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  • #1123

    Upon hearing Malvina’s thoughts, Arona smiled to herself.

    If only she knew the truth!

    ( If I put big spaces in-between, it will make it look as though I have written more, decided Tina rather cleverly, still feeling a bit creatively uninspired.)

    Tempted though she was, Arona knew she must not give anything away. It was easier to stay in character if she did not allow herself to remember too often, at least until this cave mission was complete. Occasionally she allowed herself the luxury of remembering, yet to do so was to feel a yearning for home.

    It was a pity about the outfit of course, the mouldy cloak…

    ( hmmm was it mouldy though or just a bit on the musty side? )

    … which the Oddlings had decided she would wear for much of this assignment was not her favourite look. Even though she had managed eventually to lose it in the darkness of the cave, her current clothes were now almost in tatters. Arona sighed wistfully, remembering the beautiful silks, chiffons and organzas some of her previous assignments.

    Moments later she brightened again thinking of Vincentius and her other friends.

    There were certainly compensations, she decided philosophically.

    Arona was a little concerned about the meddling of Malvina and the others, although of course she realised they were doing it with the best of intentions to fulfill their own purposes. Arona understood all this, and sometimes regretted she could not tell them who she really was. The powerful thought shields she had been trained in by the Oddlings meant that her disguise had not so far been penetrated.

    Yet she hated to deceive.

    Not to worry. For now she must just focus on the completion of her own mission here.

    She called to Buckberry softly in her thoughts and felt a little thrill of excitement when she heard his response. She knew she would have need of the little dragon for the task which lay ahead.

    #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.

    #1112

    The island had never felt as populated as these past hours. Veranassesee didn’t know really which way to turn, really.

    “Gather your wits, V” she told herself.

    Obviously, it was a bit difficult, she had a terrible time to concentrate. The past few hours felt like they were stretching on forever in time, for no reason at all?

    Take that mmm… wanton memory of the night with Agent Gabriele ; it was still fresh on her mind, and yet, she could hardly tell whether Gabriele was still around in his bungalow, or whether he had left… Feelings of guilt on her part perhaps. Well, it had taken her no less than forty pages… what was she saying? It had taken her no less than forty minutes to come back to him and fall with blissful abandon in his hairy manly arms, and that could as well have been happening two, three months ago for all matter and purpose.

    Perhaps that was the work of evil aliens tampering with her mind and memories. Hardly an excuse, she had been trained for far worse occurrences. She had to list her priorities.
    Gabriele.
    Well, her mission of course. What were you thinking? Now that plan B seemed to have failed miserably, Operation Spider seemed likely to be a total fiasco.
    She had apparently lost the item in a purple blood trail, and there was that fishy Jarvis she had to take care of too.
    But somehow, if she could get that item back, perhaps she could redeem herself. Or else, dreary Fukitupi and Mahiliki would be waiting for her. Hardly a consolation.

    Of course, as if to add to the total disarray of her plans and desire to have things neatly organized, the Higloshama gang (that’s how she liked to call the three atomic divas — Mavis, Sharon and Gloria) had once again disappeared from their pods, probably to gaze at the moon in-between a few cyclones… Well, in any case, they would find a way to get back. If pigeons do, why not them?

    As for the other patients, the door was closed, and they probably were asleep. Oh, and in any case, ugly-faced as they were, they probably couldn’t get far without triggering a trail of fear howling. She had to admit, she was sourer than usual. Anyway… down the list of problems.

    Ah, the doctor of course. Well, he could go to hell, but that would be doing her too big a favour.

    The sound of the plane coming to the island drew her out of her calculations. As she was adjusting her holster to greet the untimely airborne visitors, she sent a brief mental note as a leitmotiv to herself so that she wouldn’t forget “find the bee-man, Jarvis, Jarvis, Jarvis…”

    And she did right.
    She almost lost her composure when she recognized Mahiliki on the plane.

    #1111
    Jib
    Participant

      With the winter coming so fast (no more season you see), Dory was busy tidying her patio waiting for the next plane to Long Pong.
      All the dusty trinkets and the artworks she had brought back from her different excavations; she had to put them into some shelter, just in case. Last week the temperature had plummeted so quickly. She had to take the warm clothes out of the closets and realized she also had to change some of them in the process. Some unfriendly moth had eaten the wool of her favorite sweater…
      She was feeling dull and empty. Almost like she had no more purpose. Doing that cleaning and tidying was a way of distracting herself from that impression, she knew it would pass.
      Since the departure of her friends, Yann and Yurick, she had felt a bit lonely, even with Dan being present.
      She lacked a new excavation project, one that would fill in her blood with excitement and passion.

