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  • #2200

    “Hey, Asp” Phildendron was still chuckling at her sister Aspidistra’s reaction to the piglet news “Why don’t you make a deal with Lavender, tell her you’ll only accept the piglet if it comes with a years supply of that DMT stuff.”

    “So I can share it will you, Phil?” Asp raised an eyebrow. “I don’t like haggling though, you know what I’m like. Looking a gift horse in the mouth and all that, no accidents and all the rest of it. I mean, I must be creating this piglet gift myself, and acceptance is key, is it not?”

    “Acceptance doesn’t mean literally accepting gifts of piglets, silly!”

    “Well what DOES it mean then?”

    “It means accepting that everything is fine, whatever you choose ~ whether you say yes to the pig, or no to the pig, you’re supposed to accept that it’s the perfect choice.”

    “Well how the devil is a person to know which is the right choice then?”

    “Well that’s just it, it doesn’t matter which choice you make. Not only that, it’s not a case of just one choice, either.”

    “So what you’re trying to tell me, which sounds like absolute nonsense, is that if I choose to accept the pig gift now, I would have to choose tomorrow that I accepted the pig gift today, otherwise I would be choosing…..” Asp’s voice trailed off as she lost her thread.

    “Yes! And not just once tomorrow, but in every moment you would have to choose that you chose the pig gift ~ otherwise you’d be choosing that you didn’t accept the pig ~ and that would be a choice too.”

    “Oh don’t be silly, Phil, with so many choices to make in each moment you wouldn’t ever be finished choosing before it was the next moment, then you’d have to start choosing again ~ You’d never get anything done!”

    #2198
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      “You can laugh Philodendron, but what on earth am I going to do with a piglet?”

      #2195

      Speaking of sex? Lavender’s ears perked up. Oh X! He was speaking of X. Now SHE was mishearing … or mis-mindreading to be more accurate. Pity, sex sounded more interesting than all this X business. She did wish Harvey wouldn’t call her Lavy, for obvious reasons, she would have thought. No wonder in the 6 years they had been friends she hadn’t told him her name.

      Speaking of names … do you think Essence is a good name for a pig? she asked, hoping to get Harvey off the rather boring subject of procrastination. She would speak of X later, maybe … if she had time.

      Maybe I should let Aspidistra name the pig?

      Harvey wasn’t paying attention. He was balancing the waiter on his nose.

      You know I might have to go through the portal if the bridge to Asgard has crumbled, Lavender mused, to no-one in particular.

      #2194

      Harvey wondered for a moment why he’d thought he’d heard “Sylvander”… He made Lavender repeat her name to be sure he got it right.

      At least, that was easier to remember than Aspooh’s full name.

      A striped cute little piggy… He’d heard about those funny Japanese Tokyo X ones. Speaking of Xs, there was a ten steps list to remember to help him out of procrastinating further on his current task that Lavy had kindly sent to him, but bugger if he could remember any one of them…

      Now… if that were to be a Japanese pig, they would have to learn how to say ‘Essence’ in Japanese:-?

      #2037

      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Shut years whole fire creatures nothing appeared,
        Snooter characters heard important stay allowed,
        Aardvark rolled
        Energy direction everyone bring fine beautiful.

        #2191

        I don’t remember dreams at all unfortunately, she confided, her voice lowered. But, on the bright side, the DMT I have been taking is helping me to see aliens and little people.

        Her close friend Harvey Norman, circus performer and proxy dreamer in his spare time, nodded distractedly, not really listening. He was more concerned at that moment with investigating any visible damage to his precious nose. Freakin heck! a freakin oven! what would the producers come up with next?

        Oh you know what! she continued, unperturbed by Harvey’s lack of attention. I’m pregnant! I’m so excited. I have a name picked and everything. I am going to call it Essence. The Fellowship said I could pick it up next week!

        Oh yeah? The Fellowship said next week? That’s pretty cool. Didn’t know you were after a baby. They are a bit hard to come by now aren’t they? So who is the father donor?

        None other than the great Col Umbro himself! She smiled proudly, anticipating the effect her words would have. She was not disappointed.

        Wow! Col Umbro! The Zebra! Harvey stopped the investigation of his nose in order to shake his head in disbelief. How did YOU manage that?

        Oh, well you know last week when I had that interview with Ann Tattler? you know, the crazy author who doesn’t write any more, just listens?

