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  • #1146

    “Oh My God” exclaimed Bea. “I had a dream about the DOOR!”

    “Oh, well done! The question is, did you remember it?” asked Leonora.

    “As a matter of fact, Leo, I did!” replied Bea with a happy smile. “As a matter of fact, although I’m not too sure how factual matter really is, but anyway, I did remember the dream, and I wrote it all down.”

    “Gosh, up early this morning, weren’t you?” asked Leo, who was sipping coffee at the kitchen table and watching the sun come up over the mountains through the open door.

    “Oh I didn’t write it down this morning, silly! I wrote it all down last week.”

    Leo placed her cup on the table and rubbed her eyes, frowning. “Wait a minute, let me get this straight…..”

    Bea laughed ~ she was in rather a jolly mood, despite the early hour. “I had the dream last week, Leo, but I only just realized this morning that the dream was about THE DOOR

    “So what did you learn about the door, then?”

    Bea frowned. “Well I’m not really sure. But it seemed so significant because it was that scary door, you know, the dreams I’ve been having for years about that door in that bedroom that’s too scary to get near, never mind go through….would you like to read it? Maybe you can interpret it for me.”

    “If I must” sighed Leonora “You better pour me another cup of coffee then and pass me those cigarettes.”

    Leonora read from Bea’s Dream Journal:

    I was sorting winter clothes out on an upstairs landing of a cottagey gabled house,
    and decided to use the upstairs bedroom instead of the downstairs one.
    The bedroom was a recurring dream one, gabled attic with dormer windows kind of room.
    Then I saw the door and remembered this was the door I was always too terrified
    in dreams to open; it was so scary that I always wanted to use this bedroom
    but never could because of that terrifying door and whatever lay beyond it.

    “Didn’t you do a waking dream and go through that door?” Leonora asked. “Oh, yes here is is…”

    Remembering that I had done a waking dream and gone beyond the door once,
    I marched up to the door, flung it open and strode through.
    Suddenly an almost overpowering fear and dread stopped me in my tracks
    but I carried on anyway.

    “Oh, bloody well done, Bea! Good for you, girl!” Leonora could be a bit waspish at times, but she was a kind old soul underneath.

     It was a bit like a old slightly shabby but once grand hotel foyer, high ceilings
    (not the same as when I went through in the waking dream, which was then rows
    of closed doors on either side).  The foyer opened out on the left into a large old
    fashioned restaurant dining room, with one person over on the far side sitting at
    a table.  I carried on straight ahead through opaque etched glass double doors
    onto an upstairs outdoor terrace.  There was a city scene below.  On the left
    was a shallow ornately shaped ornamental pool.

    “Reminds me a bit of our trip to Barcelona, this does, eh” Leo commented.

    “Yeah, I’m sure that had something to do with the gargoyle imagery” replied Bea.

    A woman squeezed past me holding a small thick book and I knew she was
    going to jump off the terrace which was several storeys up.  She collapsed into
    the pool, writhing backwards, baring a flat white breast and dropping the book.

    “Flat breast, hahah Bea, that weren’t you then, obviously, was it!”

    Bea chuckled. “Not bloody likely! I reckon that bit slipped in the dream because I can’t find a comfortable bra lately”

    “You and me both” replied Leo. She continued reading from the journal.

    I picked up the book, and somehow ended up with two books, which seemed like guide books. I couldn’t hold onto the two books with the creature in my hand, which was weird, like a very heavy small furry grey reptile, or gargoyle.

    “Maybe it was a baby dragon?”

    “Don’t say that!” retorted Bea, who had a horror of dragons. “The thought did cross my mind too, though” she admitted.

    I was holding it with one hand round its middle and the fat grey belly of it
    was bulging out under my fingers.  It was unbelievably heavy for such a small creature
    and I didn't want to hold it, so I passed it to a boy. (Twice I was holding the creature,
    and twice I passed it to the boy, but I can't recall the other time)
    Back inside the building, I followed the boy down a big wide staircase that
    curved round to the right at a landing below.  I started to fall down the stairs and
    knew it was because of the book that I was holding that the woman had been holding
    when she collapsed into the pool, so I threw the book down the stairs to save myself,
    and felt the tumbling down from the books perspective, although I stayed in
    the same place, clutching the banister.

    “Well I am amazed that you remembered so much, Bea! Going through the doors and finding the books reminds me of Jane’s Library you know”. Leo was starting to go into an altered state.

    “Are you going into an altered state, Leo?” asked Bea. “Are you channeling Juani Ramirez again?”

