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  • #304

    Írtak was playing with the dragon twins in the carved woodstones field. It was mostly faced shaped petrified wood that had been carved surely when it was still wood. The faces were quite hypnotic and made him feel often sleepy, but with the dragons he was feeling all his senses enhanced and sharpened. :face-glasses:

    The dragons were growing fast, hatched only a few days ago, they were already bigger than his father… He knew from Malvina that they could take whatever form they wanted, but he’d always thought that their power were developing from nothing to … something… but apparently they were already fully aware. Their leather skin was glowing emerald green, blended with some purple pink shades, or was it the contrary. It was changing so quickly. He was wondering what they were eating, because he wasn’t the one who was giving them any food. And still they were so big.
    Did they have a “real” form? Whatever that meant.

    One of the dragon gave him a mischievous glance and before he could anticipate what would happen, he was facing a growling troll :yahoo_time_out:. The troll was running right to him, seemingly crushing with his heavy body all the fragile woodstoned faces.

    All his attention was on the troll and he didn’t hear the man coming.
    And now the troll was freezed running and jumping forever… Írtak’s head was like a big storm of boulders falling from the sky. Growling, drumbling apart…

    — You have strange games with your dragons.
    — …

    He was gaping at the man… his skin was bluish with pink also and sometimes a bit of yellow.

    — Who are you?
    — Don’t you recognize me? :face-grin:

    Írtak tried to remember something. had he ever met that man before?

    — Oh right, it’s our first meeting… from your point of view. I’d forgotten that. But you see, for me our first meeting is in your future.
    — …

    Írtak was still gaping at the man, this strange skin of him, it was so ambrulin, that color he’d already see somewhere… was it in a dream?
    The man looked at him, and he felt for a moment a warm fuzzy feeling in his body… not particularly located in any part of it… and he would have… no, it was even in the woodstoned faces around him… how could he feel that?

    — Your dragons are wanting to take part in the fun, the man smiled. I’m going to let them go, as I’m not staying either.
    — Who are you? managed Írtak.

    :yahoo_alien:

    — I’m your father…
    :yahoo_alien:
    HAHAHAHAHAH! No actually that’s a private joke… I’m Andrimiñ (AndruhMiiñ?) we’ll meet again in a few years of your time. Your dragons are really interesting then, and so are you.

    Saying that, the time began to flow again in the right direction, the troll was still running toward him, but he suddenly slowed down and stopped, shape shifting into a bluish boy, with a face so similar to Andrimiñ.

    — Where’s the funny man? he said.

    #295

    Becky had decided to take her friends out for the day. Poor Al needed a break from scratching his head in confusion, and dear Tina needed a break from rubbing her aching temples. She knew Sam would enjoy a day out too.

    Becky was enjoying preparing the itinerary.

    Champagne breakfast at the Droles de Dames cafe in Le Touquet~Pu first, a table reserved under the gaily striped awning overlooking the sea. Fresh croissants and hot coffee, Bavarian cream donuts, tangy fresh squeezed Tesorillo orange and Tiki kiwi juice, scrambled dragon eggs on French toast, and Moroccan mint tea.

    The exhibit of Sand Sculpture was next, a pleasant stroll on the beach after breakfast would be just the ticket, Becky thought.

    Next, a little side trip to place a few hibiscus blooms on the grave of Oscar Wilde. He was buried at the Father Chase Memorial Garden on a mossy knoll overlooking the sand sculptures, a short stroll from the beach.

    A golden coach and six dappled grey horses would meet them at Father Chase gardens and take them to the lawns of Sandlebright Hall, for the hot air balloon ride. The big red balloon would land on Isla de los Perdidos, a magical island in the Rift Straits, for a picnic lunch under the coconut trees and a relaxing swim in the deliciously warm lagoon. Balti had agreed to provide head massages for the little party of day trippers, and had suggested a big iced jug of crop juice as the perfect accompaniament.

    A paddle steamer would arrive to take them back to the mainland after the sojourn on the magical isle. There were comfortable whicker steamer chairs on the deck with cosy tartan blankets for those wishing to snooze a little, or raucous poker games inside the red plush interior for those who chose to exercise their creating skills on the green baize tables.

    The Cirque de Paradoxia matinee was on the agenda for the afternoons entertainment, with the new sonic stone juggling as one of the highlights.