      An odd thought made her shudder. For a moment she had considered the idea of having a baby.

      — “No!”
      Really, she should find something worthy of her unlimited energy and not something that would chain her in habits and force her attention outside of her. Though, she seemed quite short of energy lately… However, it was not the time, not the place… and merely not the life for it.

      She wondered : what were her friends doing?
      Yann and Yurick were most probably preparing their new book, and Finn had told her last time that she was on the verge of adopting a baby Orangatun“she would need spare jungle in her garden”, she chuckled at the sudden vision of Finn gardening her jungle… Well at least it would give her a good distraction.

      She stopped her tidying and came back inside the house. Where was the wireless phone again? Apparently everything was a mess… she’d have to rethink the “no” she had given Dan last time he had asked her if she needed a butler.

      Oh! under her former favorite sweater, of course! She took the phone and composed Finn’s number. Maybe she would extend her trip from Long Pong to New Zealand…

      #1816

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster
        #1926
        TracyTracy
        Participant

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          #1098
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            BREATHE, Finnley, just BREATHE” whispered Rudiah, the upstairs parlour maid. “Just agree with him, it’s easier. It will pass when the drugs wear off. BREATHE……”

            #1092
            Jib
            Participant

              Finnley’s wig had fallen over the carpet, and actually she was bald. Her false eyebrows had fallen also and revealed a neat and gracious line of feminine eyebrow.

              — You’re a far better catch Finnley than I could have hoped for with Lady Theresa… I don’t regret our encounter in the library.

              He was titillating her nipples thoughtlessly and pinching them at times triggering an expression of pleasure on Finnley’s face.
              She was beautiful after… well, what they did.

              #1089
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “Damn it, where’s Phlynn!” Finnley muttered under his breath. “Plan 57 isn’t bloody working! We won’t be able to lure Sir Coon into the library now with the promise of a little clandestine titilation, we will have to use force. But I can’t do it alone! Where is PHLYNN?!”

                #1085

                “By Jolly, you are a Red spy!” Hector was not duped for a moment that the creature in front of him was here to steal him the precious carving for the benefits of the Russians, like that Harring just before he had been exposed.

                “But you can kill me now, you won’t get a thing!”

                He was just hoping he did the right thing in sending the precious information to the feckless Lady T.

                #1072

                This door is influenced by the energy you irradiate.

                You have to trust your energy in order for it to lead you to the most fulfilling place.

                Irtak drew his hand closer to the rippling surface of the door. Its aspect was so changing that it was like he was seeing all the tiniest elements that composed the matter, whatever it was. Hesitating, he asked Leormn.

                — Are you trying one of your tricks on me? It’s like I’m hypnotized.

                He’s not trying to lure you in… said Jeckle.
                The vibration you are currently feeling is the resonance of your energy with the one filtering through that door. said Heckle. I suspect it comes from another realm…
                But it is close to this one, Jeckle added. His muzzle quivered with excitement. I feel a friendly energy filtering from the other side.

                The waves of curiosity emitted by his friends were compelling, and Leormn could feel it. He himself was very interested by what he could feel was some kind of counterpart of himself. He was familiar with the energy but it was somewhat different from his own.

                Our strong desire is maintaining the door open. We can go safely through it and return in no time… he suggested in a soft persuasive tone.

                Arona, who was feeling a bit forgotten, grunted and added a tad dubious :
                — I’m not sure we should do it. We should tell the others… Where are they by the way?

                Apparently, the dragons and the boy were more fascinated by what was leaking out of her drawing. She’d been a bit surprised that one of her creations… if one could call the few brushstrokes a creation… that it could produce such an odd reaction. She couldn’t help but notice that the two words were anagrams.

                Leormn looked at her with a renewed interest.

                I’m feeling you are connected to that other realm, dear Arona. We all are in a way, but it’s like your lineage came from that… gate. Would you dare find out about your origin?

                She looked at him dubiously. His gaze was so intense that one moment…

                — Are you serious? she asked.

                He grinned… Who knows… if you don’t go you may never find out ;)) and I’m sure the others can take care of themselves when we are gone.

                Saying that he jumped on the other side like he was acting on a whim.