    “The creature, the gargoyle, was representing ‘a different species of awareness, of consciousness’” continued Leonora, as Bea hastily started taking notes. Leo wouldn’t remember what she’d said while she was channeling Juani, so it was essential that Bea record what was said.

    “The weight was a marker to help you recall the creature, as well as being symbolic of denseness”

    Bea couldn’t help making a snirking noise. Dense eh, she said under her breath.

    “The door” continued Leonora “Is a signpost, a marker.”

    Just then the phone rang, snapping Leonora out of the trance. Bea picked up the telephone, but there was nobody there.

    “Pffft” said Bea.

    “More coffee?”

    #1142

    “I had an absolutely brilliant revelation last night” Bea was saying “about The Door. Buggered if I can remember what it was, though.”

    “Well fat lot of use that is then, Bea” replied Leonora. “Any snapshots? Can you remember anything at all?”

    “Well, there was a big pale green patch that floated down, then there was the floating part, oh and all the coloured light flashes…the French girl, the old fashioned scene…..and that weird change of focus, sort of off centre and a bit out of body, with the guy behind my right shoulder shouting HEY every time my focus started drifting back to normal. Oh, and the spiraling part, that was cool too!” Bea was starting to drift off into another world just thinking about it.

    “Yes, well, now we know all about The Door” said Leonora sarcastically. “Very helpful, Bea, well done.”

    “That’s it!” shouted Bea, leaning forward in excitement. “It’s about blocking energy!”

    Leonora rolled her eyes.

    “Holding tightly to energy, that’s what the closed door is. I can have an open door, and still be free to create who walks through it. We don’t lock the door here, do we, but we don’t get any intruders.”

    “Maybe that’s because we’ve got nine dogs” said Leo. “And anyway, define intruder, in a ‘you create your own reality’ context. What’s the difference between an intruder, and a wonderful surprise?”

    Bea was stumped for a moment. “That’s a good question, Leo, we’ll come back to that in a bit, but let me finish telling you this before I forget again.
    I used to mentally open a big double door every time I did a meditation or went to sleep” Bea continued “and I havent opened that door in months. Well, sometimes it’s open, obviously, but I dont seem to throw the doors open wide anymore, you know, to other energies objectively, if you see what I mean.”

    Bea was starting to ramble. “I used to invite any Tom, Dick and Harry to my meditations as long as they weren’t aliens.”

    “What about the dogs in raincoats dimension?” asked Leo “What were they if they weren’t aliens?”

    “Oh, they were alright, I liked them. Oh you know what I’m like about that other dimensional stuff, don’t get me started on that now. I think occasionally things happen and I get rattled, and shut the door for a bit.”

    “Right, so let see if I’ve got this straight” said Leonora “There’s more than one layer to this Door thing because what you’ve just told me is what’s going on in your reality. The question is, what’s going on in mine?”

    “Buggered if I know, LeoBea replied. “Fancy a cuppa?”

    #1136
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      The interior of the Fly-boat was a bit like a Tardis, in that it was very much bigger on the inside than it appeared from the outside, and quite a different shape, too. While the exterior of the fly-boat resembled a cross between a duck and a bee, the interior was circular. There was a high point in the centre of the ceiling, and richly embroidered tapestries draping down to the floor in sumptuous folds, looking for all the world like a yurt.

      Yukailli Airlines has a decidedly exotic and oriental air, Dory thought as she perused the in flight magazine, which was written in a charming but indecipherable script resembling the Voynich Papers.

      “This is your captain speaking” a disembodied voice boomed. “Welcome aboard! My name is Ignoratio Elenchi, and I trust that you will have a most enjoyable flight with Yukailli AirBoats. There will be no obligation to fasten your seatbelts and you may smoke all through the flight. Our cabin crew will be preparing Vedic Stew over an open fire in the central area of the craft at 11:11. For your in-flight entertainment, up on the open air flight deck there will be a continuous light show by Aurora Borealis. If you want us to stop the flyboat at any point to take snapshots” continued Ignoratio, “Please don’t hesitate to ask.”

      #1115

      Marvin Scrozzezi was taking a look at the rushes they’d taken the other day. At first he was considering putting them in the bonus section of his movie, a blooper section or something.

      But now, the blooper section was overweighting the “real” movie by far. And with the defection of few of the actors (well, “actors” was more of an empty shell of a title than anything else, as most of them were friends or acquaintances), he had to hire new ones.

      What a mess.

      Roger

      Perhaps he should continue his movie with different actors playing the same role alternatively. That would make a nice change. Perhaps it would even been hailed as a pioneer movie by the auteur movies snotty critics.

