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  • #801

    The cold wind was blowing upon the marshes. The atmosphere was damp and dark with threatening gray clouds. A storm was approaching and Asiir was dreaming.

    Her dreams were so strong that they were triggering many emotions in her rider. Since their bonding seven years ago, their link had grown stronger and Lola wouldn’t think of shutting it down even in those uncomfortable moments. They were one.

    Lola was feeling a menace, some undefined threat coming with the storm, as if the storm was just the visible counterpart of what was preparing. In those moments, Lola couldn’t help but think of her family and her village… Her fist grasped tightly the grip of the sword she was holding.

    Everyone was killed when she was nine. Her dragon wasn’t fully developed at that time and couldn’t help her save her people. All Asiir could do was shield her from them as she was shielding herself, not even thinking of it.

    She sighed deeply, releasing the pressure of the storm and of the dreams. She’d learnt not to hold on the powerful emotional responses but to open herself as a channel of her dragon’s dreams. All she could do was let the energy flow through her. Was it Asiir creating the storm or the storm disturbing Asiir’s dreams? She wasn’t aware of the answer yet, but at times it had bothered her to think that her dragon could cause “bad things” to happen.

    A chilly breeze and a surge of electricity. She grinned impishly.
    It was the time of her lesson.

    You’re late master. she thought to the shadowy figure behind her. She was feeling something different that day in the presence. You’re not alone. I can feel a different energy with you today…

    The dragon growled in her agitated sleep.

    Your emotions are dragon drenched again, Lola. I know you consider it a proof of your connection with your beast, but it may be far more damaging than you think.

    Lola had felt a twinge at how Samira had called her friend, she was feeling her emotions rise dangerously to the point which she had learned she could not control herself. She had always wondered if Samira was seriously considering dragons as beasts or if she was teasing her, especially since she had let the connection develop in such a way.

    You’re going to have a new teacher…

    Lola’s heartbeat accelerated slightly, so slightly, but she could feel her mentor’s smile upon her interrogations. Was she leaving? She’d always dreaded such a moment. She felt the wry expression of Samira.

    I’m not going away… you need a training that I can’t give you. You need to learn how to ride properly over your bond and not get consumed by it, and Noraam can teach you that.

    A strange impression of connection with the new energy flew in her, making her feel quite uneasy. Such an intimacy was unusual with another human energy. Or was he human?

    A sudden surge of energy made her wince. She turned to her mentor and was surprised to only see Samira in her stout armor. She could feel the strength of the other energy but she couldn’t give him a form. She was feeling nudged gently from many directions at the same time and realized that she was afraid of loosing her bond with her friend. Wasn’t she trusting her bond? Another chill, and the rain started falling.

    You won’t really need all that Samira taught you during these last 4 years

    The inner voice was almost inaudible, but still she could feel it was not a voice and that the communication was going through another pathway. The vegetation of the marshes and few rocks were shifting to an unnatural yellow tint, and the faint glow around her teacher was growing in intensity. Actually, all the objects around her was beginning to glow, the limits of their shapes were collapsing.

    Lola was sill feeling the link with Asiir but it was thinning down in such an unfamiliar way.

    I’m going to help you remove the veils that Samira helped you put on your consciousness when you first met. But first you need to renew the link with yourself.

    She heard a vague sound of steel on the ground… had she lost her sword? She couldn’t feel her body. She couldn’t move as she was used to… but was it still something to move? The face of a man was forming in the energy patterns of the glowing clouds. Was he close or far away? Was he huge or of human size? Was she massive?

    A pounding sound in the distance of her inner ear… a familiar call but she was still so far.

    #769
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Hang on a minute, Sam said to the Nanaconda. I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve dealt with this bucket of dung.

      The rainbow Nanaconda raised her eyebrows (or gave the impression of that facial expression, at any rate).

      As Sam tipped the bucket out, hundreds of dung beetles scurried in every direction.

      Whoa! exclaimed Sam, taking an involuntary step backwards.

      Nanaconda sniggered in a somewhat sinister fashion and said, Ah, the Symbolic scarab beetles strike again.

      As Sam stood transfixed by the sight of the beetles running in all directions, an extraordinary thing happened. All the beetles stopped moving, as one, and then with a seemingly united purpose, they all started moving in the same direction. Within seconds a long black army of dung beetles marched off across the field.

      Sam picked up the empty bucket and followed them.

      Nanaconda followed him, grinning wickedly.

      #752
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        India Louise , standing in the draughty upstairs hallway outside Bill the artist’s bedroom, jumped out of her skin as Nanny Gibbon rushed down from her room on the third floor shouting, OCH AYE THE NOO! There’s a moose loose aboot the hoose!

        Nanny Gibbon stopped abruptly when she saw India Louise.

        Och, lassie, and what are you doing here in the wee hours of the night?

        Er…..India had to think quickly. She couldn’t tell Nanny that she was hoping to tell Bill about the mummy that she and Eugenia had found in the unlocked ‘Locked Room’, so she said: There was a moose in my room! It went that way! she said, pointing up the stairs from which Nanny Gibbon had just descended.

