about implications… Arona muttered, stroking dozing Mandrake, who had feasted on too many of the moorats crawling inside the moisteous cave tunnels.
        I guess I’ll take this astounding elan as a hint that I’ll be going alone she said. A yawn for all answer.
        Considering it was Mandrake, that was almost a mark of distinctive affection… or was it rather of affectionate distinction?

        Moving? She didn’t want to move, not yet, not like that… And to be honest, with all the stuff in that cave, she sure didn’t want to help pack all of this, be it by magic. What an impossible task.

        Vincentius the nanny was taking care of Yikes, so she was confident should anything happen, he would be alright.

        :fleuron:

        On the outside of the cave, the dragons were all lined up, as if waiting for some unknown signal. Leormn first in shades of teal, and his spawns, Buckberry, with the most florid and baroque hues of purple that one could imagine, and the two facetious Heckle and Jeckle in shades of emerald, looking unusually calm.

        Malvina, with Leo the little marmoset on her left shoulder, was playing her harp, while Irtak was accompanying her playing a mouth harp.
        Some drums had been disposed around, and quite naturally, Arona felt like beating the measure on these, getting slowly and slowly relaxed by the music and guttural sounds produced by the throat singing dragons.
        She almost laughed and broke the meditating pattern when she let the memory of Sanso come into her awareness. What a shame he’d missed that, that would have fitted him better than her.

        Slowly the sounds stopped, and Malvina very gracefully rose from her stool, and greeted Arona with a loving hug. Her flowing robe was a tender orchid hue with laces of thistle pink, and her silvery peach long flowing hair were giving her the aura of a princess.

        — Wait, where are Georges and Salome? She said, are they already gone?
        — No, they are waiting for us at the new location, she said with a smile… Now, Leormn will start the ceremony.

        Arona almost said Wait again, in anticipation of what was to come, and finally decided to let it flow. The serene look of Malvina and her motherly smile was of a nurturing reassurance.

        Outside, in the grassy lands, the dragons had all grown wings and were apparently ready to take off. A pile of conic shaped dirty sand was standing in front of the entrance, that Arona had never seen before.

        She could feel Buckberry answer her unspoken question without even a word being uttered. It is soil from the cave, and we will use it now.

        Arona watched the dragons rise in the sky full of damp gray clouds, and wondered what they were doing.
        They are doing two things, Arona answered Malvina (again that disagreeable habit of reading thoughts, couldn’t help but think Arona, wishing there would be some World around where such thing wouldn’t be so easy), first they are checking what kind of creature are staying with us and following the movement, continued Malvina, ignoring the remark, and second, they are drawing with that sand from the cave a circle to enclose the area we want to move

        Arona didn’t dare say the explanations were making her even fuzzier, so she nodded as if abreast of what was going on.

        Popping sounds of the dragons blinking in and out to get some more dirt almost made her dizzy, and she forgot the strangest feeling she had when she thought she heard “the area we want to move”.

        — Now, continued Mavina, the sabulmantium.

        The dragons were now all back, and the pile of sand had disappeared.
        Arona’s attention snapped back to herself, and she handed the fine object to the lady. She couldn’t help but notice the glowing eyes of Irtak, who apparently was very eager to see what would happen.
        So he will move too, she thought, hope his father won’t be too sad… Why did she felt it was a separation from this place she had found she was liking…

        — If you look closely, said Malvina to no one in particular, but Arona took it for herself, you will see how easy it is to come back if you feel so inclined.

        At her touch, the coloured sands in the sabulmantium’s transparent dragon shell globe started to move. And all could see the cave being formed, with all the little people, dragons, glukenitches and even Leo and Mandrake… They were all here, enclosed into a circle of sand.

        — Now, if you will follow me… said Malvina who traced on the ground a curvy symbol.

        And very slowly, as the whole sand scenery inside the sabulmantium was turning in a round, they all felt as though they were dissolving into the air. Yet, they were all solid, and the interior of the cave was still too.
        The only thing that was moving was the exterior, twirling and changing, getting out of focus, and moving erratically at the beginning, and then getting close to a focal point. Some fine tuning was occurring.

        And in a snap,
        The landscape
        Was
        In all its splendor…

        — Greetings! a smiling couple at the entrance of the cave said to the people inside.

        #744
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Just as Becky was retorting crossly to Al to please knock before remote viewing her, a clap of thunder made her jump (causing her dress to ride up alarmingly) and the heavens opened. Lashing rain soaked her to the skin, making the few threads of her dress become completely transparent.