      “Whatever works…” he giggled to himself as he started to rewrite some parts of the scripts.

      #1926
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Q: Okay. What happens to things we create, like with
        characters? Are they merely thought-forms, being extensions of
        ourselves? Or do they … CAN they move on and become more?

        ELIAS: This is dependent upon your choices and how you are
        manipulating energy.

        Now; in this, let us view what you in physical focus term to be
        artistic expressions, in the area of musical composition and of
        painting expressions. These are two obvious examples within your
        physical creations that you may view certain qualities of the
        expressions.

        Now; in this, some expressions, within either musical compositions
        or expressions of illustrations or paintings, may appear to be
        merely an expression of the individual and hold the energy signature
        of that individual, but they appear or seem to not extend any
        farther, so to speak; this is figuratively speaking.

        In other terms, you may encounter other types of musical
        compositions or illustrated or painted compositions, and they appear
        quite differently. They appear not merely to hold the energy
        signature of the individual that has created them, but they also
        seem to hold an energy of their own, as if they have been created
        into an entity of their own.

        Now; the reason that you connect with this recognition of these
        types of expressions is that the composition does hold the energy
        signature of the individual that has created it, but what it also
        may hold is an aspect of that individual focus which has been
        allowed to be projected outwardly and has been allowed to continue
        independently of the focus.

        This is a similar action to fragmentation, but in very physical,
        figurative terms, a much, much smaller scale.

        This would be likened to any individual, any focus, any essence
        projecting an aspect of itself into any other element within its
        physical creation – a creature, a plant, a rock. It matters not. You
        hold the ability within essence to be projecting an aspect of
        essence or of a particular focus into any of these elements to be
        experiencing the creations of that element of your reality, such as
        a creature or any vegetation, an ocean, a mountain, a rock. It
        matters not.

        In similar manner, you may project an aspect of yourself into one of
        your creations or all of your creations or several of your
        creations, and in this, not merely you shall recognize that this
        creation appears to take on, so to speak, a life of its own, in your
        terms, but other individuals shall recognize this quality also, for
        you have allowed yourself to project an aspect of yourself into your
        physical creation, therefore breathing into it its own
        manifestation, allowing it to be continuing within its own element,
        so to speak, within its own right, in a manner of speaking. Are you
        understanding?

        Therefore, this be your choice of how you shall be creating
        within your creativity and what you shall project within it. Appear
        it not strange to you that certain individuals may be deemed as
        great masters and they shall be revered for their creations and
        their creations shall be enduring throughout your linear physical
        time, and other individuals may be creating and their expressions of
        creativity do not hold this quality? This is the reason…”

        #1096
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Well, I think you just got your answer, Becky, she said to herself, as she read the recent additions. Blimey O Riley! Where to go from here, I wonder? I think it might be best, she surmised, to continue with Hector hallucinating. After all, that will explain any bizarre eventuality.

          #1075

          Lady Theresa Eaglestone, know as T’Eggy to her friends, waited in the potting shed at Pilston Manor (which was how the locals pronounced Pillaughpiffleston).

          “There” said Becky with a grim smile “Much easier. As if I would remember how to spell that!” Not for the first time, Becky wondered if it might be a good deal easier to write her own Reality Play and forget all this collaborative nonsense. It was hard enough to remember her own story lines, never mind trying to keep track of all the other bizarre additions as well. “Now who the devil is Hector Coon?” Thankfully this Pillaughpiffleston thread was a new one, and Becky had a fairly free rein with it: nothing was yet decided regarding the location and time frame, so if she was quick about it, and made her entry before the others, the ball was in her court.

          T’Eggy (Becky continued to write) shivered in the cool breeze that was blowing into the draughty old potting shed. She turned the the carved watermelon rind over and over in her hands, puzzling over what possible significance it may have. Surely it was a clue, or at the very least a symbol of some aspect of inner reality, but what? And what did Hector know that she didn’t know?

          #1063
          AvatarJib
          Participant

            The creaking sound of the door reminded her of a young lampürnok during the mating season on the Duane. Loads of lamprunki (plural for lampürnok) near Mount Elok’ram in her little village.

            The pock-marked face of Pavel appeared at the door.

            — Pheeeebe! I am sooo glaad we meet again.

            He entered and sat on what was supposed to be a bed.

            — I can’t say I’m glad, Pavel.

            She snorted.