        OCH! The hoose is infested with moose! What’ll we doooo?

        India Louise looked up at Nanny Gibbon quizzically. What was with all the ‘Och Aye’s’? Nanny was from Brittany, not Glasgow, what was the matter with her? Then India recalled the Scottish Dialect classes that Nanny had been attending…..obviously with a good deal of success.

        The truth was that Nanny Gibbon was terrified of mice (which is how non-Scots pronounce moose); she suspected a reincarnational drama involving moose, er, mice, was the root of it all.

        India was trying to think of something helpful to say (and congratulating herself on her quick thinking, although she regretted adding to Nanny’s alarm) when a shriek came from the direction of Cuthbert’s bedroom.

        Nanny and India Louise raced along the corridor and banged on Cuthbert’s door.

        OCH AYE, what NOO? Are ye alright, ma wee bairn? Open the dooor, Cuthbert! Nanny cried.

        A pale trembling Cuthbert opened the door. I had an awful nightmare! I was reading our book, you know, the funny one with the blank pages, and I turned into a wolf

        Och, there, there, ma wee laddie, there’s nay a wolf in the hoose, it’s a moose!

        Cuthbert looked up at Nanny and said, rather rudely, Are you alright? Why are you talking like that?

        #703

        So you have requested audience… a deep voice, hoarse as a water’s torrent running and jumping on a river bed smothered with pebbles, asked from the darkness.

        Midora was not afraid of the darkness. As best as she could explain it, it was the void of creation, where everything came from, and where all was stripped of intrinsic meaning. It was from this place that she could reach for the answers.

        She knew this place, she felt memories swirling around, as uncatchable as a swarm of short-lived sparkles born from the reddish embers of a dying fire.
        In this lifetime, she was only a eleven year old girl, but she was as old as this voice within her. There was a time where she was playing with that voice, a time where her being was not yet, and yet a time which was in her future.
        She was pure consciousness in that dream time space, and yet, she was feeling more comfortable with physical symbols around herself. So she focused on one of the symbols that she knew would help her stabilize her vibration, and in doing so, all the small particles of golden light around her started to swirl and coalesced into a dream body.

        She was in front of a cave, in a mountainous area. This body provided her a slowing down of the stream of information that came to her, and she could manipulate more efficiently the interaction with that huge presence she felt. The precipitous rocky environment was a symbol of that steadiness and slowing down and also, for her benefit of her beliefs in that acquiring such information might be a difficult task.
        Now she had identified it, she could more easily dispel the obstacles on the path to the cave. The cave of course, was her symbol for reaching into her deep inner nature. And the darkness was only a fitting blank canvas for herself to project and translate the energy interactions.
        All of that she knew, as it was knowledge embedded into herself that she could more easily access into this trance-like state, in her room in that location in space and time of 2112 in New Venice. And she knew that also for she was taught by her parents, Bart and Oscar, on how to access it.

        The voice was inside the cave. And no sooner had she thought of it that she was finding the whole place morphing into a vast room built into the rock, in the middle of which a majestic golden dragon was slowly breathing.
        She had translated the vast energy as that of a dragon, but she knew when she felt into it that it had possible variations, one of which being that of a she-phoenix, of various sizes, where sizes where symbolic of its age and wisdom.

        You may call me Naasir the dragon grinned at Midora. You are right, in a sense, you can consider yourself being born from me, though in your true form, you are equally august and splendid as I am. You will, in time, have access to that form, again. But for now, I can provide some answers to your questions. The only thing is… Are your questions up to the challenge? he added with the most benevolent smirk his wide toothed grin could convey.

        Midora pondered for a moment, beholding the perfection of her translation of the energy. Each scale on the body of the dragon was a work of art. His half-closed eyes, with an amber shiny center, and teal border were equally mesmerizing.

        :fleuron:

        — What is the significance of these books I have inherited from my parents?

        As you know, this place is the place were significance fades away, or radiates, depending on the direction in which you look, only to be replaced by fulfillment. Your… books hence, have no significance, I would say, for me at least. What do you want to know about them?

        — They were passed from people to people, and as far as I understood, they started to be imprinted with these people’s stories, starting from my grand-parents Indy and Cuthbert. But there are still blank pages inside them, and no seeming order from one page to the other. I think that’s why my grand-parents grew tired of it.

        Continue…

        — What I mean is… I feel attracted to them, and yet I don’t understand how they work…

        These… are not mere books as your ancestors understood them. In fact, they were crafted by a distant civilization, not denizens from this dimension in which you are presently focused, but travelers, with whom you can still interact by means of this device. When the “books” traveled into this dimension, they retained their initial properties and functioning, but their initial shapes were translated into something as close as you could understand so that you would allow them to appear into your reality. This knowing might help you unravel their true nature.