    A theatre supper in Covent Garden, Becky had decided, and the Orient Express was the perfect way to get there. Hercule Poirot had kindly agreed to serve drinks and nibbles on the journey. Becky perused the entertainment section of The Reality Times, wondering which play to take her freinds to. Aha! Salome, of course!

    Becky considerately booked rooms at the Hogwarts Hotel on Queen Street for her friends to freshen up and change, ready for the evenings festivities. A hot pink stretch limosine would call for them and escort them to the Blue Man Group show, and then on to the party at the Dragondrome Stadium.

    Becky booked rooms at the Taj Mc Fal Hotel for her friends to retire to after the party, whenever they so wished…the pink limo would be available all night.

    There, said Becky in satisfaction, they will love it.

    #1446
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Oh is there? :face-surprise:

      Anyway, not to sound too bossy, but perhaps you want to ask about the latest instalments…
      Finn is a cool name they say:

      Means “fair” or “white” in Gaelic. Fionn mac Cumhail was a legendary Irish hero who became all-wise by eating an enchanted salmon. He fought against the giant Fomors with his son Oisin and grandson Oscar.

      Cool :yahoo_cool:

      #279

      Once Illi had realized she was dead and could ‘go’ anywhere she liked simply by creating the ‘place’ around her, she decided to take a long relaxing holiday on a deserted tropical island. She would float in the warm lagoon, feast on coconuts and pina coladas and mangoes, play with the dancing lemurs and build fantastic sand castles on the beaches. As she visualized it, it appeared as if by magic all around her…the sun warm on her head, the sand between her toes, the gentle breeze fragrant with exotic blooms and the sound of gossiping parrots filled her senses. She closed her eyes and flung her arms wide in appreciation for the physical joys she had recreated, breathed deeply and relaxed for the first time since she had died. Finally, she felt like she knew where she was, even if that ‘somewhere’ was as ‘nowhere’ as ‘anywhere’ else, just another ‘elsewhere’ really…..

      Illi stretched out on her back on the golden sand and squinted up at the cloudless deep blue sky. How nice, she thought, not to have any aches and pains, not to have to worry about shifting and those bloody belief systems, how simply lovely to just BE, with no perceived responsibilities, no interruptions…

      Just then out of the corner of her eye, Illi saw movement in the sky. Something was descending onto the island. Illi couldn’t make out what it was, and wished she had a pair of binoculars. Silly Illi, she said to herself, reaching for the binoculars that had appeared beside her. I keep forgetting I can create anything at all.

      Holy Moly! A great fat roly poly nun with a huge jolly grin was wafting down from the heavens, with an irridescent turquoise fairy in tow. They were landing on her island! We’ll see about that! Illi jumped to her feet and stomped off the beach and into the mangroves, sloshing angrily through the watery roots….. until she realized she could hover above the ground, which was a much easier way to travel.

      Hovering was much quieter too, and the jolly fat nun and the bluegreen fairy were quite unaware that Illi was peering at them from behind a peachy hibiscus bush. In fact, the blooms on the hibiscus had grown to a most ridiculous size, and Illi could hardly see past them. She hovered to the side a bit, and decided on impulse to make her presence known to the intruders.

      BOUH! :yahoo_skull:

      #1340
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        There’s quite a crowd gathering the the pub this morning, two bus loads of Italians on thier way to Inverness just pulled up and the coffee maker is overheating…..:yahoo_billy:

        #79
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          These are excerpts from Yuki’s diary, explaining some of the details of the experiment called — Malvina’s story —.

          Note: for the reader not familiar with all the names here is a quick reminder:

          • Araili > Yann, Írtak, Sam, Jacob …
          • Armelle > Fiona, Arona, Tina, Qixi …
          • Rafaela > Dory, Illi, Becky, Rodney …
          • Yuki > Quintin, Al, Janice …

          September 12 th, 2007

          Today, an experiment has been launched by Quintin. Time will tell if it will bear some fruit, but the idea sounds good.
          Having people join in a story telling, and see what happens, what are the “lessons” one can draw from this…

          Armelle, Rafaela and Araili are already on the starting-blocks, though Quintin is not quite aware yet.

          I can hear some thoughts: Let’s say for the moment that there are no rules. We will see what prompts the desire for having rules…

          September 13 th

          Some of the people familiar with Janice and her friends’ adventures have already joined in with much enthusiasm.
          This first comment seems very promising.