            — Last time I saw you, you were running away with one of my possessions. And by the Elder gods! Couldn’t you do something about your monstrous face with all that I taught you? Well, Georges was always better than you could be… I wonder where he is currently…

            She had said that more to herself than to get any answer from him. He didn’t depart from his smile and his apparently joyous mood.

            — Well, at least I saved you from a cerrrrtain death. And I know how grateful you arrre inside yourrrrself.

            That horrid accent of his. It had always made her shudder. But she had to cope with it… for now. She needed to know where she was and why he seemed so sure he would find her there at that very moment. What was he looking for, and how was the Baron involved in all this.

            — You know that I never liked small-talk. Why don’t you tell me what you want and stop pretending to be what you can’t be? All you can do is work for someone else. You’re too stupid and too coward to take any initiative. You’re too numb to use your imagination…

            She didn’t like the quavering quality of her voice. She had to be dead tired that she was loosing her temper like that.
            She cowered back in her chair as he started to move closer, his face suddenly twisted in anger. It was obvious he wouldn’t touch her, he still feared her, she could see it in his eyes… but he also knew that she was quite powerless at the moment. She’d almost drowned in that mass of water, it had changed her in a way she couldn’t fathom yet, and she could feel a small ball of anguish deep inside. She thought for a moment he would beat her. Though he managed to compose his fake joyful expression again.

            — Listen Pheeeebee, I’m not the impulsive lad you knew. And though I’m not as good as the Dandy I can still impress you, I’m sure of it. But we’re not here to speak about parlor tricks or measure our prowess.

            She couldn’t help but notice that he had lost his accent.

            — The Baron… yes I work for him now… another old friend of yours… I wonder how old you are

            As she was frowning he continued.

            — Nonetheless, he needs your help in Hawaii.

            A dim light in her mind. So he was after the skulls too. She had to be more cautious about what she could blurt out, especially in her condition.

            #1056
            AvatarJib
            Participant

              Sam wanted to see by himself. He had suddenly remembered what Becky had told them once about a pet shop with a nine-tailed glowing fox. He hadn’t paid attention at the moment, but this was somewhat reappearing in his dreams lately. One of his focuses was the link, and he was seeing his face more and more looking directly at him.
              He usually wasn’t speaking with his other selves, he was rather directly exchanging energy with them. At first it had been a bit awkward, practicing with telepathy and conversing with his friends was his main focus of interest. But once he was aware of how he could do that more easily and more efficiently, his attention wandered to other means of communication.
              Eschraiel was currently nudging him, and his animal form was quite intriguing. Especially since there were those kind of animals living now!
              He had arrived at the shop without really paying attention. He was following his guts to lead him exactly where he wanted.
              Being soft, in the kind of mode of processing he was in currently, the people around were like objects around merged with his environment, nothing standing out. Except maybe that woman in front of the big parrot cage… no, not the woman but the color of her gown, a deep indigo, vibrant and shiny. She turned her smiling face in his direction, but it was like Eschraiel’s energy superimposed on hers. He smiled back at her and continued to the rear of the shop.

              The creatures were in a dark room, their fur glowing with rusty and fiery shades. Apparently very engrossed in chasing each others tails… they had quite a lot to keep them busy. The little ones especially were jumping heartily on the older ones. Challenging them to retaliate… but getting apparently no response from them except a few grunts.

              :fleuron:

              No particular feeling at first.

              :fleuron:

              One of the little ones, maybe…

              :fleuron:

              This one. One of the older ones. A male. He was looking at him now, as aware of Sam’s energy as Sam was aware of his.
              He yelped a few times, standing like an Egyptian Sphinx.

              :fleuron:

              In no time, Sam was out with his nine-tailed glowing fox
              He’s so still, thought Sam.
              How would I name you? he thought, directing the energy to the creature.

              He opened his mouth and let his tongue out in such a way, it was like he was grinning and challenging him. Sam laughed and thought to the fox : So I have to play the impression game with you then.
              Maybe… I can call you Sam actually :))
              One bark was enough of an answer.
              So Sam it is!
              Another bark.
              I have to introduce you to my friends now… I don’t know why, but I have the feeling Al will love you

              #1055

              As she was sinking to the bottom of the raging sea, Madame Chesterhope first felt like a boiling rage inside her, at all the thwarted attempts, all the unfulfilled promises.
              Not a solid thing on which to carve a few runes or symbols to get herself out, not a single living being to use at her profit, she was alone, at the mercy of gravity.
              Not unexpectedly, flashes of her life, of her many lives, flickered like incoherent pieces of an unfinished mosaic in her mind.