        Another thing. Books are energy deposits, in your reality. There was a misunderstanding in that they were thought to be able to liber or to free your memory by imprinting it into the pages, but memories are alive and not separate from you. They live as you live and change them. So, the books are still being written, and that which you can read is the part of the book which is the most probable story in which you choose to insert yourself, so as to explore it. You can alter these probabilities, even if you might doubt it, but as you chose them, they are much a part of your design of your reality, that which you chose to explore. In short, a complete book means the end of your exploration, and prompts for a disengagement for you to continue other explorations, and on the contrary, a blank books means a boundless realm of probable explorations.

        — Can you tell me why there are two of them?

        They are more than a couple. These ones are the only known ones that your ancestors happen to have found. Most of them have been destroyed over time in this dimension, as their possibilities were heavily cloaked. They are all linked together, as you will find out. You may gather some answers in finding Badul

        And with that, Midora was once again floating in an intermediate state hung between space and time, longing for her physical body. She woke up strangely energized…

        #699
        Jib
        Participant

          Georges and Salome’s journal

          From Georges’ account of his first encounter with Shu Lom Agamon. Part III

          We were now at the center of the structure formed by these twelve gates.

          The energy currents of the different families involved in this exchange were almost palpable. I could allow my attention in whatever direction I wanted, and I was aware of different essences of the nine families of our dimension of origin. Salome was here with me, but not as objectively involved as I was, yet. She was supportive of this even as were the other essences. And I could feel other family structures involved in other dimensions. We were at the center of a multidimensional portal between all the dimensions, and I was focusing my main attention to the twelve gates of Alienor. I was aware of our different threads of attention in this area of consciousness, the one in which I was drawing to myself informations about the Alienor dimension, and the one in which Shu-Lom was drawing informations about our own dimension.

          I was perceiving the gates in a certain order that was relevant in one particular exploration. The structure was directly springing from myself and I could feel that the structure that would be perceived by Shu-Lom would be quite different and individualized. The structure I was aware of in a particular dream was facilitating of certain informations, and even though there was a particular arrangement of the families in the Alienor dimension, between the dreams, and depending on where my attention was focused, the gates were reorganizing themselves.

          Most of the time, I had the Almadar energy “behind” me, and the Meshran vibration before me. It was connected to my particular intent in the exploration of that dimension as a focus, and as essence.

          Shu-Lom was more aligned with the Taa’Maroo and the Ulemjel families, the Holders and the Keepers. He explained to me that it was connected also to him being one of what I could only translate as “Guardians”. Those Guardians were strongly connected to the Taa’Maroo intent…

          [the rest of the account is yet to be decrypted]

          #686
          Jib
          Participant

            Its energy was different, new aspects were present now, and they were opposing in a way to the ones the snoot had noticed before.
            The snoot was puzzled and amused, it could remember a time when it was familiar with similar aspects… were they coming to the forefront again?
            It hadn’t felt them though. It was so sudden, but the snoot was curious about itself and it was amazingly blazing in its perception.
            The snoot added some colorful vibration in the surrounding environment, it felt its vibrational quality merging with the one of its forest self and its earthly being and it moved its attention to the most protective aspect. It was buzzing its interest to it and telling it how wonderful it was. The quality was slowly shifting.
            And then a swirling and not so physical aspect began turning around this one. The snoot was surprised at the ease with which this one was moving, and the directions it was opening to the protective one. The snoot was usually expressing quietness and a kind of slowness of time, though it was feeling the acceleration and it was feeling its own quality change.
            The change was quite funny as the snoot was beginning to narrow its focuses.
            It chose the mergence.

            #665

            Fine weather in Hawaii , he thought after the plane had landed at the Honolulu International Airport. He’d been offered an Orchid lei but didn’t really pay attention to it, almost discard it. Who had given it to him. He had no idea. Though the flowers were real now, and the smell was quite pleasant.

            A man was waiting for him outside of the airport. Japanese breed.

            Mr Langlade? My name is Isashi Mamoru. Aunt Alana was expecting you this morning.

            Robert Langlade wasn’t here to apologize. She was the reason of his presence here, well what she possessed actually. The sooner he would meet her, the sooner he could continue his quest.

            He got in the red car, and waited for the man to close the door.

            :fleuron:

            Harry was looking at his daughter walking on the beach with her new friend. She’d lived with her mother in Arizona since she was born and she was only visiting him on holidays… when she had time. She had a western style and he wouldn’t have changed her, it was her choice. He’d wanted to change his own when he was her age, more trouble than he had expected. But it was another life, it was another Harry. He was not from Hawaii himself though he was born here. His family was originating from Korea. His path had moved him away from them for many years. He eventually came back, but he was different now.

            This evening he was feeling melancholy. 58 years old. What was the purpose of his choices?
            His daughter that he called Makana, seemed happy with her friend. She’d told him she’d met him at a conference in Boston last December. But he was not very present to his perception. Though he respected her choices again.

            Alana had told him about an old friend of his. She’d warned him. He was there to take something sacred. She had fear in her eyes.

            :fleuron:

            Narsila was swimming swiftly, following the direction of the calling. She knew others of her kind had heard the signal and were heading toward its origin. It was one of these emerging rocks where the humans had chosen to live.

