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  • #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…

    #1127

    It may have been the sudden change of environment, but Leörmn had great difficulty at staying focused.
    By staying focused, he meant more than just focusing his attention and thoughts. Actually, not much more, as nothing more than his thoughts and his attention were creating of everything —his body included. When he failed to focus as he was now, usually he simply started to disappear from other’s awareness, even though he could be aware that he was still present in their proximity. For most of his activity was happening in the Unseen, and his body was unnecessary for him to manipulate that environment.

    The twin dragons, Heckle and Jeckle were equally disturbed, but to a lesser extent, perhaps because their communicating together made their de-focusing less of a concern.

    The place where they had been guided to was really unusual. Unusual for dragons at least. Even possibly hostile.

    It was like crossing that door had made them turn the physical reality inside-out, and though it was very similar on the surface, the exterior was significantly different.

    Apart from the twins, Leörmn was feeling energies, strong energies focused nearby. They were possibly as strong as dragons’ energies, though their configuration was unfamiliar.
    Where were they? What was this place?

    Leörmn was feeling so powerful undercurrents that it was very disturbing. In his discomfort, he tried to reach for a familiar energy.

    :fleuron:

    In the pool, Salome was feeling the disturbance, as it was already making the cave wobble slightly ever since Leörmn had taken off.

    Georges was having fun shape-shifting his skin to get more dolphin-like slickness, and was trying to bring her into his games, but she was caught by the demanding feeling and couldn’t concentrate on the game.

    She made a foam bubble around herself to lift her up above the surface of the water. “There… I’ve always felt better in the air.” As a matter of fact, be it only the slight gain of altitude, but her thoughts felt clearer already.

    “Oh, my… They are on the Murtuane… Georges, you knew that?!”

    Georges was having too much fun to actually physically answer, but Salome knew he was more than vaguely aware of that.

    She went deeper into herself, trying to see what was the issue… As far as she knew, the Murtuane was very closely tied to the Duane, and actions made into one of the planet had repercussions onto the other. They were close counterparts for each element, and perhaps it was the drawing closer of these which had created an imbalance of some kind.
    “Yes…” she smiled. She was seeing how it could be made easier.

    She sent to Leörmn the clearest picture she could make, then popped her foam bubble, to gracefully dive into the pool, having changed her skin to that of a black and white killer whale.

    :fleuron:

    “Thank the Elder Gods,” Leörmn thought, as he just received the warm familiar energy of Salome from deep inside himself.

    So that was it… He had to find his counterparting Nirgual, and merge with her for the duration of their little excursion here.
    N’meôrl was the name. Salome had met her already a long time ago. She was a brilliant shade of abrigot (some orange smooth fruit).

    It would be quite easy actually. Like the Dragons, Nirguals were summoned by their true name, no matter the distance.
    Blessed be Salome

    Popping back into focus, Leörmn pronounced loudly “N’meôrl, I hereby summon thy!

    When the huge bird appeared all the others who had started to assail the dragon with question were startled.

    Contrary to all appearances, Leörmn was not a dragon of many words, so very few needed to be actually exchanged. The two creatures both knew what had to be done to preserve the balance. And even if they had not known, the pressure on their energy fields was so intense that the merging was just like two magnets drawing closer naturally.

    And One again they were.

    #1114

    Inside the cave, the presence of Leormn, though not completely gone, had diminished strongly. Most of the creatures inside the cave were thriving on his presence and his continuous reshaping of the corridors or the chambers. His presence was fading out gradually, and some of the more sensitive creatures were beginning to feel a discomfort, a kind of emptiness or a sensation of cold.

    Malvina was not alarmed yet, it was a good thing he had allowed himself that little escapade. In a subtle way, he was reconciling some aspects of himself that he had been unaware of yet, and it was also a surprise to Malvina that the gates would reopen in that particular time frame, to the long lost sister of the Duane. Her awareness of what her dragon was doing was dim, and it had been so since the door had shut after the passage of Arona. This young girl had more than one trick up her mouldy cloak, and though she was unaware of most of them, she had an innate sense of using them wittingly.