              When did it went wrong? she thought… When did she lose touch with her magic.
              Not the mundane magic, not the one she used for these parlor tricks devoid of meaning, like that beautiful flying motorbike which was drowning even faster than her… She was speaking of her inner magic, her sense of connection with the elements, with herself, Phoebe.

              What had become of the frail grey-haired lady the apparency of whom she was so fond of taking years ago?
              She was tempted to blame many things; the twenty-first century of her own dimension, for one, which had made her rough and tough, out of need perhaps, and perhaps a bit out of laziness. It was out of tiredness mostly, tiredness to have to constantly justify her appearance to others, that she had chosen a more convenient one; that of the crone with more rotund forms, of whom one would only expect austerity and strength.
              You can see where it had led you. she was thinking.

              A few more miles further down, and perhaps she would meet the mermaids, like the guy said in that Big Blue motion picture
              Maybe there was some purity left in her heart, that would make the inhabitants of the depths greet her wretched soul. Or perhaps they all died before her, from the pollution of this strange world mutating in pangs and spasms of a painful childbirth.

              And what would you do now, if you have the choice? that sweet voice, like that of a thin grey-haired mermaid, was it her own, testing herself?
              The quest for magical artifacts seemed so far away at this moment. It had begun a long time ago, led her to discover new other-dimensional places… new tricks, all of them for what? To gain control over the elements, the others, everything that could threaten her, force her to change. How ironic. That the fear of change made her change so drastically.
              She wanted to make peace with all of that. The mermaids weren’t coming, but her own voice was still there for her. Perhaps she could muster the strength. To continue…

              Mustering all her force, she forcibly expressed the most propelling “prout” she’d ever made. Of course, she’d been learning a few tricks from the legendary Fartiste back in her youth when she went to Paris to perform at the Moulin Rouge… Sweetest time of her life, she had to admit…

              :fleuron:

              On the surface of the waters, bubbles started to form.

              #2149

              In reply to: The Story So Far

              EricEric
              Keymaster

                Tikfijikoo Island (continued)

                (synopsis)

                It starts with the Dr doing some evil tests on that remote island; he’s with the nurse Bellamy, whose forte is coconut tree frog-leaping, and Veranessesseesessesses with her impossible name (V’ass)
                We then learn the Dr is mad, and his researches are financed by an occult organization, who V’ass is working for, to check on their assets; he’s mad but brilliant.

                He’s a bit of a transvestite too (fullname Chris Bronklehampton)
                The organization has given him a machine in which there is a crystal skull, unknown to him. This crystal skull seems linked to spiders somehow and his researches on spiders genome (blue bonnet), but we only know it’s coveted by many people. It’s all happening in our dimension, roughly at our time.

                (Where Leo and Bea are renting Jose’s house and they are Dory’s and Dan timeframe ie: now)

                The first experiences give dreadful results; there is Sasha (mummified by the doctor) who’s dead, and now speaks with the Dr; and there is Claude, who gained super strength and madness, and escaped the island facility.
                Claude is one of those working with the Mad Baron ; he’s on a undercover mission to get the skull
                (The false Viscountess —lady in salmon— at the auction was also working for the baron)

                So Claude escapes but there is another mysterious person looking for the skull; it’s Madame Chesterhope, and she’s sent the magpies to steal it. The magpies are from another dimension, they are famous stealers.
                Claude encounters the magpies on their mission. He’s captured in an energy labyrinth they have set on the island temporarily, to cover their tracks.

                Meanwhile, Sha and Glo have arrived. Dory wanted to go but she couldn’t find the airline (bag lady)…
                And Mavis later explains in a comment (555) how they all got involved in that adventure. She takes some time to convince her husband, and get to go to Tikfijikoo too. During the flight correspondence, she gets to know Paquita and Joselito.

                On the island, the Dr is losing it seriously. He talks to the dead mummy, and had blond wig and stuff.
                V’ass is reacquainting herself with the Italian of her secret organization, to report on the Dr. (insert steamy sex scene :)) ) )

                Dory is back at Gib, with Dan and young Becky and later, her friends Yurick and Yann came to visit; go see Salitre :)
                She has knowledge of Leo and Bea (Fletcher) – at whose place there are skulls too.

                On the island, everything starts to get crazy; since Sha and Glo arrived
                The magpies are ready to strike as a cyclone is coming.
                Claude has recovered his memory and is no longer mad; but he’s still trapped and tries to find an escape in a strange tree. He goes into another dimension, the giant spiders’ one.
                In this dimension there are a few human survivors. There is young Anita, and her mummified parents, but still alive from a plane crash; and a stranded soldier from WWII, named “Akita”, who’s got a spirit dog with him he’d found on the spider island.
                They somehow managed to survive in the giant spider’s jungle (the island is on top of a sort of Bermuda triangle).