            The call was not directly connected with them though. It had been activated from another dream.

            #653

            Mavis had not yet received any news from her friends Sharon and Gloria. She’d hoped she could have some postcard from them before she goes and join them…

            Nearly two months… Two months since they had all received the exciting email from that Dr. Bronklehampton and had decided to take a leap of faith.
            As a matter of fact, they had taken that leap of faith just before, and it was just a… “synchronistic confirmation that they were heading in the right direction”, that’s what old Harry had said… Or was it Joe? No, that was surely Harry.
            Fred wasn’t very pleased.

            Bored by all the variations of dominoes and dices games at their third-age club, the three inseparable ladies had decided, in a bout of delightful unreasonableness, to embrace all that modern technology had to offer. Sharon and Gloria, being the devil-may-care as they were, got their computer first. Mavis had to convince Fred that he could make his horse-racing bets with that computer without having to go to the city, now that the last pub in the village wasn’t taking bets any longer… and even play poker! she’d said, bluffing so vehemently that she’d almost blushed in shame for fear of being wrong. But that last argument had convinced old Fred. And now, she was connected too. A second-hand computer, with a dusty old keyboard, but she’d let it soak a night in a soapy basin, and it was now shiny as a brand-new one. Except that it now kept behaving strangely…

            In their club, they could boast that now they were connected all over the word, and all the old parakeets of the club had almost choked over their tea when they had heard all of what they had discovered.
            Sharon had won most of the glaring bedazzlement. Wearing newly bought sunglasses, she’d said whispering like a conspirator that she had searched her name on a website and she had seen more than 7 million pages talking of her! Imagine! More than seven million people talking of her! And she had not known she was so famous… Hence the sunglasses, she’d added with a wink… there were probably a slew of paparazzi hidden somewhere to discover all that was to know about her… But you can’t fool dear ol’ Sharon Stone.
            Gloria Fowles had been gathering almost 4,000 pages… But well, she had not the charismatic aura of Shah.
            And Mavis Staples had got a hefty 470,000 pages!… Of course, she had not told Fred, who was already so paranoid about all of this stuff. When they had received the machine, he was convinced there were miniature cameras and transponders from the MI6 inside the PC and had spent hours disassembling and reassembling it.

            Very soon after they had registered for their free email address (the reseller had explained patiently that she couldn’t electrocute herself while licking the envelop), the next day to be precise, at 5:33 —that was the hour when Mavis had finished her routine dusting and breakfast preparing for Fred, and just before taking Gulp, the dog for a news reading (that was what Sha was saying “butt sniffing for dogs, is like news reading for us”), she had granted herself a little peek into the emailbox— she had seen something in the recipe folder.
            She wasn’t sure why they had called that folder “meat” or “ham”… no that wasn’t “ham”… “SPAM” more like it… Anyway, in the recipes folder, she’d received her first email. She’d called eagerly Sha and Glo, and they had received it too, and had even answered it already, as they had spent the all night “surfing” as they said — which was a bit difficult for Sharon with her sunglasses in the dark.

            All three of them had received a free coupon for a massage and therapeutic rejuvenating treatments (and possibly some bonus organ enlargements free of charge) in Tikfijikoo Island!

            Well, now Mavis was ready to go too, now that Fred had been mollified and she’d gathered the money for the trip.
            In a sense, that was good she’d not received anything yet from Sha and Glo, it would allow her to imagine the wildest things!

            #1634

            In reply to: Synchronicity

            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Sir Edmund Hilary died today (11/1 2008). Sir Edmund is a famous and well loved Kiwi, known mostly for conquering Mt Everest with the Sherpa guide, Tenzing (in May 1953 when he was 33). Within NZ his death is a big thing, he is like people’s hero, and their friend. :yahoo_rose:

              Mount Everest, world’s hightest mountain, is 8,850 metres high. It rises a few millimetres each year due to geological forces. Mount Everest was named after Sir George Everest, the surveyor-general of India who was the first to produce detailed maps of the Indian subcontinent including the Himalayas

              When I first heard that he had died, a voice in my head said “he was 88”, although I was not aware of knowing his age. Anyway yes he was 88.

              Well , also this morning I was walking along thinking about the nature of synchs. I looked at a car number plate. It said HONEY B (honey bee). I thought well that’s unusual, but it’s not a synch is it? yet sort of knew somehow it was going to be, Tracy and I talked about it later. What about BRB I thought, that would be a good synch. The very next car was BRB.

              Anyway just now I learned that Sir Ed was a Honey Bee-Keeper.

              oh another synch! welll he was the only living NZer to be on a money note – on the $5 note – FUN number :face-grin: He was fun, he achieved great things, and humanitarian things, but for fun, because he loved it.

              A 2.3-metre (7.5 ft) bronze statue of Sir Ed was installed outside The Hermitage hotel at Mt Cook village, New Zealand, in 2003. :face-wink:

              a few quotes:

              • “We knocked the bastard off” – announcing he and Tensing had reached Everest’s summit to life-long friend George Lowe
              • “I thought, ‘well Ed, me boy, we’ve done it’.” – on reaching the Polar Plateau after leading the first vehicles overland in Antarctica to the South Pole (in 1957) and wondering “whether I was heading in the right direction”.

