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  • #1230
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      With the weak Scottish sun warming their backs, India Louise and Cuthbert made sand castles on the deserted beach. Very few holidaymakers visited The Orkneys in the days when the Wrick twins were growing up (Elizabeth was tempted to add ‘whenever that was’ but refrained) and they had the beautiful sweep of coastline to themselves, all but for their nanny, the eccentric Breton, who was sitting on a tartan blanket in the sand dunes practicing her Scottish accent. Nanny had heard somewhere that a Scottish accent had been voted the ‘most reassuring in an emergency’, and in her position as nanny, she felt it would be an advantage, especially while working for the eccentric and adventurous Wrick family.

      Seagulls squawked overhead as she recited “… pRRoid te the lowkel in-abitents und steps av bin tayken in RResunt yeers… to improve the appearance of the city …… impRRoov the appeeRents uv the citay…

      Nanny’s studies were interrupted by shrieks from the two children, who were running down to the waters edge, pointing towards an unusual object which appeared to be floating towards them on the incoming tide.

      By the time Nanny reached the children the mysterious floating contraption had beached itself on the sand. As India Louise and Cuthbert paddled over to it, a wizened and emaciated Ella Marie Tindale whooped and cackled “Hooley Mooley, that was quoot a rood!”

      Och aye, ma wee bairns, dinnae tooch it!” shouted Nanny “Ye dinnae ken owt aboot it, och! Oof, and what ‘ave we ‘ere, what eez zeess?” she said, lapsing back into her natural French accent, in a state of shock at what the tide had brought in.

      The twins became alarmed immediately, backing away and asking nervously “Is it an alien?” “Is it a ghost?” so Nanny resumed the reassuring Scottish accent.

      Nay ma wee poppets, och and it’s nowt but anoother mummay!

      Cuthbert and India Louise exchanged looks surreptitiously. “What does she mean, ‘another’ mummy?” whispered Cuthbert to his sister. “How did she find out about the mummy in the unlocked room?”

      “I don’t know!” she whispered back “Maybe she heard me telling Bill!”

      Nanny gave both of the children a cuff round the back of the neck, reminding them of their manners.

      Help ze lady off and ztop zat rude wheezpering!

      #1229

      “Is there a probable Becky still at the Serendib Facility ~ in-the-rural-mountainous-central-region-of Sri-Lanka-in-the-2030’s ~ Godfrey?” Elizabeth hurriedly included some background information in her question to appease her publisher, the erudite and enigmatic Godfrey Pig-Littleton.

      Elizabeth was amused to note that erudite was almost an opposite to rude, but as Elizabeth could vouch for, neither was mutually exclusive, as Godfrey was clearly equally at ease exhibiting both ends of the rude spectrum. But I digress, she said to herself, turning her attention to Godfrey.

      Elizabeth,” he said with a frown, “At your request I have had installed all manner of information retrieval systems, both objective and subjective, and yet you will insist on asking me questions instead of accessing the information yourself.” Godfrey shivered, attempting to wrap his velvet smoking jacket closer round his spare frame. The rich claret colour suited him perfectly, but it was clearly inadequate against the bitter cold. “Put another log on the fire, Liz, it’s colder than a witches tit in here today!”

      “Don’t be rude, Godfrey” replied Elizabeth with a sniff. “I’m too cold to move, you do it. I’ve been absolutely frozen ever since Al sent us all to the South Pole. As a matter of fact, there’s been a cold snap all over the globe, which is why” she continued “I am trying to get us all out of there and back to Sri Lanka! We don’t want to start another Ice Age, Godfrey, this has to stop.”

      “Ah, those were the days” smiled Pig Littleton. “I remember it well. It all started when Aunt Jeanne du Bappe was writing her book and wanted more ice for her G&T. Somehow it all escalated out of control, and before you could say Boo to a Goose, the whole place was covered in glaciers. A few million years later, when she’d slept off the effects of the gin, it was just beginning to thaw…”

      “Dear old Jeanne, where is she now? I haven’t heard from her for…er, aeons.”

      “Oh, she’s in fine fettle, got a job in The City you know. They say she’s quite something in The City these days, got quite a name for herself in Design & Communications.”

      “Has she now! She’s done well for herself then, last I heard she was tiling kitchens in New Venice.”