          Becky moaned in disbelief. Well, she giggled, suddenly seeing the funny side. (She was connecting to the Kuzhebarian Laughing Monks). This is one Wet Tarty Nun that couldn’t get much wetter. I hope Elvira brings a towel.

          #741
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Elvira was tucking into some reindeer stew left over from Becky and Sean’s wedding when she telepathically tuned into Becky’s distress signal. Chewing thoughtfully, Elvira tried to make sense of the visual imagery she was receiving. She seemed to be getting a mixed message; was it a nun, or was it a tart? She reminded herself to trust her impressions, and not discount them even if they seemed incongruous or unlikely, and accepted that Becky was indeed in some kind of tarty nun trouble. The question was, where was Becky.

            Elvira pushed her empty plate away, and focused on the situation. AHA! Nutley Park, 25th bush on the left.

            Boris, I’m going out, she said. Becky’s in a spot of tarty nun trouble in Nutley park.

            Right Ho, dear, shall I come and help?

            Another image of popped into Elvira’s head of the see-through black mini dress. Er, no Boris, I’ll handle this myself.

            And with that, Elvira, sprightly old crone that she was (and fortified with mushroom laced reindeer stew) bustled off to hail a gondola cab, carrying a large carpet bag containing a selection of hastily chosen clothing.

            #739

            Vessie Darl, Sha and I are just popping down to the beach for some more of them special beauty sea waters you told us about.

            Great idea, Gloria, responded Veranassessee vaguely. She watched absent-mindedly as Gloria’s generous body, clad only in a skimpy red bikini, disappeared down the corridor. There was something about that shade of red tugging at her memory. Vermillion red …

            Red! PLAN B! Oh my God! how could she have forgotten!

            It was two days since she had called him, that meant he would be here soon, that did not leave her much time to prepare.

            :fleuron:

            Everything has to be perfect. She wears a silk vermillion red camisole, the one he gave her, scarcely covered by lush black velvet and topped with bright red lipstick. She casts her eyes critically around the room. It is nearly three years since she has seen him, she doesn’t want to spoil this moment. The glasses of soft red merlot are ready, a plate of miniature liqueur chocolates on a plate by the bed.

            She shakes out her long dark hair and looks in the mirror. Her chocolate skin glows, her eyes are bright. She will do. She touches the red silk camisole … it is still beyond her comprehension how she can have forgotten.

            When he arrives he is beautiful. Too beautiful. she thinks. It is so easy for him, effortless. He appraises the room and laughs casually, he knows how hard she has tried. Agent V he says, a pleasure to see you again. He kisses her. She remembers everything.

            He takes a sip of the wine. She watches him, unsure of herself. He has a black bag with him.

            He looks at her, sees her looking at the bag, and smiles slowly, I have something to show you, Agent V, he says, and she can sense his pride, the barely suppressed excitement in his voice.

            He opens the bag carefully, pulls out a small white box, handles it lovingly. Two years experimentation in the Russian lab, he says softly, delicate threads of spun blue bonnet spider silk and yet strong enough to hang a bridge on.

            He looks at her. Come here. he says

            She hesitates for just a moment thinking of Mahiliki, and then inwardly shrugs, bugger it, I never really wanted to live on Fukitupi island and have loads of babies anyway. She moves over to him. He takes the transparent silk and slowly starts to wind the delicate thread around her wrists. Try and break it, he whispers in her ear, kisses her neck.

            Then stops.

            My God, what the fuck is that?

            Veranassessee sighs.

            :fleuron:

            No I swear Sha, I am telling you, I saw him go into Vessie’s room.

            Oh my God Glor, he might be a murderer, or a bloody rapist even!

            I tell you though, he were right bloody gorgeous.

            Well never mind that! The door is locked Sha. I think we’d better shout out. Make sure she’s okay.

            Right, good idea. And then if she doesn’t answer we can bash the door in and we can both pounce on him.

            Right, on the count of three Glor, we’‘ll shout out, one… two… THREE!”

            #735

            The last words of the stranger were still resonating in his mind. Franiel was feeling a bit drowsy and he had the odd sensation of being looked from the inside. A smile illuminated the face of the man.

            You are the weirdest man I ever saw. he said in a sigh. When he realized what he had told his guest, he blushed with shame. I’m sorry, I wouldn’t mean…
            Hahahahaha. The man was slapping on his legs. Hahahaha, my dear Franiel, you don’t know how close to the truth you are. I appreciate when one speak his heart.