              (hahha i am watching a doco about his life as I write this, they just said that after reaching the summit and hugging, and leaving some chocolate and a cross for the gods, that ……… after a quick pee, they went down for some hot soup ahahhah pea soup synch :yahoo_straight_face: )

              Like the old abbot Hrih Chokyam Lin’potshee, Sir Ed loved the mountains and went “higher than anyone had ever been on the top of the mountains” Hrih, Eric’s comment

              wow i just noticed the new quote of the day well it is about India Louise and Hilarion Wrick. Hillary’s first wife, Louise, and daughter, died in 1975 in a plane crash on the way to India. They were just talking about it on the documentary, and how profoundly it affected Sir Ed’s life, when I noticed the new quote.

              —Just flow with the story my little one, don’t hold on too much, or you will find it too difficult, and you will stop to find fun in it. ~ Lord Hilarion Wrick

              more

              #627

              Franiel offered his congratulations to Aum Geog along with the others. He did not mind that he was not himself chosen to succeed Hrih Chokyam, and neither would he have expected it, however he felt the physical absence of the Old One keenly. His powerful presence had cloaked the whole monastery in a sweet warmth, and even though Franiel had only been there a short while, he had felt close to the Old One. Of course his spirit will always be here, but the same time Franiel knew change was inevitable, and he was unsure of his own place within the boundaries of the monastery. Happiness and fun were valued highly by Franiel, they were more important to him than all the spiritual ideals others would speak of, and he had felt a slight greyness of late. He found humility difficult and did not enjoy following rules, neither did he enjoy listening to the wisdom of the other brothers. At times his sense of humor would cause them to frown upon him. He knew the Old One had understood this, but now he was gone he wondered how he would fit. He pulled out the note Jog Lam had given him from Hrih Chokyam, Listen to your heart…. it began. What was his heart telling him?

              Brother Franiel!. He heard the voice of Aba Tane calling him. The Brothers were shortly meeting to hear Aum Geog speak, presumably to announce the new direction for the monastery.

              Brother Franiel, Aum Geog has requested you take this chalice to the Village, so the silversmith may engrave it with these words. Aba Tane handed Franiel a cup, and a piece of paper with a seal. He requested you should go right away and that you should remember that the cup is precious. He requested also that I sprinkle you with some Holy Water to safeguard you on your way. In customary manner, Franiel knelt and Aba Tane sprinkled the precious bottled water on his forehead. Love and Light, Brother Franiel. Blessings for your journey.

              It was several days walking down the mountain to the Village. To be honest though, it was a task Franiel welcomed, perhaps to be away from the monastery at this time would give him a chance to better hear what was in his heart, and to miss the meeting was no loss for him.

              He wondered at the haste, and at what the words might be, however it was not his business to question the directives of Aum Geog. He remembered also his dream of the silver goblet. Many things to ponder, he mused, a feeling of excitement growing within him.

              #626
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                There was a tentative knock on the door and Finnley, the weekly cleaner popped her head around.

                Oh Ms Tattler …. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be in here at… she checked the wootch on her wrist, 5:57 am .. but I saw the light on …. A horrified expression passed fleetingly over her face as she took in condition of the office.

                Perhaps I shall come back later Ms Tattler, she said retreating, and making a note to have a word to the building supervisor, Mr Arak, as soon as possible. Mind you this wasn’t the first time she had spoken to Mr Arak about the issue of Ms Tattler living on the premises, to no avail. He was mad as Almad that man. Perhaps I will bloddy resign while I am at it too, she thought. Perhaps I will tell him to bugger his job, shove it where the sun doesn’t shine! Finnly cheered up greatly at the prospect.

                Elizabeth, exhausted, only dimly registered the interruption, looking up for an instant she waved vaguely in the direction of the door, and then returned to her frenzied writing, eager to capture the last remnants of her dream before it faded.

                #1316

                In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  January 4 th, 2008

                  A communication about legends, to complement what Yurick had connected to during his sleep, with ties with the dimension of Alienor, and possibly counterparts within his dimension

                  Starry sky, eternal and boundless waft of dreams and legends…

                  Many if not all of the physical dimensions possess legends. Legends of their beginnings, and legends of their ends.
                  The language which legends speak is a language of symbols, and though many of the receivers of legends are prone to erect them as absolute and faithful accounts of historical soundness, they are much more mutable and protean than what may be commonly thought of them.
                  They are connections, bridges from a locus (point in time/space) drawn as a frontier between what is known of the now, in which civilizations of these worlds are thriving, and a locus which is forgotten, or beyond the commonly perceived world.
                  As such, they essentially represent boundaries.