          Right now, it feels easy and fun.

          Quintin seems to think that everything is very straightforward.
          The magical world with the cave in one part, separated from the “real” world. (Two Worlds, and he thinks that will be enough to content Rafaela, ahaha, how presumptuous)
          The first he sees as a representation of what psychologists think of as “subconscious”, and the other being the conscious, physical part.

          But of course, he thinks he knows better than that. He calls the first one “subjective” rather than subconscious, because it’s a translation of subjects which unfold in many related objects in the “objective” or physical world.
          That’s a good point, though a bit distorted. It would be better to say Malvina’s World is a translation of the subjective, in the manner of a Heroic Dimension.
          But the thing is, that he missed the point in thinking one World is more “real” than the other.
          We’ll be having some fun soon…

          First remark… The second comment of the story has been interrupted abruptly in the middle of a sentence. That is interesting. We will urge Quintin to leave it as it is, despite his feeling of it being awkward.
          We will appeal to his imagination.
          It seems he has heard the suggestion.

          September 14 th

          For the most part, the story starts to get much involvement. Lots of energies are being projected into it, and with every adjunct, each participant’s perception stretches to accommodate the changes and smooth out the bumps in their own sense of continuity.

          But as I expected, some challenges seem to appear already.
          Is it raining or not in that world?
          The question seems simple, but it is very profound and Fiona seems to struggle a bit with it, as is Quintin. The question frame itself [“that World”] shows where the difficulty lies.

          He seems to avoid the discrepancy and pretend that he has not seen it. Mmmm, avoiding the obstacles… that will very soon come right back in front of you dear Quintin, for Dory is quite playful.
          At least Fiona has been challenging Dory for not paying attention… Armelle’s ineffable loving ruthlessness!
          How will it unfold?
          Rafaela seems to be delighting herself as though she’s preparing some mischief, but Dory struggles in the “back”…

          September 15 th

          Dory is indeed very playful and her imagination is unrestrained. I extend much appreciation to this focus of Rafaela, especially as Quintin has to stretch his imagination to make things “fit”.

          Quintin is still avoiding the issues that appear sporadically and prefers to stay focused on his own perception of the story… Careful Quintin :face-smile:

          Yann joins the fun —objectively, that is, for Araili has been present already since the very beginning.

          September 16 th

          Halcyons days…
          My dear friend Archie is answering some of Quintin and Yann’s questions.
          Something starts to dawn on Quintin. But his mind is on other matters.

          He understands that the energies of the writers are melding in writing the story, but he still tends to think that they blend completely.

          September 18 th

          Quintin has been drawing some of the characters of the story. It’s interesting.
          He had good insights, as Yann will tell him later that his clothes today were exactly the same as the colours he had drawn.

          Characters drawn:

          • Mavina, Leörmn the dragon and weaszchilla, Írtak, Huÿgens (and Fjutch), Arona and Illi (the gripshawk)
          • Malika, Quintin, Yann, Fiona and Dory

          Interestingly, Fiona resolves her issues in her cave.
          Dory too, but she did not need the cave to do this.

          September 21 st

          For Quintin, the story seems to lose all common sense, as some characters move from World to World. You could have expected that Quintin!
          And Dory pops in and out, in her mind, in her dream state, or in future timeline mixed with present or past one.
          Quintin will soon realize that he himself is doing this constantly, though he does not register it.

          But the worst thing for him is that there are bleedthroughs in between Worlds. The Reality Times newspaper was brilliant Rafaela, a perfect trigger for the beliefs that the Worlds are closed and impermeable to each other!

          Archie has been answering new questions about that story and this had been quite interesting for all of the participants.
          There is much for them to digest from the realization that each of them had been creating their own versions of the stories through their perceptions. And that they were each having their version of the story, drawing from each other’s input, like a conductor of an orchestra incorporating some instruments.

          Of course, some things still matter, and one of the point of the story is also to discover these.

          September 22 nd

          Quintin has been drawing new characters.