      Pig Littleton snorted. “Aunt Jeanne du Bappe, tiling in New Venice? Don’t be ridiculous, Liz, you’re getting your timelines in a twist. I expect that was one of her protegée’s, Aunt Jeanne’s been in The City for —well…”

      Godfrey was uncharacteristically stumped.

      Elizabeth wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to tease her old friend. “For how long?”

      “For a very long Now”

      “Well, I must say, that’s a fine thing isn’t it, to start an ice age and then bugger off to The City while everyone else freezes their tits off” said Elizabeth, blowing on her hands to warm them.

      “You do realize, Liz dear, that every time you mention the word Cold, or Frozen, or Ice Age, you are increasing the potential of the Ice Age in the Probability Pool?”

      Godfrey, the Probability Pool has frozen over. We’ll be skating right over the top of it instead of dipping into it, if we don’t start a thaw soon!”

      #1216
      EricEric
      Keymaster

        “Jeeze, I can’t help to be continuously amazed by BeckyAl said more to himself than to Tina who was reading silently in the room next to his.
        “She struggles so hard at times, when all she needs is a little attention…” he continued in his breath.

        “What are you moaning about again?” Tina said, who unlike Becky was paying much attention even when she didn’t look like it.
        “Moonbeams! Did you see that last entry? There was as close as moon and beams as you could get in the previous entries in the Reality Play… I really wonder why we make things so hard for ourselves at times…”

        — Well, because it’s fun, I suppose she’ll tell you… Come on, you know how she is, you don’t need to play your sumafreak labouring it to the bitter end…
        — I suspect you’re right… And who cares about randomness anyway; it doesn’t look much fun these past few days, does it?
        — Sure…
        — Like I say. Look, you don’t even barely write yourself; if I didn’t know you’re here, I would probably do with the Play like the tomatoes plant; uproot it and cut it in pieces in a plastic bag for recycling.
        — Oh, but you have to admit the bedroom looks so much better without all these creepers around the place… All for what, twenty one tiniest tomatoes?
        — Plus the last two still ripening on the cupboard, Al retorted in a sullen manner.

        After a moment of silence, Tina laid her book down, and came closer
        — Yeah, you’re right, I don’t find it very funny for the moment, especially with that shift of vowellness in the Ooh dimension,…
        — Hehe, you mean, that nasty habit of telling ‘peanut’ instead of ‘poonut’?
        — Oh yes, but not only that,… Well, it looks like all my characters are eluding me, becoming alien… if you see what I mean… :yahoo_alien:
        — Yes, I see; and I must say you’re doing great with that; Becky would faint at the mere mention of something becoming alien, Al couldn’t help but laugh. :yahoo_oh_go_on:
        — No, but seriously…
        — I know. I think what we need is some more of your inimitable talent at creating syncs. You’ve always been the connector my dear with those “magifestations” of yours.
        :creating_magic:

        She smiled. :yahoo_happy:

        — Now, speaking of random syncs, what have you got to say about that; we could create a music band :bounce: :yahoo_whistling:
        — What?
        — Hang on, here’s the band’s name: 57th Ward of New Orleans and we could call our first album… Mmm… That’s it: The Cup To Overflowing … What do you think? :agreed:

        Mmmm… that may sound weirdo, but it seems very feisty all of a sudden ! :yahoo_clown: :buffoon: :yahoo_party:

        #1212

        Franiel, dear lad, are you here?”
        The voice was sweet yet authoritative.

        “Yes, M’am. Is there anything I could do for you?”

        Franiel had been at the service of Madame Chesterhope for a few moons, but he felt like it had been his whole life. He quite enjoyed the peaceful life at her mansion, which was interestingly only seldom visited.

        He was offered food and shelter for his doing some repair work for Madame Chesterhope when she was requesting it. The rest of his time was free, and he used to go wander in the calm neighbourhoor to observe the nature which was so different from anything he had seen before. It was as though the whole countryside was by eerie mimicry perfectly suited to the strange lady with the foreign accent.

        The simple work in communion with this nature had streams of words rise inside him like seeds sprouting after a warm rain. He wasn’t sure he wanted to express them however.
        He had tried a few times to tell Lydia, but her merciless laughter alone would have nipped any of his attempts in the bud.

        One of his greatest satisfaction was to go to the ‘motorbike’ and try to figure out its functioning. Lydia had laughed at his stubbornness to try to make the old piece of junk work —by her own words, she’d rather delete the whole thing out of reality, if it was for her to decide. Luckily enough, it wasn’t for her to decide, and nobody else really cared for his attempts.