                  And of course, boundaries are only boundaries because they serve a purpose. Much like boundaries drawn on maps are not necessarily representing actual obstacles which cannot be physically crossed. These are mere perceptive frontiers, which tie in the various developments of history and societal relationships.
                  When the civilizations, or species, as you understand them, come close to one of these perceptive boundaries, there is an interaction with the very nature of the boundary, which is receptive to the inception of volition to cross the perceptive limitation.
                  And a process of reshaping and expending the borders takes place, by means of insertion of new legends.

                  Legends, in that way of seeing things, are not necessarily old dusty accounts sung by blind bards with jovian white beards. Not quite. They are much alive. They are created and recreated in the instant where boundaries of perceptions are being tempered with. Which makes it important to notice that they are translations of much wider movements in consciousness, spanning more than the physical dimension in which they manifest.
                  Many of the legends that humanity is aware of are very similar accounts, throughout your globe. And they are also projected in other dimensional areas vibrationally close to your manifestations.

                  You are currently fiddling with the legends of your ends of times, and that is the reason why at the same time, you are starting to create new legends. Legends of new beginnings.
                  In actuality, this is done oftentimes; each time a perceptual limit is crossed and seen beyond. The only difference here would be the unprecedented span of the process which is occurring now. The point where you are standing, prodding into the interactive frontier you have come across is not a single mere frontier, but a converging point of many of tinier, shorter ones. This also creates a singularity which makes the frontier respond with a sort of inertia. In fact, it is like a wide net of fine threads, which possess altogether a high absorbing potential for small energy bumps. Nonetheless, it will give way to a vastly expanded perception, as soon as the collective energy is focused upon, and steadily moving into the direction of pushing that protective envelop.

                  That process never ends, and during that process, new legends are being remembered. For the lands beyond the frontiers exists when you are aware of it, which in retrospect also means, it is created, or inserted as you are prodding the frontier.
                  In fact, you are, as you stand before that specific nexus point, being creating new legends, in that you are evaluating the potentials that you see fluctuating as a shadow world through the layer of a soap bubble, and have them blend with legends that you know of.
                  Your very lives become the legends of these potential worlds, and thus is the importance of your being at that locus of transition. You indeed come at that point, as much for making it possible but more so, to experience the transition and alteration of the legendary landscape. You are the bridges between a future which you are creating as you remember it, and a past which contains the clues that will be seeds for your new discoveries.
                  And that is a most rewarding travel, as you will come to see…

                  #622

                  Somewhere during the 23 rd century

                  “aaa AAAA AAAAA Tcheeeew !”

                  “Hiiiiii?! Oh Fracking NOOOoooo!”

                  The shriek had been heard in the whole facility.

                  Phefia Beryl was the first on the spot where Vinya Grey had been playing so exuberantly with her vocal chords.

                  — Vinnie? Are you alright?… What just happened?
                  — Oh, Pheffy… I think I made an awful blunder…
                  — What do you mean?
                  — You know, my last experiment?
                  — The g…
                  — Yes!
                  — What?!
                  — They poofed away…
                  — Away?… You mean, all of them? Oh bugger…

                  :fleuron:

                  A few minutes later, Vinya and Phefia were around a white table sucking on straws picked into white and red polystyrenoid balls.

                  — Vinnie, you look terrible… That last geomagnetic storm had not done very good on your DNA I’m afraid.
                  — And the worse is that each time I sneeze, I blow up wormholes… I thought it would go better very quickly, but last one was big and lasted long enough to let the whole experimental herd wander off in another time/space and/or dimension…
                  — Yeah, that’s pretty bad… But wherever they went, they probably will die very soon… Imagine… With their stiff legs anytime they see something frightening, I guess a mere mapgie could easily have them for dinner…
                  — Such a pity… I was close to doing something great with them… When we discovered these fossilized blue spiders, I knew it was the first step.
                  — Bwah, this rehydrated frogrog is the grossest thing I’ve ever drunk… But yeah you’re right, the first results were very promising. The spiders venom could provoke very random and deep mutations.
                  — And all we needed was a little more control on the direction of the mutations.
                  — Anyway they’re just goats… You possibly can’t have breached a cosmic law with a handful of GOATS
                  — Hope so Pheffy, hope so…

                  :fleuron2:

                  San Demangelo, 1848

                  Elroy was laughing… Hey Joe, Twi! he shouted A letter from Uncle Ernie!

                  — Uncle Ernie? How’s the old bat doin’? asked Twilight
                  — He’s sending his greetings for the new year, and babbling about last dead people in the neighborhood. But there’s something funny. He’s saying that he’d just acquired some funny goats. Like popped in, out of nowhere. At first he’d thought of a joke, but apparently no one’s been claiming them. He’d thought them dead, they were a dozen laying stiff on the ground, but when they started to wake up, they went down again like broken dolls. Apparently the magpies on top of the tree had been scaring them. Ahaha… Where does he get such strange stories…
                  — Well, magpies are scarey, Twilight said meaningfully, with a side glance at Joe
                  — Whatever… At least he’d been giving us a good laugh. He’s saying he’s gonna breed the horny beasts, and start a Fainting Goat Fair (or FGF) in Marshall County. Perhaps we could get there next Thanksgiving…
                  — Depends when the Freak Show’s coming to town, mused Twilight, I hope to see them soon…

                  #587
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Georges and Salome’s journal

                    From Salome’s account of their first journey to the Alienor star system

                    I had more insights about the Murtuane and its biosphere. The race of green-skinned people seem to foster some deeply religious feelings. Not religious as in our age old beliefs on Earth, nothing of that sort. It’s more “religious” in the sense of caring for life, and the sacredness of it.
                    It seems they are so attuned to their feelings that they can feel in each other’s waves of moods, so that it becomes very difficult for them to entertain such violence that we have been enacting for so long on Earth.
                    It is like they form some kind of invisible bond, and can feel each other through the belonging of some kind of unseen social memory complex. I think they call each others Children of Turmak, or somewhat close.