        Harvey noodded and roolled his eyes disparagingly. Used to be Elizabeth right? yeah sure, who hasn’t heard of her… so, go on …

        Well, HE was there, and he suggested I ask him some questions, you know to assess my suitability for the position. Somehow, by some freakin miraculous fluke, I managed to get the questions in the right order .. he is a bit obsessed with the whole order thing …. but I didn’t know that till after … so anyway, he was so impressed with my obvious brilliance that he offered to father a baby for me!

        Harvey, rendered momentarily speechless, shook his head again. He had never had much time for babies himself, although appreciated that some people were into
        them.

        Yeah, I know what you mean, she said, reading his thoughts. Actually I am not sure if I have really thought it through. I might have got caught up in the whole thrill of the moment thing … to be honest, I don’t know if little Essence will fit into my lifestyle. I am supposed to be going to Asgard next week …

        Asgard? Really, can you still get through? I thought the bridge was crumbling?

        oh really! bugger! … Oh but anyway I am thinking of giving little Essence to my cousin Aspidistra. She is such a funny old thing with her strange glowing skin. A little baby to care for could do her the world of good.

        #2190
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Col had been in the business of intergalactic sleuthing and profiling for many years now and his tall broad stature and kind, poised black face was well known all around. They used to call him “the Zebra”, not so much because he made black and white statements —he was very nuanced— but because of his unusualness and knack for blending himself in questions.
          As a matter of fact, he’s made himself quite a reputation of a highly skilled professional, with no one up to par for finding clues and solving mysteries.

          Col Umbro’s motto was “all you have to do is to ask the right questions, in the right order.”
          Of course, he wouldn’t tell which way was the “right” one and which was not. But one thing was sure enough, most people completely overlooked the last part of the sentence.

          And that was what he intended to teach to his next assignment. A distant focus of his essence in mid-shift. For the moment, dream projections were the easiest and safest way to catch their attention, because they were not accustomed to a shifted state enough to pay attention to more physical projections.

          It was hilarious to see that most of the enthusiastic ones were waiting for unexpected events to come and rapture them in awe. Sillies… For one, “unexpected” shouldn’t be so… expected.
          Besides, most of the time, (most of the now) people were simply blind to the facts not in alignment with their allowance for disbelief. A pink elephant, say… They had grown so blasé that should they even see it standing in from of them, that they would probably then dismiss its appearance as another miracle of genetics (or debasement thereof)…
          So, reaching them would actually require quite a tactful and sly approach. Qualities he possessed enough.

          “Who’s this new person appearing disguised in a pseudonym?” His assignment was wondering.

          They had forgotten rule number one. Nothing is hidden from you. Granted, a pseudonym is a mask, but the choice of the mask is revealing enough of a clue.
          Then, you had to ask the questions in the right order. “Who is it?” should be the last of them all. Same with all the “how’s”. “What and why” where more important questions to consider.
          Once you got the “what”, the who is so self-evident, that it would not even retain the slightest of interests…

          He had found a nice slot, just after an entertaining equilibristics dream show. Making a dream for his assignment would be fun. And probably even more fun as she was the most impossible subject who wouldn’t remember dreams at all! He would have to use a proxy dreamer. Someone close enough to her. He knew exactly who to choose…

          #2188
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            The transitory times were hectic, to say the least, though it did not always appear as such for everyone involved.

            For focuses, still living at the helm of the Shipft, riding the turbulent waves of change, it was a very delicate period.
            The last wave had propelled them very far in a short time, and they had rejoiced that their promised new land was in sight. Finally.

            But little did they know that the land in question was only still a reflection of the old. They had created it to let themselves rest, and spew out their stress, their anger and frustration, while behind the curtains the activity was intense with the careful and barely noticed moving of props.

            Sometimes, the riders of wave had glimpses of that movement. But it still felt as if they were left on their own. Most of the activity seemed to have shifted to other grounds, and that was a ground they didn’t realize they had access to already.

            Like the rainbow Bifröst leading to Asgard, all these bridges between the realms would soon start to crumble. It wouldn’t be possible to have one foot here and another there, not any longer.
            Choices will be made.
            They are being made.

            And then, the Circle of power, the one Ring will be melt into a burning core of ‘lova’, and the Shite will be healed and shifted. (well, tentatively heehee)

            #1289
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Arona flung her paintbrush to the ground in a fit of rage.

              Oy Missy, you be careful with that! Talk about ungrateful! Don’t expect any more of MY whiskers for your next brush! tutted Mandrake disapprovingly.

              I’m USELESS! she shouted dramatically, I GIVE UP!

              Does that mean i can put my clothes back on? Vincentius queried tentatively. It’s a bit on the chilly side now the sun has gone.