        He wasn’t seeing Madame Chesterhope so often, and sometimes she seemed gone for hexades without anyone being able to tell if she was there or not. She simply seemed to have disappeared.
        He had been buggered for a while to figure out who the “Others” she had mentioned on their first encounter were, but apparently, had said chatty Lydia who believed the lady to be completely nuts, she was referring to “TEAFERS” (said in a mock-conspiratorial tone). “Teafers?” Franiel had asked puzzled. “Ahaha, you’re so thick sometimes.” had answered Lydia almost chocking herself into gales of laughter “Thieves! She’s obsessed about thieves! I suspect she’s got some precious stuff she would hate to lose. But believe me, to be as obsessed by thieves as she is, she probably hasn’t got all this stuff willingly given to her…”

        Anyway, with all that being said about Madame Chesterhope, she remained to Franiel as much a mystery as she was the first day he’d met her.

        — “Yes. There is something I’d love you to do, sweetheart. There are people who seem to be coming, and the mansion hasn’t received that many gentlemen for a while, as you can obviously tell. I would love you to assist Lydia in preparing the ball room, and the main hall, do some fixing where it’s needed, that kind of things.”
        — “Yes, sure M…”
        — “I won’t be there the next days, so be sure to make all things necessary before I come back. I count on you.”
        — “Very well M’am.”

        #1190
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Dory, there’s no asparagus, can we go and buy some?”

          “Asparagus? Whatever for?” replied a frantic looking Dory, almost hidden behind arms full of pillows and quilts.

          “For Will Tarkin, Mac said he likes asparagus” young Becky replied.

          “Who the bloody hell is Will Tarkin? I’ve got enough to cope with trying to get ready for Granny Hill!” Dory sounded uncharacteristically flustered and impatient, and Becky recoiled slightly from the sparky energy.

          Will Tarkin is the mouse, DoryBecky said in a tone that suggested it was inconceivable to have forgotten who Will Tarkin was.

          “Will bloody Tarkin is getting a bit too big for his boots!” snapped Dory. “He’ll be wanting caviar next! I’ve got a time travelling mouse camped up behind my microwave, and Granny Hill’s frightened to death of mice; the room she was going to stay in is full of baby geckos, and you know how scared she is of lizards, not to mention the dead rat that was outside a moment ago, appearing from nowhere, and now I’m trying to get Peppy’s house across the road ready so Granny Hill can stay there instead, and none of the bedding has been washed and it’s still raining, and now you want me to take you shopping for asparagus for a MOUSE! And not only that, there are dead rhino beetles all up Peppy’s driveway, I can’t imagine why, and I’d be willing to bet that Granny Hill is afraid of rhino beetles too, so I suppose I’ll have to sweep up rhino beetles today too, as if I haven’t got enough to do cleaning up dead rats and baby geckos. Granny Hill is afraid of gas heaters too, so I’ll have to take an electric one over to Peppy’s”

          “Granny Hill sure is afraid of a lot of things, Dory. Why is she scared of everything?”

          “Good question, sweetheart” replied Dory, relaxing her energy as she brought her attention back to the moment. “She’s one of the old ones, from the Victim Mentality Days and the Age of Medical Suggestibility. They’re always afraid of everything, and Granny Hill’s a good example. Afraid of her money in case she can’t keep control of it, afraid of her car for the same reason, afraid of the food she eats in case it contains hidden poisons and afraid of the hospitals in case they’re dirty and dangerous. She’s afraid of strangers in case they have knives and stab her, even though in all her life she’s never seen a person threaten anyone with a knife, she’s even afraid of people in other countries, just in case they come and drop a bomb on her.”

          “She must enjoy being scared, then, mustn’t she?” asked Becky. “Otherwise she wouldn’t do it. Doesn’t she realize she’s creating her reality herself?”

          “Well, that was the trouble in the old days, honey, they didn’t know that back then. There’s a lot of people who still don’t know it now”

          “Wow, really?” Becky said incredulously. “That must be weirdo!”