                The twins looked at each other and followed him… and Irtak was next…
                What was she to do?
                It was almost as if the door was staring at her. Challenging her… and she didn’t really like to be alone in these dark corridors.
                She jumped in and felt completely stretched out for what seemed a few seconds. She almost lost sense of who she was when an image started to form in her mind.

                It expanded until she was surrounded by a warm sensation of well being and lightness. She was completely safe in this place.
                A sudden woosh and a sensation of cold. She fell on the floor, her members suddenly failing her. The light was completely different and she couldn’t hear anything. Panic began to overwhelm her and she realized she couldn’t emit any sound either.

                As suddenly as it was gone, her sense of hearing reappeared.

                Who was shouting like that?

                Arona… Arona!

                The directedness in the tone was enough to make her recover her balance. She stopped shouting and began to notice her other senses… nothing particular at first, but she had the weird impression that it was different. Looking around her, she saw that the dragons were sniffing around like puppies and Irtak was following them like one of them.

                — Where are we? she asked Leormn.
                The sound of her voice was lower-pitched than usual, and Leormn started to laugh at her look of dismay.

                Hahaha! I don’t know yet… but we have all the time to discover.

                — Can’t we come back to the cave now? I don’t feel comfortable here… look at the sand, it’s purple… maybe it’s some kind of bacteria or something, maybe it’s contagious…

                He gave her one of those irritating wink. She was about to retort bluntly when she realized there was no way back.
                The door had disappeared.

                #1069

                The rain was falling outside the cave, and it was damp and wet all around. She came quickly back to her study, after letting Leo the little marmoset get out for a pee.
                There, Malvina caught glimpses of what was lying behind the door that Leörmn and the others were considering.

                Infinite possibilities,
                Stars twinkling,
                A dark night’s sky
                Blackness of the void of creation

                A red door, red like the earth…

                #1066
                Jib
                Participant

                  Sam (the fox) had adapted quite well to Sam’s apartment.
                  He was rather fond of dark corners where his glowing fur would create more effects. An accurate reflection of Sam’s own centeredness on self and fascination with the influence of his energy on his environment, including other individuals.

                  A shift in his aspects made him feel dizzy for a moment. A nudge of energy from Tina and Al. They were at the floating terrace of a cafe and offered him to join in. Apparently, the ripples created by the hurricanes of last week were arriving in NYC. It was worth seeing. Some improvised surfing contest in the main channels of the city. Apparently Tina expressed quite freely to Becky and she needed to release the pressure. She had brought her bathing suit and was about to participate in the exuberant playful expression.

                  Apparently the fury of the elements somewhere can generate fun in another place. Something about influence and reconfiguration?

                  FoxSam was wagging his tails so it was obvious he wanted to come with him.
                  Sam wouldn’t have let him alone, anyway.

                  #1065

                  The smooke of her pipe was creating interesting shapes flooting away from her.
                  Elizabeth had the weird impression that her story was taking an uncontrollable turn.
                  She woold have written a torrid sex scene with Phoebe and the yoong Russian on the submarine, but it was as if Finnley’s eyes were constantly reminding her of her own nymphoomaniac behavior. She had to let it unexpressed except in her imagination.

                  Looking at the last curls of smooke, it was as if the pook-marked face of Pavel was taking life before her eyes. Thanks to her new croop, her feelings were far far away… She let the smooked face decomposed in a gracious gray whale.

                  She giggled thinking of Finnley’s disapproval… maybe she’ll write that scene after all.
                  She took a sheet of paper and a pen, but soon realized the words were not foorming as expected. The thud prooduced by the pen rolling on the floor was amusing too.

                  Ooh!

                  The thud prooduced by her body rolling on the floor was more disturbing… and the last thing she saw before she lost consciousness was Finnley’s disapproving look… maybe she had written that scene after all…

                  A smile on her face she began to snoore soundly.

                  #1063
                  Jib
                  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.

                    #1060
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Today was the commemoration of the fifth anniversary of the first transmutation made on Earth.

                      Of course, it didn’t take into account previous attempts (or successes), because they were of the domain of science-fiction and dubious history facts. But now, not only was it rock-solid proven feasible, but also it had change people’s lives like the invention of electricity had about two century ago, in the mid 1800s.

                      At first, people had not grasped the profound implications of that discovery. It was another funny science experiment from researchers, and didn’t seem to have any more practical usage as did goat cloning, and creation of phosphorescent pigs. However, to mark the consciousnesses of the importance of the event, the government hadn’t skimped on the showcase. Not that it was of any importance after what evolution was bound to happen afterward, but still, huge sums of money were spent brilliantly.