            Franiel couldn’t say anything. He was aware that he should have been feeling shameful, but the laugh of the stranger had dissipated that convention. He was just feeling in harmony with his creation. This last thought surprised him. His creation? He’d been told that the gods created all that is on the Duane, her sister the Murtuane and their ghostly sister the Phrëal.

            What was in the nectar? I’m seeing things. He frowned. Something in the surrounding objects, the mossy rocks and the earthly path, the grass and the insects flying or crawling around. The colors were different. Your eyes… they are… blue…

            The stranger was still smiling, not saying anything, and though Franiel was feeling as if he was communicating him important things.

            Something leapt from behind a tawheowheo, making the nearby dandelion seeds fly away silently.
            The creature was barking and Franiel jumped on his feet, making the chalice fall in the dust. It was similar as a mountain wolf, but smaller. Black and fuzzy. And it was running toward him.

            Don’t be afraid of Moufle, he’s my long life companion, he’s been following me in my exploration for quite some time in a form or another. He makes a lot of noise, but he knows his friends.

            Moufle was trying to lick Franiel’s face. All the love he had felt a second before was shaded by the need to keep the animal away. Not that he was dangerous. The stranger… what was his name? He didn’t tell him his name. Franiel was too shy in his normal state to dare ask directly. But he could at least relax as Moufle was now occupied with his master, who spoke as if he’d read his mind.

            I am not his master, you see. he was fondling his companion. He’s just choosing to come with me.
            He kept silent for a minute, snooting around.

            By the way, my name is Leonard.

            #732

            Elvira and Boris were knee deep in mushrooms when the strangers appeared asking for food. Visitors were few and far between at the isolated old wooden house, but it was with mixed feelings that Elvira greeted them. It would be wonderful to have a little conversation, some news of the outside world, but this was the busiest time of the year and she hardly had a moment to spare as it was.

            However, she greeted them amiably enough, and invited them inside. Come in, come in, come in! she said, Would you like a cuppa? Are you hungry? There’s some reindeer stew left over from last night.

            Zhana’s stomach growled loudly in response. Would I ever! I am STARVING! Zhana beamed a smile at Elvira.

            Well, sit yourselves down then, if you can find a chair that’s not covered in mushrooms.

            Elvira suddenly had an idea.

            Are you two in a hurry? Would you stay a few days and help with the mushroom packing?

            Zhana looked at Sanso, who nodded. A few days with plenty to eat before their long journey, and a few provisions to take along with them would be perfect.

            Of course we will, we’d be delighted to stay and help, Zhana said to the old lady.

            Splendid! Boris will be so pleased! I’m a great cook, you know, if I do say so myself. As much food as you can eat in return, eh? How does that sound? Elvira smiled at her guests. My, my, girl, what a wonderful complexion you have! she said, peering at Zhana. Like a summer peach!

            Zhana blushed happily, and Sanso beamed.

            #731
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              It was taking longer than expected for Sanso and Zhana to find food, and they were weak with hunger when they came across the big toad. There was plenty of water; gurgling brooks and rushing streams crisscrossed their path, crystal clear with icy cool snow melt from the summer thaw. The’d found a few cow berries along the way, and they had chewed a few mushrooms but they wanted something substantial before setting off for the other side of the world. Sanso had left a trail of flourescent green cave lichen, to show them the way back to the cave entrance, which was to be their portal to Nishanti’s place.

              Maybe the toad will show us the way to find food, said Zhana. Ask him, Sanso!

              You ask him! replied Sanso.

              No, YOU ask him. Zhana was inexplicably feeling shy.

              Sanso chuckled goodnaturedly, and agreed to ask toad. He stood there silently smiling for some minutes, and Zhana began to wonder just WHEN Sanso would oblige. Her stomach was grumbling and growling and she was starting to get impatient when Sanso turned and strode purposefully off to the left.

              What the…..snapped Zhana. She rushed after him, angrily shouting OY! Her foot caught on a root, sending her sprawling face down amongst the mushrooms.

              Sanso turned, and couldn’t help but laugh. The more he laughed, the angrier Zhana became, causing Sanso to laugh all the more.

              AAAH Ha Ha Ha! AAAHHHH Ha Ha Ha HAAAAH! OOO Hoohooo! If you could see your face all covered in blue mud and red and white spotted mushrooms, you’d laugh too!

              Zhana started to cry.