          Dory had to laugh. “Believe it or not, neither did I for years. I keep forgetting it even now! Some of us used to say things like ‘think positive’ which wasn’t far off the mark, or ‘behind every cloud is a silver lining’, or ‘this too will pass’, that was always a good one for when you felt like it was all out of control. Alot of people prayed to gods too, thinking that their life was in the hands of the gods. I never knew much about praying myself though, we didn’t do that in our family, but it was very popular.”

          “Maybe they were asking their own essence to help, that would make sense” replied Becky astutely. “Praying probably helped.”

          “Yeah it probably did but there was alot of baggage that went along with praying, it wasn’t something you could do on your own in your own way, you had to go to a certain building to do it, and say certain words, even wear certain clothes and eat certain things. It was all very complicated, didn’t really work out in the end. The funny thing was, they were always fighting with people who prayed differently in different special buildings and who ate different special things and wore different special clothes, it was bizarre really.”

          “Who is Granny Hill anyway, and why is she coming to stay?” Becky was bored with the way the conversation was going, and curious about Granny Hill who came to stay every so often, and always seemed to rattle Dory. “Whose granny is she?”

          “Buggered if I know really, BeckyDory replied. “Every family has one, I don’t know where they come from, they sort of just appear every so often and want to come and stay for a while.”

          #1184

          “So we’ll be moving as soon as the others come back from their trip. Very well, that will be a great opportunity to see new environments for YikesVincentius acknowledged the news with his usual composure.

          “Very well then, I hope you are not too worried about Arona, but she…”
          “Not at all” Vincentius answered with a smile.
          “Oh… Okay then. Perfect!”

          Malvina added as if to make sure he had understood everything properly “So, I’ll be at my friend’s den for a few days. Georges and Salome will be here in case you need anything, and of course Buckie, though he might be a bit unpredictable…”

          “Have a safe voyage” so Vincentius, who was not of many words when it wasn’t about saying something meaningful, ended the conversation.

          :fleuron:

          To go to see her friend Yimho, Malvina wanted to look pretty —not dashing, but not looking like a country girl either. She reached for the linen embroidered dress with the zynder patterns. She loved it, it would be perfect.

          Yimho was a guy living nearby she had known briefly from her days of Sorcery training, who had a rejuvenating cave situated just under a hot spring, so that water was running almost everywhere inside the cave. On the walls, the floor, little pools everywhere. Yimho had this uncanny interest in golfindels and was telling all sorts of stuff to entertain people with; stuff that he got from tuning himself to the consciousness of the creatures.
          Malvina was thinking she would have a nice time there, though the echoes of clicking sounds throughout Yimho’s dwelling were a bit disturbing…

          #1177
          AvatarJib
          Participant

            Yann was feeling a bit uncertain of what to do next. These past few days had been evolving in an unfamiliar direction and doing familiar things like going to work, eating at more or less fix hours (the same kind of food), and even checking the mail sitting on their sofa was feeling uncomfortable.
            Most of the time, if he continued focusing on what was happening in the outside world, he was feeling overwhelmed really quickly and things he was doing at that moment would kind of escape his control… the plates would fly over if he was washing the dishes, the tooth brush would hit his gums savagely if he was brushing his teeth… Not so gentle reminder in his opinion.
            Well, all of that was making him ponder about becoming completely insane in order to have an excuse of doing whatever he wanted at the moment he wanted…
            Too tired to proof read…
            :chomping:

            #1174

            Balbina had had a quite difficult week. Feeling cold, having trouble to find sleep, not even speaking of being unable to do the kind of out-of-body travel she had managed to do last time.
            She was almost starting to doubt she could redo it again.

            Of course, the relocation at her son’s cottage was a source of much change in her habits, and although he wasn’t at home most of time, she wasn’t really feeling like she was ‘at home’. Strangest thing really, as for the time she was at the hospice she wasn’t feeling as much an alien as in this cottage. At least, at the hospice, she was in a sort of neutral environment, some place where she wasn’t undesirable (would it be asking for too much to actually be desirable at her age?). Here, the environment wasn’t neutral at all; everywhere everything reminded her of her son: his books, the posters, even the dust on the coffee table was almost looking as though it was his own.

            So she had to adjust. Contort her energy to fit —to crumple herself!— into this place, as it would be likely she would spend quite some time here. She wasn’t asking for much really, as she wasn’t able to move from the bed he’d had installed in the spare room. Ghastly room, with a creepy wallpaper from a has-been era of the past days, year 2000 or close she’d guess, gaudy as it was… oriented to the south, with hardly bearable heat during the day. She would have loved to see the coast on the north, but instead, the only window was showing her the shade of the trees, and that ominous alligator-green mountain just behind.