    Malvina smiled at the thought that she was quite similar to the girl when she was young… a long time ago.

    But for now, she had other processes to set in motion. She focused on herself and adjusted her energy to match the signature of her friends Georges and Salome. It didn’t took long. Their presence was quite strong. As they were busy at the moment, she decided to go for a walk and meet them on her way.

    :fleuron:

    Georges and Salome were in the pool chamber that Leormn had kindly created for them inside the cave. It was continuously provided in hot water by a spring located on the ceiling and several families of glukenitch had furnished the place with the perfect amount of light…

    Georges was following her progression from a ledge made of a rock similar to granite. He’d always been fascinated by her way of expressing her grace and technical mastery in any domain. When they had met, she couldn’t swim… and she wouldn’t. It’d been years later, when she had got rid of her wariness of water that she had considered the idea.
    Now she was as comfortable inside and outside water, as well as in many different environments.

    Being continuously connected, their energy field mingled in such an intimate way, he could easily turn his attention on her physical sensations; all the tiniest movements of the water upon her skin and also all of the adjustments she was making to her body inside and outside to improve the efficiency of her movements.

    He dived off his observation point to play with her.
    Alerted by his movement, she went deeper into the pool. He knew that she hadn’t modified her body to the point of incorporating gills, because it was usually difficult for her to get rid of them afterward. She had a soft spot for apnea, though and she was quite able of staying under water for lengthy amount of time.

    Still focused on his swimming, he began to redirect certain aspects of his body consciousness. Some were unnecessary for his purpose, so he got rid of them; and he needed to give some other qualities to his skin. It took him a few seconds to shape-shift and he focused on his new physical senses to indicate him where she was.

    When she realized what Georges was doing, she resisted the impulse to go to the surface.
    What is he up to? she thought. When he’s in the process of shape-shifting his attention is so oriented inside that I can’t usually get any impression about his new shape, but

    A flash of light illuminated the water around him, and the rhythm of the blinking cells of his new skin was creating a time related pattern with an hypnotic effect. Salome was feeling drowsy and she had to maintain her attention on herself or she’d better get back to the surface soon. If she wanted to play with him now, she would have to change form too.

    #1101

    Rosemary, who played the role of Finnley as a woman, just slapped Norm in the face.
    You butcher! you scratched my nipples… you have no manners, really!

    He laughed carelessly and her impression of him as a stupid lad just deepened.

    #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

        #1048
        EricEric
        Keymaster

          When a distraught Becky had finished outpouring her verbose account, Tina drew a long much needed breathe —two in fact: one for herself, and another for Becky Pooh.

          “You see Becky dear,” Tina raising softly her voice, with her usual sweetness and poise, “Your dear Dr Gayesh should definitely read the Cosemotology Monthly Report …”
          “What are you talking about?” Becky couldn’t help but butt in.
          “Well, no sooner than yesterday they had this in-depth article on the curative properties of nettles, especially on the effects of silicate which can help rejuvenate cells… This apparently has been used to improve some cloning processes on animals. I would expect someone with advanced talents like your Dr to know that, don’t you think?”
          “Nettles? Are you sure you’re not on some better herbs than I would ever dream of tasting? This sounds like a lot of rubbish to me… And no need to roll your eyes, I can remote view you” Becky was infuriated. How could something so simple have escaped Gayesh?

          “Unless of course he doesn’t want you to leave…” Tina said again so very softly it was almost inaudible.
          “Oh, bugger with telepathy” Becky said, closing the connection to sink deeper into the ostrich feathers stuffed cushions.

          #1043
          EricEric
          Keymaster

            Serendib Facility, Sri Lanka ~ (2036)

            Becky had been strangely shaken when she saw appearing in the last word cloud “dead becky” in huge letters.
            Surely she was not scared by death, as dead was only a different term for a different life, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to croak so young!

            Perhaps she died in childbirth; after all, it wouldn’t be so surprising because then the Serendib Facility looked very much like an eerie transitioning place. She tried to remember… When was the last time people had surprised her; done something unexpected, something she couldn’t have calculated. She thought Tina perhaps… Well, on the holographic visiophone, Becky had seen her with utmost details rolling her eyes, thrice even, at the mention of the ménage à trois… But of course,… that hardly counted as a surprise.