              There there, dear, Sanso said kindly, trying hard to stop laughing, and wiped the mess off the girls face with an old rag he found in one of his pockets. Did you know that Siberian blue mud is a much sought after beauty treatment in some places? This little mishap will do wonders for your complexion, you know.

              Will it? snivelled Zhana, who had been preoccupied of late with with her adolescent skin.

              Yes! There is no such thing as an accident, you know.

              Well, where were you rushing off to, anyway? You promised to ask toad where to find food, and then without saying a word, you dashed off and left me!

              Sanso looked perplexed. I DID ask toad!

              No, you DIDN’T, retorted Zhana.

              Sanso stared at her, wondering what was the matter with her. Then the penny dropped, so to speak, and he realized that Zhana was more familiar with verbal conversations, and had been unaware of the silent communication between him and toad.

              Zhana, most of our conversations aren’t in words, you know, he explained gently. Listen to the non-words.

              Huh? it was Zhana’s turn to look perplexed.

              You do it all the time you know. You are simply not paying attention.

              He winked at her, and smiled. Come on! The food is this-a-way!

              #727

              The cave was silent, except for the sounds of water springing from one of the wall.
              The night was long and full of dreams. Georges and Salome were here since a few weeks now, and the were spending a lot of time with Malvina, talking about many things from different places that Irtak had never heard of. One was called New York City, another was called Vienna, another was the Smoo Cave and there were so many more… Malvina seemed to know most of them. That was the first time he ever wondered how old she could be. Since his arrival here, it had never come to his mind that she could be “old”. He knew she was wiser than most of the Elders, but she seemed so young.

              She had magic. Maybe that was the key to her youth.

              He felt Heckle and Jeckle stretching their attention in their dream state. Their bodies were lying together on the warm sandy floor, and their light bodies were playing around. He could see them flickering in and out of the room. He could follow them if he wanted, but his mind was full of the places their guests had described.

              :fleuron:

              Georges and Salome were lying on an improvised bed, made of a snoot fur on the warm sandy floor. He was holding her tenderly. Their energy gently merged in a single movement. They were fully opened to one another and Salome was creating an inner landscape for them both to play in. Sam’s body was lying nearby, and her spirit was frolicking around in this inner landscape.

              They were sitting in the center of a clearing, at night time. The sky was full of stars and Georges did recognized the sky of the Murtuane. An owl was hooting not far away, sated after her hunt. They could feel her contentment, the hunt was good, several big mice tonight…

              Malvina was with them, and appreciating of the environment. She had had few occasions of going to the Murtuane herself. Even though she was so close, living on the Duane, its planetary sister.

              Where are we exactly? asked Malvina.
              Not so far away from the purple beach of Kandulim where Jarvis once came. Jarvis is a focus of Georges. And he surprised me once… Salome recalled that event with amusement.
              Georges grinned widely and chuckled.
              Yes, I can remember.

              Malvina sighed with relief.
              You are aware that my sisters are coming soon to the cave.
              Yes, we could feel the calling, so to speak. This is the crossroad of many probabilities, and it is connected to many, though not as spread as the shift in “our” dimension is or was, depending on when you project your attention.
              It was Malvina’s turn to grin now.
              Yes, I am aware. It will be soon time for us to move the cave into another location.

              SPOTCH

              OH! THAT’S WHERE YOU THREE HAVE BEEN ALL THIS TIME? INTERESTING ARRANGEMENT OF YOUR PSYCHE. THOUGH I PREFER MY CAVE.

              SPOOTCH

              Sam got on her legs and barked, quite surprised by this sudden blinking in and out of the dragon.

              HAHAHA, we didn’t even have the time to seem surprised. said Georges. Lëormn was quick. And he likes being in himself.

              Salome got on her feet and stroked Sam playfully. The dog was licking her face with affection, and stopped suddenly. She seemed to have heard something.

              The owl hooted again.

              My sisters are closer than what I first thought. This owl is an aspect of Oorlaith. Malvina’s gaze became distant for a few seconds. She won’t come tonight with us, though she gives you her fond appreciation. She’s currently busy with a man you already know… Leonard. Another one like yourself :)
              Salome raised one eyebrow.
              Leonard his here too? That’s an interesting information :) things won’t be dull with him if I dare say so. ;))
              I think he’s got a crush on her. He’s doing some stuffs for her at times… and he’s still with his dog.
              Sam barked a few times, waggling her tail and Georges grinned.
              You remember Moufle, eh!? Well, do you know where you’re going Malvina?

              She looked at him intensely and then at Salome.
              You might be surprised.