              Arona glared at him. You stay where you are! she snarled.

              :fleuron:

              A moment later she sighed and, bending down slowly, picked up the brush from ground where she had flung it.

              Sorry Vincentius.

              And someone else you would like to apologise to perhaps? queried Mandrake, raising an elegant eyebrow. And, might I remind you dear Arona, I seem to remember you saying something about fun?

              #2186
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                “Speaking of infinite details,” said Björn who was watching a circus program with a muscular looking man who balancing his contortionist partner who was attempting to balance plants on her face.

                “What?” said Iris who was already dozing on the couch.

                “Sorry dear, I was just talking to myself, have nice dreams”, he said, stroking gently her freckled face.

                He continued in his head, slightly dozing off himself.

                “One two, one two. Testing the acoustics… Sounds good.”

                “Funny how these thoughts come in and out… It occurred to me something funny.”

                :fleuron:

                “Can you add a plush toy in your dream?”
                “Oh sure darling. What kind of?”
                “A baby aardvark”

                :fleuron:

                Björn wasn’t very comfortable yet, he started to toss and turn until he realized he was seated on Iris’ plush aardvark. He fondly placed the little soft thing in Iris’ arms and returned to his thoughts.

                “There, it’s inserted…”
                “Now, your reality can be viewed to some extent as the most complex, yet the most simple of assemblage. You may liken it if you will to a room with mirrors (*). Ancient Indian mystics have spoken of Indra’s net where droplets of waters are each reflecting all of the other ones; these are the same images.
                It is not new information to you, the fact that you are seeing your reflection in your world, or that it is a sort of illusion reflecting you, but this is not the point we want to highlight here.

                Consider that the room in which you are is reflected an infinite amount of times in every direction. In a sense, they are all the same. They are you. Now, we come to the interesting part. You may very well decide to explore the room next to you with its shining details, by going through one of these mirrors. Some individuals quite enjoy such explorations, they call it past or future or even probabilities, other dimensions etc. And by moving into the next room, it becomes their present.

                You now realize that you have not really moved, since all rooms reflect only you. And you may want to continue in the direction you are exploring and go into more rooms. It’s alright. But some individuals realize that all rooms are equivalent, and that from where you stand, you can view the point you wish to explore in one part of the mirrors reflections. This is being present. You shift your attention, and expand your vision of the tiny part, rather than moving towards it with great efforts.

                Now, when you are dreaming, the very nature of dreams is the same. It gives you a whole fractal hologram to ponder. You may get carried away by wanting to remember all the tiny details, because in doing so, what you are doing is simply opening rooms upon rooms upon rooms. And more details will be created for you! Or you can simply realize that the details are all contained within your feeling of being present, and standing in the middle of one of these rooms, and not one of them is more important than the next.

                Connect to your feeling, and all the natural movements of your explorations will be automagically connected. And we bid you a nice fractal dream exploration.”

                #2184

                Unfortunately Aspidistra couldn’t remember the dream that she had told Dick. I wish I could remember it, she muttered to herself. I suppose if Dick suggested I sing the joys of life upon awakening that it must have been an unpleasant dream, she mused, and as such it’s perhaps not terribly important that I recall it.

                “What are you mumbling about now, Aspidistra?” groaned Philodendron, her sister. “It’s hard enough to get some sleep as it is with you glowing all the time; if you’re going to keep mumbling as well, well, it’s just not fair!”

                “I wasn’t even speaking aloud, Phil!” retorted Aspidistra, stung at the unfairness of the accusation. “You shouldn’t be listening in to my thoughts in the first place, you nosey parker.”

                Philodendron sighed and rolled over, pulling the blankets over her head in an attempt to block out the glow and the mental chatter bombarding her from every direction. I really need to learn how to block all this, she thought, I can’t seem to get a moments peace anymore.

                “You’re right, you do, Phil” replied her sister.

                AARRGGHH!” Phil shouted. “Don’t keep answering my thoughts, they’re private! Bugger off!”

                #2183

                When Aspidistra woke early the following morning she lay still in the darkness. Holding up her arm she used the faint golden glow her skin gave off to read the time on her bedside clock. 4.44 am!

                She remembered the advice Dick had given her when she shared her dream. Dear Dick, she had fully expected him to laugh at her foolish fancies.

                When you wake up in the morning, take a deep breath. Sing the song of joy that you are here! Dick Tator

                Feeling a little foolish she took a deep breath, opened her mouth wide and ….. out came a high pitched shriek.

                I sound more like a squawking magpie than a song bird, she thought disconsolately.