            She was starting to freak out. Gayesh! GAYESH! she called out running in the corridors of the facility barely managing to get a bewildered look from the nurses apparently now accustomed to her antics.

            A few moments later, she was comfortably seated in Gayesh’s office, with a warm cup of coffee in her hands. Aaaah, she loved that scent, the warmth that goes right to her heart. She felt comforted. At least if she was dead, the coffee seemed real enough.

            Gayesh had taken an undecipherable look once she had told him of her… premonition. She intuitively felt that there was something he wasn’t telling.

            She almost gurgled her last coffee sip uttering to the doctor “If I’m dead, then spit it now!”

            The laugh from Gayesh came as a surprise to her. “Ahaha,” she couldn’t help but notice, “a surprise !”

            Looking straight into her eyes, he told her “Well, perhaps your premonition has some deep meaning Becky dear, but you look quite alive to me, and with a constitution like yours, likely to live till 157 years old, if you ask me.”

            Becky was greatly relieved, even though she still had the hunch that the mysterious handsome doctor wasn’t telling her all the truth. “I think that idle life is making me insane… I need to see some real dusty rocky stuff; all those projections won’t do for the rest of my life. All the more since I’m supposed to live that long!”

            Gayesh was looking more and more preoccupied.

            “What is it, dear?” Becky asked, starting to feel the pangs of angst coming back at her. (she whispered to herself some of her favourite mantras: stand behind the short wall, breathe, breathe, yes, YES, it’s not your energy…)

            “You see Becky dear,” Gayesh answered after a minute of silence, “there is still some issue with the cloning process; until we find some advanced way of doing it, the clones need some of your cells regularly to be kept in good health, otherwise, I can’t really promise Becky Tooh (that was how the clone#2 was nicknamed) a life as good as yours. That’s why I’m a bit reluctant at letting you go on some errands…”

            Well, if she’d wanted some surprise to see that she was alive, there she got more than enough, Becky thought.

            #1041
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              “I want to go home”, sighed Jose. “I just want to go home.” He sighed again as he stood looking out of the cabin. What a mess it all was. Cyclone Ycart had left a trail of mangled wreckage in her wake, but it wasn’t just the devastation on the island, it was the atmosphere, the feeling of chaos, the sense of hidden turmoil permeating the place that made him weary and homesick.

              “Ah, JoselitoPaquita whispered softly, stroking his hair gently “Why do you want to go home? What about the treatments?”

              “Oh, bugger the treatments!” Jose frowned. “I don’t think I want the treatments any more, you know.” He looked at Paqui’s face. “I never even notice your skin anymore, I like it just the way it is. I don’t even worry about my scars any more, either.”

              “I know what you mean” Paqui smiled. “I’m not worried about it either, anymore. I’d like to go home too now. The question is, though, how do we get off this god forsaken island?”

              Jose sighed again. “God only knows”

              Paqui took Jose by the hand and led him back inside the cabin. “Remember what I was telling you about the ancients dreaming together? How the tribe would dream together, plan where to go next? How they would work things out in their dreams? Let’s try it. Let’s go to sleep and when we wake up we’ll compare notes, and see if we can come up with a solution”

              Jose smiled a crooked smile, thinking that sleep sounded as good as anything else he could think of to do. Well, perhaps there was one other thing. Jose winked at Paqui as he closed the door behind them.

              :fleuron2:

              When they woke up the sun was low enough on the western shore to cast long umber shadows across the cabin floor, and dust particles danced in the golden sunbeams. Jose woke first and lay still, savouring the remnants of dream images. He felt good; the indescribable sense of having accomplished some meaningful communications with known but elusive others that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, yet couldn’t deny the validity of. It was some minutes before he remembered the plan to dream of a solution to the problem of how to get off the island, and in an instant the well-being evaporated as he struggled to recall any useful details, and frustratingly found that he couldn’t recall a thing.