            If she couldn’t project in her dreams as she managed to do before, she would soon either die of boredom or of heat. She wasn’t too sure which one would be the most painless and efficient.

            She pushed the button to have her bed roll a little closer to the window; once straightened up a bit, she was able to see the passageway to the mountain. She couldn’t explain why she didn’t like this mountain; it was quite beautiful; perhaps she feared to be lost and abandoned. All the more since she could feel so much presence in this environment. Unseen presence, and trickster ones too.

            She was tired, and yawned so much her tense jaw’s muscles ached.

            On the emerald path to the forest, a moving teal wisp of light caught her attention. Funny plays of light at this hour of the day. But the wisp was persistent, and it started to move towards her.

            “Good day Balbina!”

            The crazy rabbit was back again. And… she was sleeping? In or out?

            “In or out, smell my foot, it’s your choice, and matters not
            but be quick, and come forth, for Anita and her folks this wicked way come!”

            “The tune is set, the tunnel is close
            Of playfulness you’ll need a hefty dose”

            #1172

            After he sent his reply to Yann, Yurick took a deep breathe in appreciation of all that had been done the last past days.

            However tedious, all in all, it had allowed him to stay away from other people’s trauma, and stay focused on his own issues. Now, the feeling of the energy at hand was starting to become lighter. Like a thin ray of light poking through a thick layer of rainy clouds, announcing that the silver lining was more than just a consolation. It was announcing the sun to come.

            He took the book of stories that had been unburied (like his pleasure to write) from the bottom of the sofa’s cushions when they’d received hosts last week-end, and looked with amusement at the opening note about the “random quotes”.

            A strong sense of an inkling started to dawn at him.
            Thanks to the random quotes —or more appropriately said, to convenient synchronicities— “stuff” was never lost or buried in the insides of that ever-growing story, which was eating with gluttony at the edges of its expansion. Things were popping up here and there, reminding of old loose threads, or pertinent inclusions or links to be made.

            But there was more. He, for a long time, had thought that imagination was expanding things to make physical reality look smaller in proportion than it was. Like when they’d looked at Dory’s pictures, and everything looked so big on them. Even the mere thought of nine dogs was huge. But when they’d met her, and Dan, and the dogs, it was all so much smaller. Even seeing Dory manage her dogs made having nine dogs seem manageable.
            But the reverse was true: physical reality had its way of dwarfing imagination. Not so much making it smaller, but compacting it, making it fit in an unbelievably condensed and small space.

            Take that book. Thousands of words, billions of probabilities, endless threads and hundreds of characters, all packaged in a small stack of inked paper. The trick was that when you look at it that way, when you got that small stack of paper in your hands, it all seems so manageable; one starts to get accustomed to it, then fails to see the newness in it each time it’s opened to tell a story.

            Imagination is the true gauge of the vastness of the universe. It’s so easy to forget…

            #1167
            EricEric
            Keymaster

              a hotel room in Auckland, New Zealand

              Veranassesee closed her report silently.

              What a mess it all had been. Given the circumstances, she had acted with unbelievable self-possessed strength and wit.
              She had little doubt she would be fired though. The Confregation wasn’t exactly known for their blanket acceptance of excuses for people’s short-failures —or worse, for their lack of accepting their own responsibility. Quite the contrary.
              She would be expected to resign, and even the smoldering hot and sexy Agent Gabriele’s intercession wouldn’t be seen with a complaisant eye.

              “No matter…” She had managed to keep everyone she could out of trouble or certain death, and for that she was quite proud of herself. Even if her job was most of the time to actually make sure they would meet their death more quickly. Perhaps she was getting too soft for that job.

              The phone rang abruptly cutting her off her trail of thoughts.

              “Yes?” (…) “Mmmhhh mmmh” (…) “Okay. Fine. Thank you.”

              She would be presenting her report’s conclusions at the hearing tomorrow, and then would be free to go. Start a new life maybe; or get back to Mahiliki who was for now confined with the aircraft’s pilot in one of the Confregation’s detention centers for interrogation. They’d say it wouldn’t be long; they wanted to make sure no crucial information had leaked.
              She couldn’t really pity Mahiliki; he was cute… harmless in many ways; she was sure he would be out in a matter of days,… and unsurprisingly get back to his peasant’s life on Fikitupi.