                Anita is in communication with our four essences, who can manifest easily in this spider dimension and our essences are aware of an dimensional gate opening (the cyclone).
                All this people get together and succeed in escaping through the wortex.

                So now, that explains the people around the campfire on Tikfijikoo. It was all relatively brief, during the storm, where the others were sheltered on the facility (thanks to V’ass who cared for the careless Sha and Glo)

                Sha and Glo find out the magpies trying to pry the computer open where the skull is hidden; they crush the magpies with coconuts bra slings (exit the magpies in purple blood ;)) )
                They find the strange crystal skull they mistakenly think is some apparatus like an UV lamp. They take it to the UV room and plug it; it starts to project all sorts of lights
                They want to dance, because it’s like a disco.

                Meanwhile, one giant spider has managed to sneak through the portal, and goes close to them, but she gets sidetracked by the lightened skull and gets shrunk to a small size… and gets crushed by Sha and Glo (they’re the heroines of the day, but they don’t know squat ;)) )

                There is also a honeycomb subplot with a man named Jarvis on the island, with beehives.

                Now: Sha and Glo are dancing, Mavis is going out attracted by the campfire, finding out the survivors (The campfire was there because it’s night, and Claude is wary of the island’s owners, because he was abducted and mummified). The Dr is mad as ever.
                The skull is in the UV room, but they don’t know what it is — only Madame Chesterhope and Claude are knowing (possibly Jarvis and V’ass); but Mme Chesterhope is flung into the ocean crashing into Mahiliki’s plane recently :))

                #1027

                She was the first to notice.

                First there was a loud bang, that she perceived as a shock wave rippling all around.

                Then, she felt a strange flabby thing with bat arms fall into the ocean, while the other energy was coming their ways. “Wow,” she couldn’t help but think; “they’re having unusual nightly activities around for such a small isolated island.”

                The dog resting by the fire got alerted then, and tried to wake up the others. But apparently, they seemed oblivious to it.

                Then, something stranger happened. The small white rabbit started to talk, as if it had been aware all along.
                “It’ll take a while for him to see you again Kay, just don’t yap like a silly dog… Besides, you’ll disturb our guests”
                “Guests?” the dog answered back.

                The moment after, the rabbit had disappeared from the girl’s lap, and was standing between her and the dog.
                “Welcome, Balbina”, he told her.

                “How do you know my name?” she was aghast, unable to say if it was for the talking rabbit, or for the fact it knew her name.
                Unperturbed, it continued “It’s a busy night. There are lots of things happening, and we hope you’ll stick around. It may be helpful for our friends here.”
                “Er… why not… I mean, yes, sure. And you are?”
                Yuki, at your service. I’m not really a rabbit of course, but that form is convenient”
                “And cute too…” she said tentatively
                “Thank you”

                Balbina had never thought a rabbit could blush, but she would have bet it was the closest thing to a blushing rabbit she had just witnessed.

                “Sorry to interrupt you,” Kay said, but who are the other guests?

                a shrilling voice came as an answer OOOOooohh a campfire! How cuty pooh! Wait till Sha and Glo see that, we could have some roasted marshmallows and pork chops! I’m feeling soooo hungry…”

                “Great… So much for our little secret expedition,” Claude sighed as he woke up.

                #1014
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  “Oh just leave the reader to do the proof reading, Yurick! If ‘there are no accidents’ then a few misspellings or a bit of mangled grammar might contain a clue for someone somewhere, somewhen….
                  it might be best to leave them in. You never know, you know… and anyway, I have this funny feeling that the pages aren’t quite as officially fixed as we might be inclined to think. Not quite cast in stone, as it were….Don’t ask me what I mean, Yurick,” Dory said with a laugh, “Because I can’t explain it.”

                  Yurick knew better than to ask Dory to explain anything, and remained silent, with one eyebrow raised quizzically as Dory rambled on.

                  “It’s like the branches of a tree,” Dory continued, with a faraway look in her eyes. “The branches on a tree look like such a tangle, but they are all connected to the trunk ~ the roots might look like a hopeless tangle too, if we could see them, but they do know what they’re doing ~ feeding the trunk or the core which sprouts out all over the place. There’s a bird in the tree, hopping from branch to branch. Does he care if he hops from one branch to another? No! Imagine if the bird was so rigid that he had to hop all along one branch from start to finish before changing to another branch.”