                    There are other forms of lives present here, many underwater, and I can feel some ties between the Nirguals (those huge eagle-like winged beings) and what we, on Earth, remember as “dragons”. It is as though they are different forms of the same energetic blueprints, or species… In evolutionary terms, it would be tantamount to say that they share a common ancestor, but I know it is none of that either.
                    The Nirguals (let us call them like that for the time being) are indigenous to this planetoid of Murtuane, but they somewhat seem to have seeded some of them on the Duane, the dual or sister planet — though this is my loose interpretation… But even though it reminds me of a cuckoo being forgetful of its eggs in another nest, this strikes me as an evidence of some kind of awareness of each other, by each of the planets sentients. And also of an evidence of a kind of travel route between the two, though discontinuous if not vagarious, and probably uni-directional as per now, as nothing tends to corroborate a continuous interaction.

                    #574
                    Jib
                    Participant

                      Despite his gloomy mood, Yann was quite aware that the idea of Yurick was paralleling his own desire to make his dreams public… It’d been several days now that he was thinking more and more to write them on his different web supports… but he hadn’t really created the time or the inspiration to do so.

                      Yann was feeling a bit forced since a few days… he couldn’t say or pinpoint the “origin”, though you could say HE was the origin, he wasn’t ready to accept this answer yet :)) he wanted to enjoy his victim feeling for a few days… Still it wasn’t very satisfying.

                      Yann sighed.

                      Well, all his life he really had understood others couldn’t give him the answers or tell him what to do, and still he had wanted to mimic them in their quests for a solution, their quest for happiness… he really realized that it wasn’t a natural movement to him. It had seemed at times that he could be aware of his desires, his direction… though today every action seemed like an effort, something you have to struggle for… well once again he got his own answer… he was struggling. It was already more flexible and smoother… his energy was feeling lighter, and he could se the other obstacles against which he was struggling.

                      He sighed again, but it was more a release and a relaxation now.

                      Well he had some dreams to note down.

                      #1314

                      In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        December 3 rd

                        ( Hey, that’s 12.3, might be a hint for growth… Yurick)

                        A communication about coordinate points, and how to travel between idea clusters

                        As the story starts to develop in a rapid and very intertwined manner, much like waves in the ocean, overlapping and rippling from and to many directions, Yurick became concerned that it may be difficult to keep track of, or rather to retain an ability to graciously navigate in it.

                        Let us imagine for a moment. Take your own life. It is composed of a multitude of moments. Your construct of linear time gives you the impression that there is a continuous succession or stream of moments.
                        In a manner of speaking, it is easier for you to grok the concept of multiple points of attention for your naturally associate them with your space. You can easily envision your many focuses happening all at once in a variety of places, towns or countries, and having a possibility to zoom in and out, so that to encompass more than your single current focus.
                        But what you do in engaging your conceptualization with your focuses would be equally valid were you to engage it in relation to that single focus that is you, in all of its moments of actualization.
                        But that would be far less familiar, as you identify quite strongly with that construct of time.

                        As that story unfolds, you discover that there are an infinity of points of attention dispersed in many many comments, and one comment can include many more than one point of attention itself. What you would be tempted to do, for it is something that is very automatic in your current associations, would be to attempt to draw lines between the points, to recreate a linearity, and thus facilitate your understanding of a certain action.

                        This is unnecessary and within your current movement of expansion of awareness would be counterproductive.

                        But you are familiar with that concept of coordinate points. For most of you, you once again associate them strongly with the space continuum, but they could be used in many many other situations. That story being one of them.
                        The coordinate points are in a manner of speaking, conglomerate of very coherent energy; they would not be “points” per se, but rather high concentration of these points of attention that your attempt to link together.
                        As such, they become the links that you are in search of, for in that drawing of energy points of similar expressions, they also become passageways between the associations that the points are linked to.
                        As a matter of fact, the “point” that you come to identify to the concentrated cluster of points would rather be a tone representative of that coherent energy that you can use to activate the links contained within that cluster of points.

                        That would be the reason why Yurick, in coming to understand that concept, has slightly adapted the original cloud of tags in the story, so that it can expand and be used to access the coordinate points that the tags are, quite simply.