              “Focus on the feeling, Joselito” a voice in his head said. The voice had come through loud and clear, a deep male voice with a hint of a merry chuckle. “Ha ha ha!” The voice boomed again, as if in response to Jose’s awareness of him. An image of dusty reddish skin, swathed in indigo blue cloth flashed through Jose’s mind, and then vanished like a particle of dust moving out of the sunlight into the shadows.

              Paqui was beginning to stir, and started mumbling. “The pool, the rock pool, there’s a cave under the pool, hold your breath it won’t be long and out the other side…” She opened her eyes and sat up. “There’s a pool, Jose, and under the pool there’s a tunnel. That’s how we get off the island.”

              Jose frowned. “Paqui, this island is in the middle of the ocean, miles from anywhere. Even if there is a tunnel, and even if it goes anywhere at all, it would take months to get to the mainland on foot!”

              “Focus on the feeling, Joselito ~ Ha ha ha!” That voice in his head again! Jose was starting to think he was going mad. Suddenly he was filled with doubts and hopelessness. Everything seemed so utterly ridiculous. God, what was he doing here on this island! Everything was crazy here. If only he could just go home!

              “Focus on the feeling, Jose.” The voice was gentle now, and kind. “The feeling will take you home”.

              “I don’t know what you mean!” cried Jose in exasperation. “How can a feeling take me home? It’s not logical!”

              Paqui smiled a wise old smile and said “If you can’t trust yourself, dear one, then trust me for now. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

              “But we don’t even know where the pool is! What if we can’t find it?”

              “Focus on the feeling Jose, and trust that we will.”

              #1028
              Avatar1da
              Participant

                12:54:07 AM 8-10-08 1da Geolocation Time.

                wait. an entire day disappears. no matter the stars and crickets go on just the same. no waiting. on this journey there are places, wind and the night. stepping through the darkness I move slowly into the moonless night.

                the driftwood shelter far away. thirst becoming noticeable. the clear water is enough for now.

                rain begins to slash down. large drops that soak to the skin in a few moments. a hard driving rain at the front of the storm. leaves thrash about as if to escape from the earth bound trees.

                Stumbling into the brush, i press close to the trunk of a tall redwood and sink down. the dust of the day remains here. even the crickets seek shelter. The shivering slows. i begin to relax, slipping into a dream.

                an island. far away. the last moments of sun warm on my skin. a rabbit the shade of pink clouds against the fading light. the cave far away from my dream as i drift deeper into sleep.

                #1023
                Avatar1da
                Participant

                  4:21:44 PM 8-8-08 1da Geolocation Time.

                  sometimes the flow climbs a mountain.

                  pause. step. quick step. pause again. step. upstream another step. the stones solid, smooth, settled beneath my feet with the timeless passing of water. the path of gravity. the rising of a mountain. a rapid, considered, going on pace. sand between the stones. the moments of time. light on the rippling waters flickering. the air transparent, timeless, crisp, cool.

                  knowing i’ve passed this way before, i pass again for the first time.

                  it’s good to be back. returning. beginning.

                  knowing my destination. the cave far above beneath the ancient pine. the boulder near the rough and gnarled trunk, slick and smooth. so hard the sense is of softness gliding with my fingers over the iridescent surface. soft to sit upon, to watch the valley far below extending forever into the distance. soft to recline upon, arcing my back. the warmth of the day in the stone, lingering far into the night to heat my bones. …knowing my destination, i take the next step into all that is new.

                  sitting near the water. deep transparent pools of green/blue. the setting red sun. a shelter beneath driftwood high on the bank. a myrtle tree draping a blanket of scent over me, opening my soul. with each breath. i watch the light fading into the words echoing through my skull… life is hard… the song…

                  Life is hard
                  Anyway you cut it
                  Life is sweet,
                  Like a berry from a tree
                  Life is temptation, baby,
                  Every single day
                  Life is hard

                  Life is funny,
                  I dont mean ha-ha
                  It‘s not always sunny,
                  When it needs to be
                  Life is frightening,
                  Nothing lasts forever
                  Life is hard

                  My time
                  Is next to nothing
                  My time
                  Falls on you, yeah
                  Everything
                  Is in motion
                  Life is hard