              As for herself… that may be a whole other story.

              #2030

              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

              EricEric
              Keymaster

                Some selected bits from one tag cumulo-cloud:

                — “Matter (is) dimensional energies realized”
                — “Expect Hector (to) surface, Rafaela!”
                — “Leonora gets (to) keep saying ‘play attention!’”
                — “Close rain, friend magic, hope water seeing”
                — “Far within thinking, Arona sort days, (her) hold gives human comments great meaning”
                — “Soon blue seconds, call straight (at the) door, met surely physical; notice move (of) essence (in) fat huge dreams”
                — “Universe appear (in) book story”
                — “Malvina line although familiar answered busy funny heading”
                — “Tina looked love taking lots question indeed”
                — “Word usually working (in) short shifting pooh adventure”
                — “Seems Armelle starting soft reason; strange perhaps (in the) middle (of) rolling help (one may) spot dragons’ truth past spider times”
                — “‘Tell inside reality’: three words step (to) creating”
                — “Becky, allow yourself finding single beautiful playing light, dear”
                — “Cloud impulse shall house explain surprised black connection”
                — “Cool trust(ed) friends, portal plane”
                — “Aliens coincidence next talking”
                — “Walking arms seem flight silence; stone creature sound already entered field (of) aware(ness); scene trip apparently given reading”
                — “Beyond rolled Theresa, lately cave telling unusual morning”
                — “Wortex large, merely Glo

                #2029

                In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  A moment later she fell in the pool, slipping on some loose change. The part had been a free for all, and her host had alot to answer for. lots of drinks had been given to the grey goat and mavis didn’t give a shit. she meant during the days that followed to find salome, to be able to find some meaning to the story about leonora. It was a fine day for a plane ride she thought as she waited in line feeling excited until she noticed a red working lamp advertising love, but she never noticed how much easier it was during the news. The finn connection had her smiling as she thought to try creating calm and stay present and breathe as she looked around and noticed her arms were far from normal. suddenly shhe was walking away. the goat forgotten but wrick managed to save the library which was full of fresh air known only to sri who was to sort it all out although he laughed about the wood fire of the 19 planets and she was behind herself all the way

                  (oops, said Bea, I forgot to indicate which of the words was from the word cloud and which were mine. Oh well, never mind….)

                  #1157
                  EricEric
                  Keymaster

                    “Companions, we should start an aaadventure!” Angela the White Goose stammered to her friends.

                    Freaky the Ferret couldn’t help but notice the stammering which heard like a typing typo. “Speaking of which, it’s been weeks we haven’t got any news from Arky the Aardvark, have we?”

                    “Go figure,… my bets are on an aliens’ abduction” said Weirdy the Weasel rather gloomily.

                    “Don’t tell that!” Angela’s look of horror on her face was leaving her paler than the white of her pristine white feather —if that would have been possible, of course.

                    “You know the aliens… Zey’ve started to move a few days ago… I heard the zoo-keeper tell about it” added Jobby the baby pygmy hippo with his most funny conspiratorial look.

                    “And they brought in a big lady anaconda, it came yesterday from nowhere!” Angela chimed in.

                    “Perhaps she knows something…”

                    #1150

                    Dory was often reminding herself (and anyone within hearing or blogging distance in the process) of one of her favourite catch-phrases: what you are looking for is probably right under your nose.
                    It seemed of particular relevance these days, Yurick was noticing, for a variety of reasons.

                    First, his glasses needed some dusting… He’d have to finish that monologue later then.

                    :fleuron:

                    What was he about then? Yes. The tillandsias near the window. Last week-end, they’d been to a crystal store with Yann, and mildly interested by crystals, Yurick had been wondering loudly at the heaps of strange plants in the middle of the paraphernalia of rocks, shells and starfishes. The store owner had proceeded to explain those were aerial plants, known for gathering the elements of their sustenance out of the air.
                    The curiosity would probably have ended with those quick answers, had the guy not not given them on an impulse two little specimens just when they were about to go with Yann’s newly acquired amethysts.
                    :raw-crystal:

                    Cute. New plants to interact with. Yurick had to say he preferred plants to rocks. Yann for his part had found them funny names. “Sha” for the witchy hairy one, and “Glo” for the pineapple-looking one. Why not…

                    The tilland… Well, “Sha” and “Glo” (you had to give credit to Yann for granting the reader a good respite from long unpleasant names) had been there in the bathroom for a few days, and only now had Yurick found some interest in investigating more about them.
                    The capacity they had to live apparently without any strings attached was very appealing to him, and it was like a symbol of focusing on one’s own vitality, and finding the means to live out of that elusive “new energy”; of not feeding off something outside of self.