                  “Hahahah,” Yurick laughed, “A Sumafi bird?”

                  “You might say the little bird is the present moment, free to hop onto any branch at any time, or even fly to another tree…” continued Dory, who hadn’t heard Yurick.

                  “Another tree?” asked Yurick with a mock pained expression. “I have enough trees on my plate already.”

                  “And the thing is with trees, there isn’t really a place to start hopping or a place to stop hopping, from the birds perspective.”

                  Dory turned to Yurick with a grin. “It’s a book that you can read from any starting point. No beginning, and no end… maybe we can have all the pages loose with no numbers on, sort of a do-it-yourself assembly…”

                  Yurick laughed, a trifle nervously, and asked Dory if she would like a cup a coffee.

                  #998
                  EricEric
                  Keymaster

                    “Okay,” Al started.
                    “At the essence of I Ching, is the notion that everything is mutable, and changes. Everything changes, except the law that says that everything changes.
                    “In many ways, the I Ching is like a book where the pages numbering change every time you start to read it. Not unlike our story composition.”

                    “I get that,” answered Tina, interested by what would come out.

                    “So,” Al continued, always disagreeably pondering, Tina would say. “usually, when people are drawing to read from the I Ching, they have six numbers that give an hexagram. And these numbers are carrying into them their potential change, which usually gives another hexagram to read.”
                    “In our stories, the entries have a fixed identity, which is given by the system; this is our starting point. For your comments, this is ’4-191-328’.
                    “But as everything evolves, our entries are given an order in the book; this order is changeable, and that’s what I will use for the second hexagram; in your case it’s ’2-151-223’.”
                    “If you say so…” Tina sighed, a bit lost.
                    “Oh, I’m inventing the rules as we speak,” Al said trying to reassure her somewhat.
                    “I don’t know if that makes me feel better” she said.

                    “Okay. Now, I need to create the hexagrams; hexagrams are defined by six straight or broken lines; zero or one, binary system. Here, Chinese usually use the convention that odd is straight, and even is broken… Ahaha, doesn’t seem to make sense, but odd is male, unbalanced into action, and is associated with single, straight things. Broken is paired, complete in reflection, unbalanced in passivity.”

                    “And I wonder when we actually start to hear something that makes sense?” whispered Tina, a bit crossly.

                    “Okay, the thing I see, is that I have trouble making one hexagram with seven numbers, ahaha”, Al laughed a bit embarrassed.

                    “Oh, then no point in wiggling like that” said Tina very sweetly, “Scrap any bit that bothers you”.

                    “Okay, anyway we can go deeper into them afterwards if needed; I’ll scrap the first number rather than the last, because you see, 2 and 4 are both even, and thus there is no mutation here.”

                    Original Mutation
                    8 ╌ 3 —
                    2 ╌ 2 ╌
                    3 — 2 ╌
                    1 — 1 —
                    9 — 5 —
                    1 — 1 —
                    4 ╌ 2 ╌

                    “So here we are, if we scrap the bottom one, we get…”

                    #963

                    PPPSSST!

                    Arona looked around, but couldn’t see anything. That sounded just like someone saying PPSSST, she said to herself.

                    PPPSSTT! Over here!

                    A large human form hidden behind voluminous dusty folds of indigo fabric was beckoning to her from behind a rock.

                    Arona! Over here!

                    Arona inched towards the apparition. Sanso? she whispered. Sanso, is that really you?

                    Ahahaha yes, it’s me, and this is my new friend Zhana, he said, courteously introducing the two girls.

                    I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation, Arona. I know where the cave entrances are. You’re most welcome to come with us, if you’d like to. There are no closed entrances in MY cave. Er, Our cave, Sanso corrected himself. Well, MY cave. He laughed. You know what I mean, he said, We all know we each create our own caves, no need to keep droning on and on about it, eh, but what I mean to say is, if you’d like to share a perception of my cave with me, where there are no closed entrances (or indeed exits, depending on your direction and point of perception), you are most welcome to join us.

                    Looking kindly down at Zhana, he continued: I’ll bet my young freind here would appreciate some young female company.

                    We’re going to Nishanti’s place, Arona, said Zhana shyly. Would you like to come with us?

                    #962
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      I’m worried about Al, Tina, said Becky. He’s really acting strange lately, have you noticed?

                      Noticed! Of course I’ve bloody noticed! exclaimed Tina.

                      Aw, Tina! Becky gave Tina a warm hug.