                  Life is precious,
                  No matter how you see it
                  Life is crazy,
                  Like yellow fishes in the street
                  Life is lonely
                  When you‘re not with me
                  Life is hard

                  Gentlemen
                  Is that you story?
                  Hanging religion
                  From a tree, yeah
                  My time
                  Is next to nothing
                  Life is hard

                  My time
                  Is next to nothing
                  My time
                  Falls on you, yeah
                  Everything
                  Is in motion
                  Life is hard

                  My time
                  Falls on you, yeah
                  Life is hard
                  Life is hard

                  – J. Mellencamp – while on the planet earth.

                  ok. life is also beautiful. – 1da

                  it’s a cruel crazy beautiful world – J. Clegg – also while on the planet earth.

                  stars flickering in the fading twilight. the silence of a light breeze as pine boughs begin to whisper. the ache of tall trees swaying in the night with a moan like countless masts on the tall ships of a planet. blink. and i sleep.

                  #1019
                  Avatar1da
                  Participant

                    1da stood on the shore. amazement splattering awe across his universe. he knew as a seeker he had to return. his journey beginning once again, he watched closely as he stepped from stone to stone along the pathless shoreline of the clear water stream. the scent of cedar and low water rocks covered in moss penetrating deeply with each breath, he smiled… his return and arrival on this planet far into the valley he always and forever would returned to because it was the center of his seeking, he found the depth of his awareness opening…

                    “wait. which planet is this again? of the 19 it has to be one of my favorites.”

                    “timing is everything.” the whisper of the universe

                    “damp drats. missed again.” he replied to the babbling waters.

                    “greetings all ye who enter upon my existence.”

                    – 1da – as in the number 0ne (1) & da as in the smallest particle of nothingness. 8-07-08 …because of course 1da watches from a distance. planet geopositioning time being 4:27:42 PM in about the middle of the Pacific Pond.

                    #1006

                    Bea sighed loudly, and dragged a tissue across her sweaty face. Leonora obviously hadn’t heard her, so Bea sighed loudly again.

                    What’s up with you now? asked Leo, who wasn’t really paying attention to Bea’s incessant whining.

                    Oh I dunno, I just don’t know what I want to do, Bea grumbled. My head’s in a fog. I’ve got hundreds of ideas, but I don’t want to do any of them badly enough to even think about starting anything. So then I try to sort a few thing out, you know, so I can bloody find things again, and I just end up with a big pile of bloody miscellaneous. It’s the bane of my life, all the miscellaneous stuff that defies categorizing. I should have been called Miss A. Laneous. I start to sort things out and then I get sidetracked; I never finish any sorting out, I just end up with more and more miscellaneous….her voice trailed off miserably.

                    Leo swiveled round in the computer chair, took off her glasses and glared at Bea. Bea, you know you always find what you need by trusting that you’ll find what you need when you need to find it. You’ve told me that time and time again. You’ve droned on and on about that, how you love finding ‘just the thing’ and ‘by accident’ and now you’re sitting there moaning and groaning because for some inexplicable reason ~ Leonora rolled her eyes ~ you think that having things neatly ordered would be a better way.

                    Well, it would be nice to be able to find what I’m looking for, Leo, Bea retorted.

                    Well if you found what you were looking for right away, you silly cow, you wouldn’t find all those other magical bloody surprises by friggen accident, now would you?

                    There’s no need to be rude, Bea said sniffily.

                    Now it was Leo’s turn to sigh. Why don’t you bugger off outside and find something to appreciate, you grumpy old bat. “Oh! look at this, Bea!” Leo exclaimed, “Look what I just found by accident!”

                    Leo swiveled the computer screen round so that her friend could see.

                    Illi sat up and surveyed her surroundings. The sky was a deep azure blue, the sun was making twinkling stars on the waters of the lagoon, a warm gentle breeze rustled the coconut palm leaves, and birds sang and twittered in the foliage. It was indeed idyllic, and Illi decided to simply enjoy it, while her new ideas formed into a reality.