                    Now, he was finding even more interesting facts; a picture that Yann had taken of a blooming plant recently was of the same genus of plants, and it reminded Yurick of plants which had fascinated him in a botanical garden, that were also from this species.
                    Interestingly, he found out that the plants were named after a Finnish botanist (Elias Tillandz )… He couldn’t help but notice the similarities with another focus of his: Elias Lönnrot.

                    The string of clues suddenly filling up the previously empty corridors of his mind were sparkling a renewed interest for focus hunting.

                    #1151
                    EricEric
                    Keymaster

                      Tina leaned back on her rocking chair, and ogled with an eye of pity Al who was trimming one of the plants.

                      What?
                      Oh nothing, Tina sighed… are we gonna eat any fruit from those, or shall I throw them in the bin?
                      Oh, there’s good hope we can soon have a cherry tomato wrapped in a leaf of coriander for our dinner sweetie.
                      You and your miniature cultures… She finally rolled her eyes. During Al’s trip in the Floridisles, by a strange series of nearly miraculous coincidences, the plants had stayed intact. She hadn’t watered them for the two weeks, but apparently it had not displeased them.

                      Al had told her the funny story of his grand-father watering his wife’s precious flowers during her absence with gallons of water, and literally drowning them in love.
                      She had not smiled. “Maybe I’m drowning people in my love too, they tend to get soggy these days…”
                      So perhaps her lack of attention had been a blessing for the tinsy artsy plantsaïs

                      What did they have for dinner last time? A puny ratatouille made with courgettes the size of her fingers. First time she’d wished she had bigger fingers. Nah… Al, you got to understand, people aren’t ready for nano-biotics…

                      #1108

                      “Nice cuppa, Norm, what kind is it? Doesn’t taste like Typhoo” asked Sue.

                      “Oh, it’s a herbal one I think, let me see” said Norm, rummaging in the bin for the wrapper. “Never seem to get a cup of ordinary tea these days, it’s all herbal stuff. Here it is: Siberian Watermelon and Mushroom”.

                      “Tastes quite nice” replied Sue, holding her cup out for a refill.

                      #1087
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Phlynn was late. “You just can’t get the staff these days” grumbled T’Eggy. Where was the dratted man? All she wanted was a quick leg-over before dinner, and now that Hector wasn’t coming after all, she could have spent more time with Phlynn.

                        Unbeknownst to T’Eggy, Phylnn was in the stables, struggling into his pistachio green jewel studded sari. He was late for the rendezvous in the library, and in his haste to don the disguise of a sultry voluptuous sultana, the endless yards of fabric wrapped around his long legs in a hopeless tangle.

                        #1040
                        Avatar1da
                        Participant

                          7:33:59 AM 8-19-08 ∞1da Geolocation Time.

                          days of sleeping slip by. the light on the peaks soft, golden in the cool dawn. a shiver. the water would be cold but thirst is a motivating factor. movement would mean warmth. birds flitting from branch to branch…

                          stones to perch on. river jade at my finger tips. the babble of a quickly flowing stream. scooping with one hand to drink from a clear pool, the musky scent of cedar and low water.

                          across the wide stream, a river. actually. no. the amount of water between a stream and a river. a young buck, head bent low also drinking. antlers. how are years marked again? two prongs on each side. is that two years after reaching mating age? or four. no matter. eyes latch across rapidly flowing water. we watch each other. both still, both quiet. both recognizing in each other another survival being of dreams.

                          dream memory extending into long ago. no. longer than that. the rules to colonizing a planet. simple universal rules. one band of survival beings with a limited number of nuclear families from any survival being group that wishes to expand into livable planets. set down in one place – with nothing. no food. no implements. not even clothes. if they survive they colonize. if not. well. the universe is full of tried and failed experimentation. The pulse of all that is drawn into a black hole. drawn in and back out through tunnels of light that are trapped within the black hole…

                          the fact that more than one form of survival being can attempt to colonize one planet at any given time is both an advantage and a disadvantage. they become resource for each other as well as competition – resource and competition, as is all that is within and upon the planet.