              #2122

              In reply to: Snooteries

              The SnootThe Snoot
              Participant

                3312big.jpg

                In this thou art welcome.
                СПАСИБО!

                #725
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  After a long but uneventful ride in the yellow gondola cab, Becky stepped out onto terra firma and strolled through the park.

                  Various fleeting images of the wedding party flashed through her mind, and she recalled the change in Elvira after the meal. She certainly tucked into that reindeer stew, Becky mused, Had a right good scoff, she did. Funny, anyone eating four helpings of that slop would be expected to slump in a chair for an hour or two, but Elvira had sprung into life. She looked pretty good for 121 years old, but who would have guessed what a splendid dancer she was! She put the younger guests to shame with her fancy steps, and tireless enthusiasm.

                  And not only that, she’d really come into her own when the drunken fights started, fearlessly breaking up fights between men twice her size.

                  #722
                  Jib
                  Participant

                    Yann was so tired that he couldn’t do anything but sleep.
                    It was hard for him to go to work and see people that he wasn’t sure were real.
                    It was hard for him too with Yurick because he couldn’t explain what was happening to him, though he was sure enough that it wasn’t connected to his friend.
                    He was evaluating his life and how he was creating it.
                    He was evaluating his relations.

                    He was just afraid to become sort of an autist.

                    #720

                    As the bride and groom were exchanging the rings, Al was brought back a few weeks earlier, when Becky had announced the little group she and Sean would get married. The initial excitement gone, Tina, Sam and Al had been given the honor to organize that very special day, while Becky surely wouldn’t care to be bothered by such petty things.

                    I think she’s already getting that distinguished snobbish style of the Wricks muttered Tina who was not so fond of being handed down these kinds of unprompted crottes.
                    Al, who was probably thinking as much managed a Don’t be so hard on her, that’ll be a mighty fine wedding, after all, marrying a Wrick has its advantages, we don’t have to be measly on the expenditures
                    Sam, a bit lost in circles, had acknowledged.

                    Well, that had been fun after all, at least Al was thinking, he had not needed to deal with Becky’s own mood fluctuations. As the only Sumafi of the group, he had willingly taken care of the list of the guests, and all the catering orders, while Tina was taking care of the decoration (bride included), and Sam was arranging for the organization and rental of the places and hotels for the wedding and its slew of guests.

                    Of course, as intimate Becky had first required the wedding to be, she had soon changed her mind, and had not resisted long the temptation to gather lots of people she had almost forgotten over the years.
                    Al could almost see clear as day — now the weather had brighten up a bit — in his mind his notepad full of Becky’s recommendations:

                    Becky’s family and friends
                    Sam, Tina & Al (of course)
                    Sabine Baina (mother) and Patel Mahapushtra, her new husband (a child’s toys mogul)
                    Dan (father) and Dory (step-mother; might fear a trip to New Venice, you’ll have to use some extra coaxing with her)

                    [long list of friends, snipped for reader’s comfort]

                    Sean’s family and friends
                    (mother deceased, father unwilling to come, pretexting his rheumatisms and not being able travel so far, but most likely unwilling to see Sean)
                    Sean’s children, Perry and Guiny
                    (aunt and cousin, Deirdre and Dorean Wrick) — Al’s update: they have unexpected guests coming back from Russia at their home, wonder if they could come? Becky: Sure!… Mmmm, Russia you said?

                    Now, finding some great gift for someone as easily distracted as Becky, and as spoiled as Sean was another ball of wax…

                    #1898
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      tjmarshall57: hahahaha as if it’s not bad enough with the weeding, now poor girl has blotches all over her face!
                      tjmarshall57: wedding not weeding
                      tjmarshall57: do russian wear velis?
                      tjmarshall57: veils
                      tjmarshall57: hhhm, blessing by a shaman, plaiting together of the couples hair….(is Becky still blad?)
                      tjmarshall57: The biggest concern at the wedding is to have enough liquor. A Russian Wedding is an event where everybody must be drunk. No one will be surprised if people drink themselves to unconscious on the wedding – and many do.
                      tjmarshall57: well, that will appeal to Sean
                      tjmarshall57: You are probably surprised to find out that a Russian wedding lasts for 2 days!! (Well, at least. Some weddings last as long as a week, and this is something to be proud of and remember for years: it means the couple had enough liquor to go on and on, and enough devoted friends to stay.)
                      tjmarshall57: The Russian church ceremony is colorful and solemn but the complete traditional ceremony is very long, and as guests and the couple have to stand during the ceremony (there are no benches in Russian churches at all; people must stand during all church services), faints are not rare.
                      tjmarshall57: right, so a fair amount of fainting and drunkeness then
                      tjmarshall57: Then the witnesses continue running the wedding, reading jokes and poems, and sometimes asking the new couple questions to make fun of them.
                      tjmarshall57: Franci will you be my witness, you’d be perfect
                      tjmarshall57: “Za molodykh!” (“For the newlywed!”)
                      tjmarshall57: Traditionally money is considered as the best gift, and is given in an envelope. Some time after the beginning of the reception when people start to become drunk the witnesses will ask everybody to give their gifts and one of the witnesses will collect envelopes from the rest of the guests with a tray.
                      tjmarshall57: Then people have time to dance. First dance is opened by the new couple. After the music starts, there is no exact script anymore, and witnesses can relax a little. They still occasionally announce a toast but do not entertain the guests with jokes and poems; guests by this time are already having lots of fun and are able to entertain themselves.