                    Illi was enjoying a new found freedom in her contentment, in not pushing her energy in frustration, and meandered happily around the island taking mental snapshots of a thousand delightful and marvelous wonders, appreciating even the smallest most insignificant things. Time lost all sense of meaning: there were deep velvet indigo skies full of sequins, and there were abstract multicoloured sunrises and sunsets; there were cottonwool clouds in cartoon shapes suspended on a canvas of blue. It mattered not the day or night; there was no longer a sense of time passing, just a glorious collage of appreciation and beauty.”

                    Bea read the excerpt reluctantly, and harumphed.

                    Oh for Gut’s sake, Bea! Leo was getting exasperated. Try appreciating miscellaneous floundering fog then.

                    #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…”

                      #972

                      The world at large seemed to be going out of whack, and yet, all things seemed more and more perfect to Yurick when he was observing how these sudden surges of unsettling energies where only skin-deep —unless of course people wanted to make them out of proportion, and have their fair share of drama.

                      It was after all, only a matter of vibration. It could be as easy as noticing the least tension in his body, and releasing it as soon as noticed. It didn’t have to be big; small improvements were actual improvements, and really, all that ever mattered.

                      So, on the whole everything was fine, and he was surprised at how much, despite the sometimes dreadful incidences that had reared their ugly heads the past few weeks, people he knew had been able to cope with them, and no less than embracing these usually deemed “ugly” extensions of people’s own vibrations.

                      Noticing a slight tension in his solar plexus as Yann was telling him some little flowers where appearing on the cherry tomato plant, he released it with a grateful sigh…

                      #906

                      Armelle was aware that everybody would be there in any minute now…
                      The one who had come from the wortex wouldn’t hold long in the middle of these huge creatures. He had managed to injure or even kill a few of them, but though he showed no trace of fatigue yet, his body was bruised.

                      Ah, she sighed, feeling herself on the brink of doing something stupid. Taking a few deep breaths, she hold them until one could see the beautiful snowy owl starting to inflate like a rubber balloon, her size became twice, or thrice bigger than usual.

                      In a few minutes, she was as big as the mythical thunderbirds of the Native myths.

                      Taking a look at her waist, she sighed again. Hope I won’t get any stretch marks…

                      She then pounced on the heap of fighting bodies, and came back in the airs holding Claude in her talons.

                      #902
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Blimey O Riley, said Becky when she read what she’d written the previous evening. As she read it over again, though, a picture began to form in her mind, a character was starting to form.

                        I was connecting to a focus, she surmised, A focus as a simple country washerwoman. A simple person, choosing to experience a life of simple pleasures, not bogged down with deep meaningful thoughts or ideas; not striving for insights or accomplishments, a pure and simple life for a pure and simple soul.

                        The washerwoman used words differently, she didn’t use words to communicate with anyone, she simply used the bubbling gurgling endless stream of sounds to amuse herself…endlessly babbling, always smiling, infinitely amused with the sheer joyous nonsense of the sounds tumbling from her lips, broadcasting seeds of absurdity in the cornfields and the meadows of the hay hoo down dooly…..

                        #893

                        The day had been long. Actually, from an outside perspective he had been apparently sleeping almost all of it, so it was not appearing as if it could be a really exhausting day at all.
                        But Al had been extending his body researches in the subjective. He’d started to play again with his various dream bodies he had known the existence of for quite a while now, though he hadn’t yet found the time to experiment with them fully enough. An idea he owed to Sam, who he had been pleased to hear about his unusual experiences in the Australian bush, or more accurately, in the Dreamtime.

                        Playing with these various “bodies”, or qualities of attention and perception, he was aware that his thoughts on the recent events occurring in their story was still unfolding in the backstage of his attention. A rehearsal perhaps…
                        Nevertheless, he was delaying the actual representation, for he felt he was not yet ready for it.
                        He could feel lots of information waiting for him to download them and process them. But he wanted to do it with clarity.