                          still that cave, that First Cave. on the tip of the continent in the southern hemisphere… blue ocean view… a beginning that is long ago. how long ago? 160,000 planet years? 200,000 thousand planet years? late arrivals as we are, this is where our colonization is now. Digging to find those memories and what is left of that initial arrival…

                          walking up this valley on the other side of a continent, an ocean away from First Cave… funny how time advances forward and backward in both directions – in all directions – and remains the same. This now is the same now as that now and remains the same in both directions as it passes around each of us.

                          the sun trickling across the tips of trees lower and lower into the valley. another half an hour and it will be in my face.

                          might as well eat breakfast while I walk. thimble berries, currents, oh! yarrow. i could make tea. – if I made fire. If I had fire… or i could make yarrow tea because i have sun. . .

                          at peace within because i know i am returning to the High Portal Cave on the mountain, near the timberline. the central entrance, near the ancient pine. The safe harbor of the High Portal Cave, the entrance to a multitude of passageways, interconnecting chambers and stunning connecting points that open beyond this time and beyond this continent – before and after this continent. probably, through the right passage way opening beyond this planet. I don’t know that, it makes sense that it does. I believe I will find out in my memory or in my future. i remember some of these things and places. not all of them. i remember entering, finding the stone trough of water with the wooden drinking bowl on the damp ledge. i remember passageways that lead to incredible places and times. why return now? without knowing i know. this is the way it is because this is the way it will become.

                          warm sun on my chest. warm from walking. birds, quiet as i approach, resume their constant foraging as i pass. along the shore the constant sound of the river stream like the white noise of the universe, beautiful and ever present so that if i am not mindful i no longer hear it.

                          a walking stick. ok, a broken branch caught between boulders. still green enough to be strong, almost as thick as my forearm with little taper and altho it is not straight, it is a head taller than i am – perfect. a walking stick. a walking staff. i work it loose from the rocks. strange markings… the hand of an intelligent being – a gift then.

                          do images become visible on these pages or only the thoughts and sights from within my mind, i wonder. i try to remember not to believe all that i think… if i wonder… then do i attempt to find out? yes, often enough, yes. and why is short hair exciting, new, a sign of adventuring? changes. oh. perhaps. or perhaps it’s a way of changing breath. I smile. I walk on.

                          #1038
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Serendib Facility, Sri Lanka ~ (2035)

                            Becky had forgotten all about her new babies now that she had the handsome and charming Gayesh in her sights. During the hot lazy days at the facility while Gayesh was working, she passed her time idly, swimming in the pool, dozing on the terrace, or randomly roaming around the Internet. Sometimes she checked Secondary Clone Becky’s blog all about bringing up triplets and coping with difficult husbands but soon got bored with such mundane affairs. Occasionally she worked on the Reality Play, and often sent reminders to Tina about the Facility , hoping that she would decide to join her.

                            Perhaps I could entice her over here with the promise of a menage à trois with the delectable Gayesh, Becky mused, rather wickedly. I’m not sure I want to write about that in the Reality Play though, she thought, perhaps I could add it to my old journals, and then send Tina a link.

                            #1809

                            In reply to: Synchronicity

                            AvatarJib
                            Participant

                              ok there are enough syncs in such a short few time that I have to write some of them :)

                              Since a few days, I have loads of them with Rome, it began with my desire to watch the series and shows it to Eric. Then something about a dream of Stacy ;;) and some pics of Rome coins Melissa sent me. And then at work, I heard someone tell another individual : “you mean you never went to Rome? Yes, I went…”

                              I play with my sister, Francie and Eric to an energy ball exchange game, and there are some interesting hits each time. The bomb sent by Francie was particularly interesting in that it was a glass of wine, and after I looked at the energy ball early in the afternoon yesterday, we went to buy some stuffs for my new wood carving hobby :p and we found something interseting about a set for carving glasses. We bought it of course.

                              At the book shop, where we found the prout syncs ;)), there was that book among the dvds… about Natural Vision Improvement by Janet Goodrich… and talking with Francie of the energy ball, I talked to her about this book and she told me about an optometrist in her city who does the same thing and that she had an appointment tomorrow!

                              Well I think that’s all that I can remember for now :p

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