                      The symbolic aspect of choosing what object to transmute wasn’t unnoticed. It could be virtually anything physical: garbage, contaminated soil… But it had to mean more.
                      Someone whose name was forgotten came with a suggestion and it slowly came up as the most natural thing —to close this area and open on the new one.
                      There had been many people still left to convince, the die-hard fanaticism, but it had to be it. And for good measure, the involvement of other nations was asked.

                      Sept. 4th, 2044, the ceremony opened with the display of what was left of Enola Gay that plane who had dropped the first atomic bomb, which had been almost forgotten in the West, but not completely in the East. And many nations came afterward, each carrying a symbol of what they wanted to recycle, to free themselves off.

                      Then all of these heterogeneous elements entered the P-Machine, a distant relative of the Z-Machine which had been adapted and enhanced to produce aneutronic fusion at its core —highest temperatures of the universe thought unreachable by human means, harnessed to change the elements at will, and producing no harmful radiations as the atomic towers of the past.
                      After a silent moment of unbearable expectation, melted gold started to flow out of the machine, making people wonder if that was all of it?

                      Yes, it was merely it. Transmutation could be done, and it was not so impossible as people thought in the past. It meant free resources, recycling of garbage, abundance for all… at people’s grasp.
                      What people had failed to recognize at the beginning, apart from the immense possibilities that were lying before them was that the machine could only transmute matter. And even if it could virtually free them of greed (because everything from gold to rocks was basically of the same value now), people’s own values were now made prominent, there was no camouflage left: no victims, no shortages, no lack of.

                      Even five years after, it still meant huge challenges, but there was hope.

                      #1058

                      She had to hold her breath a few seconds more…
                      Very few seconds…
                      Another one… Oh by the Elder gods! what was this all about the time was stretching like an old rubber bag and she was about to burst out… sshitty lack of air!

                      Calm down Phoebe. You can do it… WHERE IS THE SURFACE!?

                      All of a sudden she realized she had lost her beautiful motorbike for good — one that took her years to find, and a few more years to insufflate its little particularities.

                      Oh! MERDE!

                      Another memory of her time at the Moulin Rouge…

                      I lost the wand again…

                      But that wand was a bit more special than her motorbike. Soaked with ancient magic from another dimension… A bit like that ring in that dimension… She shivered… her small intrusion in that one sufficed to disgust her… That giant spider… what was her name again? Well the name won’t help her surface and breathe… She remembered… she had stolen an egg from that spider… she had to get rid of it very soon afterward in a garbage dimension, but…

                      What is this light… and where is the direction of the surface… it was like she was floating in no space, no gravity…
                      That’s not gooood…
                      I’m loosing…

                      :fleuron:

                      …conscious…

                      :fleuron:

                      …Nessy!

                      A big flushing sound and she could breathe again… it was painful as the water in her lungs was looking for a way out.
                      Coughing and aching… She had no idea of the boundaries of her bodies as she was as wet as the ocean…
                      But her friend of old times had saved her! She never regretted to help her in her youth, during a trip to Scotland…
                      The contact of the… cold skin?
                      It was a bit too cold to be her friend… and it sounded quite metallic.

                      — Oye! Therrre you arrrre!

                      What was that again!? A submarine? A Russian accent?
                      She couldn’t accommodate her vision, she was still too busy to breathe loudly.

                      — Deaaarrrr Pheobe! The Barrrron told me you’d be therrrre.

                      Pavel Orgeanov!!! Oh not him now! He was the last one she expected to meet.

                      #1057
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        Sam huh?

                        Al was quite interested in the little furry creature. He suddenly remembered that when he had opened his old worn-out copy of the Yurara Fameliki stories at random this morning, he had found this excerpt about a guy wanting to get a dog… He could even remember the page number: 110.
                        Al knew well enough that the book was a bit magic and that the described event would reverberate into his reality in many ways, but he didn’t know it would be in this strange fashion.
                        Anyhow, he quite liked it.

                        He was wondering now how Sam would do for the trip to the Floridisles with little Foxsam (huhu) —take it with them, or leave it for someone to keep?

                        #1056
                        Jib
                        Participant

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

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

                          :fleuron:

                          No particular feeling at first.

                          :fleuron:

                          One of the little ones, maybe…

                          :fleuron:

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

                          :fleuron:

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

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

                          #1055

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

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

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

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

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

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

                          :fleuron:

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

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