                      I don’t think he’s getting enough sleep, Becky, Tina continued. Like for example, you know what you were writing in the Reality Play about Becky and the clones? Well, he thinks it’s real! He thinks the babies are clones. He even thinks YOU’RE a clone, Becky!

                      Oh surely not, Tina! Ahahahah! Becky couldn’t help laughing.

                      It’s no laughing matter, Backy, said Tina reproachfully, but Becky’s laughter was infectious and Tina started to smile. Oh stop making me laugh! I’m worried!

                      A gurgling sound erupted from one of the baby Moses baskets. Those babies have such a sense of humour for such tiny things! said Tina, smiling down at the sunny smiling little faces.

                      Haha yes, when they’re not screaming with rage, laughed Becky.

                      Tina frowned. I wonder what Al sees when he looks at them?

                      What do you mean, Tina?

                      Well, didn’t you read Al’s last entry in the Play? Don’t ask me for a link, Becks, look it up yourself!

                      Becky rolled her eyes with mock exasperation. You mean about them being emotionless?

                      He’s reconfiguring their energy to fit his delusions, Becky. He’s becoming so immersed in the Play that he’s believing it’s real . It’s all a bit worrying, because he’ll be going on about dragons and mermaids in the apartment next, or talking chairs or something. I don’t know how to handle it.

                      Hey, I have an idea! Becky said. How about that doctor Muir?

                      #958
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Roshan sipped his tea thoughtfully. I hope you know what you’re doing, Gayesh.

                        Gayesh smiled confidently at his uncle. Stop worrying, Roshan! It’s all going perfectly to plan. Nishanti will be here in a few days; she will act as bait for the others. Becky is already here, and doing well. I don’t anticipate problems with Becky.

                        Roshan snorted.

                        Gayesh continued: Bea and Leonora have been contacted, although they are not objectively aware yet. We may have to send someone back; we need their cooperation.

                        Roshan raised his eyebrows. And what if they don’t cooperate?

                        Gayesh replied with a sinister chuckle, Leave it to me, uncle. Things are coming together perfectly.

                        #929

                        ~ It’s dark here ~

                        Focus on our voices, continue to follow the flow…
                        Focus…
                        I think I can hear something…
                        Yes…
                        It’s like rain…

                        Yes, just like the rain a dreamy voice answered the little girl

                        #925
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          “My yellow is fine and dandy”
                          Said green hued sickly Mandy
                          “You’re mad to suggest
                          A yellow sick fest”
                          Said sickly green hued Mandy.

                          :yahoo_sick:

                          That wasn’t one of your finest, dear, said Tina disparagingly.
                          Becky sighed. I need to find a Limerick support group.

                          Mandy felt better at once
                          “I feel better than I have in months.
                          You may be mad,
                          And that is sad!
                          But now I fancy some lunch.”

                          :yahoo_pig:

                          These are special Kuzhebarian Healing Limericks you know, Becky said a trifle huffily. Nobody appreciates my limericks.

                          Mr X is making some rice.
                          It’ll be ready in just a trice;
                          All soupy and wet,
                          She’ll feel better I bet
                          In a trice, at a modest price.

                          :yahoo_money_eyes:

                          “You tried”, she said with a smirk
                          “But I doubt if it will work”

                          Tina interrupted: “You tried she said with a sigh”

                          Becky sighed. I was hoping you’d smirk dear, she said to Tina. The word smirk is on my ’100 things challenge’ list.
                          Tina rolled her eyes and Becky continued:

                          “But the poppy is making me high!
                          So thanks for that!
                          I’ll eat my hat.”
                          She said, “Now I’m starting to fly!”

                          :balloon:

                          Mandy flies off down the street,
                          Smiling gaily at all she meets
                          “I’m high, I can fly!”
                          She said with a sigh
                          Of joyous delight. How sweet!

                          :yahoo_eyelashes:

                          Mongloose had a moment of doubt
                          “I fear she is still in a prout.
                          But one never does know
                          How these healing rhymes flow
                          Before long she’ll be up and about.”

                          :yahoo_idk: :heart:

                          #894

                          Master Tfark , I am pleased to hear that this mission will soon bring me what I requested.
                          — We are here to serve, Madam, answered obsequiously the chief of the magpies gang. As long as, of course, the promised payment is ready.
                          — Wasn’t the first part of the payment satisfactory? snapped the woman with an aggressiveness so subtle that no one could have said that there was even a single trace of rudeness in her voice.
                          — Yes Madam, the device you provided worked perfectly. We are eager to continue our little arrangements.
                          — Very well. Bring the Arachnid Skull quickly now.

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