                        Last try had not been very convincing… He had dreamt of a midget Tina, in a flowing mauve and lemon chiffon dress. Of course, in the dream he had taken great care of not hurting her feelings, all the more since she seemed so fond of the dress. He couldn’t really tell her that the dress was giving her an enormous butt and that she was rolling her hips comically when she was walking… Impossible…
                        While dream-Al was searching for words to truthfully convey his appreciation of whatever little thing that could be left to appreciate on that dress, dream-Sam had been quick to tell dream-Tina she looked like fairy Nuf. What had he said! She soon started to weep noisily. Fairy Nuf, as anyone knew, is a purple-clad plump grumpy fairy, with a pointy hat and she couldn’t possibly look that bad.
                        Speak about clarity…

                        Al tried again to concentrate. Taking deep breathes.

                        He could feel more and more clearly the presence of the woman. Her aura was beckoning, and she seemed to want to share information with him —pieces of information he would be free to tell others or not, it didn’t matter.
                        What mattered was that there was this deep desire for this information which was coming from him; and equally as deep as his, her own desire to share was palpable.

                        Salome ” he whispered “ I am ready to see
                        He soon started to fall into another lucid dream…

                        #888

                        Franiel lifted the metal latch and pushed open the creaking door of the old shed. In the darkness he could make out of the shape of boxes and other various objects, then, as his eyes became more accustomed to the darkness, he saw the motorbike propped up against the far wall.

                        What are you up to young man?

                        Franiel jumped and spun around. It was Lydia, just returned from her journey to the market.

                        Oh hello again! You startled me … Phoebe suggested I check out the motorbike, see if I can get it going.

                        Lydia looked grave. Did she now? Well it’s been many a long year since that piece of junk worked. Anyway so you’ve met Madame Chesterhope then, and what did you make of her? She was giving Franiel that deeply penetrating stare again. Franiel wondered kindly if perhaps she was shortsighted.

                        Oh very nice … and I met Vincentius the parrot too.

                        Lydia chuckled. Did you now?

                        Yes, actually Phoebe told me a rather unusual story.

                        At that Lydia broke into gales of laughter. Let me guess, about mixing the aura and the egg?

                        Yes, that’s right, replied Franiel, his face breaking into a smile too as he realised the absurdity of it.

                        Lydia wiped the tears of laughter from her face. ’Ere Lad, I told you things are not what they always seem. She thought for a moment. I’m parched from my long walk, I am going inside to make a brew. Why don’t you join me? If you are going to be stopping then there are a few things you need to know.

                        #883
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Becky arrived at the cafe twenty minutes late, looking breathless and disheveled. Scanning the room with a wild eye, she spotted Tina engrossed in a magazine in a booth in the far corner. Flopping down on the leatherette seat, Becky ran her hands through her hair and said Holy Moly, Tina, I don’t know whether I’m coming or going.

                          BREATHE, replied Tina, in a deeply resonant voice, a trifly mischeivously, Becky thought. Breathe into YOU…..

                          Oh bugger off Tina, Becky said affectionately. Thanks for coming at such short notice.

                          Well, out with it then, Becks, what’s the panic this time? What fine pickle have you got yourself into now?

                          Becky glanced surreptiously over her shoulder, and then leaning over the table whispered to Tina, Promise you won’t tell anyone? Not even Sam and Al?

                          Tina frowned. Not even Sam and Al?

                          Seeing Becky’s crumpled face, Tina quickly agreed, saying, Oh alright then, but what’s the big secret? Not that there ARE any secrets….

                          Yes there bloody well ARE secrets Tina, and this is one of them! Promise not to tell ANYONE!

                          Alright, alright! Calm down and spit it out, for Gawds sake! Tina said.

                          Remember when I was in the park? In that tarty nun outfit? Becky continued, in a loud whisper.

                          How could I forget?

                          Well, something happened! In the bushes, with this guy, a guy from the future, a time traveller.

                          Tina raised one eyebrow in disbelief.

                          It’s no good looking at me like that Tina, I’m telling you it happened. And what’s more, I’m pregnant, and he’s the father.

                          Tina’s mouth fell open in surprise, and then she said, You TART! You haven’t been married a week! You haven’t even been on your blimmen honeymoon yet!

                          Well, actually, replied Becky huffily, Don’t you think it’s kind of cool?

                          What happened then, Becky, do tell! Tina was intrigued.

                          And Becky proceeded to tell Tina all about it, first entreating her again not to tell anyone.

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