                      Movements become quite hectic; some people go out “to refresh”, and at some moment in this movement the bride gets… “stolen”! She disappears, and when the groom starts looking for her, he is faced with a request for a ransom. Usually it’s his buddies who “steal” the bride. A more or less short wrangle about the amount, and he can have his new wife back. But he must watch out – the bride sometimes may be stolen a few times!

                      tjmarshall57: right, so we have drunkeness, fainting, jokes, poems and insults, and theft and abduction
                      tjmarshall57: Then there are the bride’s friends – they steal the bride’s shoe. The groom must pay ransom for the shoe too – the guests enjoy watching wrangles.
                      tjmarshall57: Often guests leave the wedding in such a condition that they cannot remember what happened. If this was the case with the majority of guests, then the wedding was a huge success
                      tjmarshall57: AHA! This is the key! I will write about it after the wedding, when nobody can remeber anything about it
                      tjmarshall57: Day two of the wedding:After the meal the bride must “clean” the floor in the room. The fun part is that guests are allowed to mess as much as they want while she is cleaning
                      tjmarshall57:
                      tjmarshall57: another part for you!
                      tjmarshall57: guests on a Russian wedding enjoy it much more than the newlywed couple who are all the time made fools of.
                      tjmarshall57: The most popular period for wedding ceremonies in Russia was between the Christmas and Shrovetide (a week before the spring fast). This period was called the wedding period.
                      tjmarshall57: well, the timing is right
                      tjmarshall57: One of the many superstitions still prevailing among the peasant population of Russia is that, on the occasion of a marriage, the happiness of the newly-married couple is not assured unless the parents of the contracting parties are soaked with water from head to foot. When a marriage takes place in summer this is easily accomplished by ducking the fathers and mothers in the nearest river, but in winter they are laid on the ground and rolled in the snow.
                      tjmarshall57: who are the parents?
                      tjmarshall57: Among the Koraks of Siberia a young man seeks for a maiden with considerable dowry in the form of rein-deer
                      tjmarshall57: oh, well we can have psychoactive reindeer pies, anyway
                      tjmarshall57: Kovalevsky has well shown that many of the marriage customs of this country are survivals from a primitive and prehistoric age when the woman ruled the household and had more than one husband.
                      tjmarshall57: hhmmmm
                      tjmarshall57: it all points to a distant age when the matriarchal system prevailed, and the brother was his sister’s guardian. In Little Russia the brother’s sword is decked with the red berries of the rowan tree, red being the emblem of maidenhood.
                      tjmarshall57: red fruit sync!
                      tjmarshall57: no wonder I threw the cherries away!
                      tjmarshall57: ahahahahha!
                      franci_free: oh hrllo
                      franci_free: goodness
                      franci_free: will need to read back
                      tjmarshall57: hahahah oh there you are
                      franci_free: well what a complicated theme
                      tjmarshall57: haahah well
                      franci_free: you will have to write about the wedding
                      tjmarshall57: the key to the whole thing is that everyone was so drunk that nobody can remeber any of it aftrwards
                      franci_free: hahahah
                      franci_free: great!
                      tjmarshall57: thats my angle, I think
                      franci_free:
                      tjmarshall57: and s few things fit perfectly
                      tjmarshall57: the red fruit
                      tjmarshall57: the time of year
                      tjmarshall57: the drunkeness, Sean will love that
                      franci_free: the splotches?
                      tjmarshall57: well, nobody will remeber that
                      tjmarshall57: afterwards

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