                Gloomily she switched on the television where a muscular looking man was attempting to balance an oven on his face.

                #2182

                Of course Aspidistra’s qualities, although unique, were not particularly useful when it came to gaining paid employment. She lamented this fact at some length to her best friend Dick Tator. Dick did his best to console the distraught Aspidistra, even offering to teach her to speak in a more posh accent, but to no avail. She was inconsolable.

                I am going to hell in a handbasket! she cried. I am completely unemployable! Will I sink to the lowest level of society? To a world without money or moral obligation?

                It seemed decidedly odd to Dick that his friend believed that she created the very heavens, yet could not create a job for herself.

                What is it you would love to do above all else, dear Aspidistra? asked Dick gently. For he was a kind hearted soul, deep down.

                Without hesitation Aspidistra replied, I would like to sing songs! songs of joy! songs that make people dance!

                #2181

                Aspidistra’s parents had thought long and hard about what to call her. In fact, until she was 5 years old they referred to her simply as “the sprog”. One day Mrs Merryweather, a keen gardner, was admiring her Aspidistra elatior plant which seemed to grow so abundantly despite the most adverse conditions. She mentioned this to Mr Merryweather in passing.

                Just like our Sprog, he chuckled, look at her. She is twice the size of the other kids her age, and we don’t hardly have to feed her at all.

                It was years later that her ability to glow in the dark was discovered.

                #2179

                The scene was recreated, the characters had not disappeared… They were only shifting.

                The cloud puffed words out:

                “mouse escape sort library getting silly
                finally play gloria added sometimes coon
                speak skull try mongoose open later read
                otherwise mad”

                Note to self: premature shifting can be traumatic.

                #1286

                It wasn’t just the twins that were outraged, there were alot of outraged people that day. Becky, Sanso, Illi, Bea and Leo, Elizabeth and Zhaana ~ all of them were utterly outraged at the monstrous display of dictatorship. They were devastated because they had been labouring under what was clearly a misconception that it was a group project.

                “Godfrey, I am inscensed!” declared Elizabeth. “And don’t you dare correct that spelling! I will write my own story somewhere else. If you think you’ve snatched my characters from right under my nose you’ve got another think coming, old chap.”

                Elizabeth snatched up the papers on her desk and crammed them into a carpet bag.

                “I’m going out for a walk. Alone.”

                And off she went, clutching her bag under arm and muttering under her breath, angrily wiping the tears that dribbled down her cheeks.

                #1285
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Naasir then exhaled slowly, until all in the cave was still.
                  The End

                  — “What?”
                  — “That can’t be true?”

                  The twins were outraged. The book couldn’t stop now, there was so much left they wanted to explore. Watermelons, mummies, secret islands… even aliens would be a fate better than a dreaded “END”!

                  Lord Wrick smiled at them.
                  “Dear ones, you knew all along that there was no third book, and that it would end at some point, didn’t you?”

                  A stubborn silence greeted his deep raspy voice.

                  He continued unfaltering “Let us see it another way. These stories are like a breath.
                  You take breath without thinking of it. It feels good to have the air flow into your lungs and make you feel so full of life.
                  But you know without even thinking when it’s time to release. You can try to hold the air indefinitely in your lungs, but soon it’ll become painful. The air is all around you, you can release the tiny fraction you think you hold without a worry. All you will have to do is breathe again.
                  These books will change over time, they are not finished. They are only closed. You can open them again anytime, and reinvent them. I trust your imagination on that.”

                  #1284

                  Bronkel was stern as ever, yet you could feel in his eyes that he was troubled.

                  — “What? That’s roobish, isn’t it?”
                  — “No! Elizabeth! Not at all! It’s your best book in years! Poople will want more!”
                  — “Well, we’ll see… For now, I think my moose needs some rest”

                  Her detox had done her great. Her beautifool violet eyes weren’t as bloodshot as before, and she could even see some of her hair grow back in places. Elizabeth in some surge of energy had collected all the bits written here and there, loose paper flying at times with some missing (perhaps used during her poohnuts hazes to light fires in the office).
                  Some of these paper she wasn’t even sure were hers, or writing attempts by Finnley, but she didn’t care; they were all so funny and interesting.

                  For instance, she wasn’t too soore that she’d have Veranassasss —whatever her bloody name was— go off with the pilot of the plane, but that sounded nice for her. So she’d used that part too.