                        #495

                        Narani was waiting patiently for her sisters to unfold their own desire. She had multiplexed their personal threads of desire for a new game to generate the magnetic field that was attracting the machinery of the 2 lEGGed creatures. She knew them well, as the oldest sister of her tribe, she was linked to all her “sisters”. And actually there were none of them that wouldn’t be a relative of sort. She had managed to maintain her own children on the island.

                        Her cousin Ararog had also managed her own nest in England. She was connected to her through a strange egg, white with threads of pistachio in it. She could speak from very long distance with that object, that was merely helping her to focus her energy in the most probable direction. She was doing well and there had been lots of movements for her too.

                        :fleuron:

                        :mummy: smelled some chocolate cake in the distance… it seemed delicious and she was so hungry… :mummy: needed chocolate

                        :fleuron:

                        Aldous Mc Gaughran farted contentedly, causing some disgusted glances from the other customers, he smurggled puffing on his cigar. He was feeling aroused by that beautiful blond chick dancing on the stage of the saloon and was making his decision about their family.

                        He :yahoo_pig: would have her.

                        #464

                        His senses were now hightened and he could feel the multi-layered energy patterns of the cave created by Leörmn. He could feel the connections with Leörmn and that they were part of him as he was part of them too. His foffing aspect just rippled inside the cave and for a few seconds added a green hue in the energy of the cave, rendering it smoother and a green flourishing moss began appearing in some hidden places.

                        — There is different probable paths for us to follow. Different qualities and different probabilities to emerge :)

                        She smiled, looking at him observing her energy. Their energy fields were merged as often when they were together. Their colors were blending, adding new qualities to their expressed focuses in this dimension.

                        — We are following all of them, beloved, she said grinning. I don’t want to actualize in this particular focus the quickest though I want to lof a little before.

                        He was seeing Salome’s energy intertwined and blended with all the energy of this dimension. Some more present, some lighter and not so focused in this particular area… she was observing him observing the blueprints also, they were fascinating… a bit different from what he was remembering from his last visit. They had changed them… well he also had changed them. It was a new exploration. From this particular interest in the new qualities added he felt he was creating new focuses to explore these and also new essences decided to fragment and explore differently, again changing the vibrational tone of the dimension… it was a continuous and wondrous process.

                        The marmoset was shining blue, still full of Salome’s energy. Leo’s energy pattern seemed quite new to this dimension.

                        — You are the one who introduced them in this dimension, he smiggled cunningly, I feel others are coming now. They find it quite fun and welcoming here.

                        They both laughed and She grinned slyly.

                        — Well I’m a Path Opener, you know..

                        Leo jumped on her right shoulder and wrapped his tail around her neck possessively. He did that little squick she was so fond of.

                        Sam has been following us also. She said. I feel she’s already with Malvina and jumping all around the place. Time to go before she messes the cave around :))

                        — Well this way then my precious :>

                        She saw him shift his attention sideway a little and his energy hue changed, becoming a bit more mustard, the tunnels around them were becoming translucent and he walked through the rocky mount in the direction of the sky blue energy of their beloved friend Malvina.

                        #446
                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                          She kept rocking, faster now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                          I don’t know, she whispered.

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

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

                          :fleuron:

                          Lucille returned with the lemonade.

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

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

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

                          #1938
                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            Yurick wondered for a moment what action was required behind “floating downstream”, the motto that his friend Finn was brandishing with renewed fervor at each of their encounters.

                            Perhaps it was actually a “non action”, and that reminded him of all the Taoist texts he had loved to read when he was younger. One of the tenets of the philosophy of Taoists was wu wei 無為 or “non action”, but this was not meant as being lazy and passive, quite the contrary… A bit of a mind-stretching concept:

                            WU WEI (from the 道德经 Dao de jing, attributed to Lao Zi)

                            The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
                            and acts without effort.

                            Teaching without verbosity,
                            producing without possessing,
                            creating without regard to result,
                            claiming nothing,
                            the Sage has nothing to lose.

                            When he had asked his friend Elias about this, Yurick got that answer,

                            “We have spoken previously of how you each have divorced yourselves from essence, and subsequently have forgotten your own native language. You now incorporate a desire to be connecting with essence, to be dissolving of the veils that exist between the focus and the entirety of the whole. In this, it communicates to you, but you have forgotten your language! Therefore, be not in distress; and allow yourself the opportunity to be assimilating a new language, and not pressing yourself to be attempting to interpret within your present language.” [session 100, June 16, 1996]

                            and that completed nicely another thing he had previously heard from him, speaking about our natural language in essence:

                            “Be listening to your impressions and be recognizing of your impulses, and DO NOT be denying of your impulses! This is your language to yourself from essence, and it is not harmful to you. It naturally moves you into the most efficient directions, but you are taught within your belief systems to be discounting of your impulses and to be suspect of your impulses, for they are bad. They are not! They are your natural language to yourself. Therefore, be listening to this language.” [session 294, July 01, 1998]

                            So basically, floating downstream, or being in the wu wei state of mind required only one thing, to be focusing and acting upon our impulses, and not judging or denying them… Probably the most challenging thing we are learning to do now…

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