                  Of course, the Spanish couple, Paqui and Jose had reemerged at the boulder moving party after a long trip in the underground space-traveling tunnels. Leo and Bea were not so glad they’d reappeared so early, but had found it was time to move on, and continue their quest for more bizarre and entertaining artifacts. And they wanted to go to Morocco anyway, in this gorgeous blue city…
                  Young Becky decided she wanted to go abroad to travel the world. “And study too” had said Dan who wasn’t as shifty as Dory, a thing for which she thanked heavens profusely every day.

                  Sharon, Gloria and Mavis after some more bizarre adventures among the Masai tribes finally found their way back home, while Akita continued his explorations of this strange shifting world of the 21st century.

                  Even the bizarre animals stories in the ZOO she’d kept. They’d even found Arky the Aardvark. He had been accidentally buried under Oligan the Oliphant’s pile of poop. The poor Oliphant had suffered from an excess of mangoes in his diet, and Arky was so eager to collect poop for his garden of flowers that he hadn’t noticed the harbingers of it.
                  Pawanie the lady Panda and Barry the White Bear had since then decided to take care of the little Aardvark, and provide it with their own poop to fertilize the flower garden. Theirs was a garden to behold, with the most beautiful flowers to be seen in miles. Attracting creatures from all over the place.

                  There were a few points Elizabeth had left deliberately unanswered; the mad doctor, who was probably still alive somewhere, and most important of all… if, after all this children bearing with Sean, Becky ended up with Sam or not.
                  One thing was sure though, they were all moving to the City. The sooner the better.

                  #1283

                  Leormn was glad to be back in his cave.
                  The trip with the twins and Irtak had been very interesting for all of them; it had expanded their knowledge of their world, and the young Irtak was allowing his desire to be expressing his playfulness with dragons more and more.

                  Leormn could foresee he would become a great dragon breeder, and the dragons once again would reappear with times of peace.

                  For now, he and Malvina were packing again. It was time for them to move the rookery, and find another spot where they could alter the stuck energies by simply being there. They were like roots in the ground, they were unseen to most, but they were moving, and changing the quality of the soil, enriching it, bringing lightness to it.

                  Irtak and the twins would start their own path, they had learned so much. They were heading to the South deserts, the land of the gripshawks, and other less known creatures. Irtak wanted to see the seal-men, too wherever they were, in between the Icy Lands and the Southern shores. He wanted to explore everythere.

                  Arona had found her way to the cave, and since Malvina was moving again, she had decided to stay there with her newfound little strange, but delightful family. Ikesy would probably go in a few years to fulfill his own destiny, but for now, the Ugling raised by an Oddling was doing well.
                  Having seen the interesting properties of her painted door (yes, the “peace off” magic door) she had finally acknowledged her talent, and decided to devote her time to take up her art. Of course, Mandrake was encouraging as ever (refraining to comment at the beginning), but she had no doubt her dedication would conquer his and her own doubts.
                  After all, her magic was strong; if anything needed to be drawn out of this adventure that was it. And Buckberry her own artist dragon was a remainder of that.

                  #1282
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    Speaking of toomoorroow, Elizabeth,there is something I have been meaning to say to you for some time now. Godfrey cleared his throat nervously. Somehow with all our deep, and incredibly meaningful philosoophising about life, I clean forgot to mention it.

                    Clean is hardly the word I would have used whilst anywhere in the vicinity of this ooffice, muttered Finnley, mostly to herself, as she attempted to dislodge a large spooder web from the corner of the ceiling.

                    Godfrey hesitated. He looked down and with somewhat unusual preoccupation made spiral patterns in the thick layer of dust on the window ledge.

                    Godfrey, what is it? asked Elizabeth starting to feel some alarm. Oh in the name of Floove, you haven’t found another Felicity have you!

                    No, nothing like that. The thing is, you see … well …

                    Spoot it out! You are driving me Madder than Almad! snapped Elizabeth, losing patience, and craving nicobeck. She knew that meddlesome Finnley would take great delight in reporting her to Mr Arak if she smoked in the ooffice.

                    Godfrey sighed and looked up, directly into Elizabeth’s beautiful violet, albeit rather bloodshot, eyes.

                    I have been offered a position managing a poonut farm in Noo Zooland. I start immediately. It is a dream come true for me Elizabeth. I had to accept.

                    No! screamed Elizabeth.

                    Yes, I am afraid so. Goodbye dear Elizabeth. We both knew I was a rubbish pooblisher. Why don’t you see if that chap Bronkel will come back?

                    Good riddance I say! said Finnley as Godfrey walked out the door. You two have done nothing but speak noonsense in a hooty tooty accent since that man arrived.

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