          Characters drawn:

          • Båd Al’Guz (Bådul), BelleDora, Buckberry the dragon, the twin dragon eggs, Archibald the parrot, Sanso the Wanderer
          • Illi Fergusson, another Illi that Quintin has tried to sneak in as a bait for Dory, with hints that she is disengaged (or “dead” in common vernacular) and merges with others of her focuses…
          • Jacqueline Bleomelen (Nanny Gibbon), Lord Wrick, his great grand children the twins Cuthbert and India Louise, Manfred, William P. Jobsworth the painter

          A new perception trick: Dory felt relieved upon seeing the moth feelers of BelleDora.
          She had at first thought they were whiskers, which was not Quintin’s intent…

          September 23 rd

          Quintin seems to have connected to a map drawn by Lord Wrick, when the old Lord has started to document his great grand children travels.

          Quintin had tried to put some annotations on this fragment, but he doesn’t yet completely understand that his perception of this World, though accurate, is only valid in this present moment, and may change at any time.

          Up to now, here are the names he could find:

          • North: the Icy Lands, and Dragon Cemeteries
          • Center: Goldfindely, homeland of Arona, connected to the Warring Kingdoms of Lan’ork by the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer. The Isthmus of the Dragon Head seems to lead to Malvina’s cave and hideout. Mount Elok’ram is pointed as the highest place of the World yet discovered. Three main rivers are drawn: in the ancient myths of the people of this land, they represent the three Daughters of Ghört, weavers of men’s destinies: Tibreÿa, Uleÿa, and Snimeÿa. Snimeÿa cuts the thread of life, which is shown as the river leads after many meanders to the Marshes of Doom.
          • Far East, North: the Land of Båd Al’Guz, Åsgurdy. A harsh mountainous land of islands and seas.
            Both parts of the World seem to ignore each other till now, as they are separated by the Great Rift, which in the past has deterred many intrepid navigators.
          • South: the Desert Lands. Illi’s birthplace, rarely explored by humans thus unaware of most of its marvels, gripshawks nomadic tribes included.

          When he discussed Arona’s village with Fiona, Quintin had the vision of some dolphin-like creatures, but bright yellow. They are called golfindels and are mostly seen on the northern shores of Arona’s homeland, which is thus called Golfindely.

          #273

          On the shores of Golfindely, a young boy was playing in the carmine fields of ripe Scotch bonnets.

          Since the captain Bone had left, Tomkin Sharple was feeling a bit sad.

          The old captain always had fascinating stories to tell him, and he would indulge the endlessly curious little boy in telling him for hours all about what he had discovered in all the parts of the Worlds he had been traveling to.

          Now, all he had to do was to take care of the herd of grakes of his parents, and while they were eating the weeds of the crops, he would sat on the cliff, looking at the sea, glimmering in the sunlight.

          Grakes were funny to play with, as they were big birds, with a slender neck as geese, colourful patterns as mandarin ducks, and Tomkin always had fun jumping on the back of the alpha one, and ride it, leading the whole herd to the crops where they helped the farmers by eating all kinds of nuisances.

          But after Captain Bone’s departure, it was no longer fun.

          Tomkin was contemplating a strange thing that the captain had given him before he’d left. It was a sort of knot, shaped as a eight, and the captain had told him it was magic and meant that all was connected, but that he had to discover that magic for himself.

          Tomkin had asked the captain to tell him about this object, but all he had told him was a legend which did not reveal much about the circumstances in which the old sea dog had acquired it. Perhaps the captain had fooled him about the magic…

          Stuffing the thing again in his pocket, Tomkin let his mind wander on the sea waves, dreaming of being a cabin boy on a big boat, when he saw something on the horizon.

          At first he thought that it was a group of swimming golfindels, but golfindels were more brilliant and smaller than the shapes he was seeing, and moving less heavily too…

          #270

          Oörlaith heard the sound of a barking dog not far from her rookery. They were back with his master, and she knew at once their mission was complete.

          A few months ago she had met a strange man, he told her he was called Leonard, and the funny black dog that was following him everywhere was called Moufle. An ancient word for mitten… Well she didn’t ask why he’d call him like that, the dog was so hairy…

          Leonard was a lonely traveller, quite ancient as she could feel, but she wasn’t able to know his actual age. And there were some other weird feelings when she was focusing on his energy tone, something to do with time itself.

          When she first met him she knew he was the one she was looking for for ages. It’s been such a long time she hadn’t heard from her sisters. Oörlaith’d been having these dreams since they chose different direction many years ago, Malvina and Roselÿn, her precious ones. It wasn’t necessary for her then to keep objective contact with them through the glubolín.

          One year ago, the dreams stopped abruptly, and she tried several methods to reach her sisters. None of them with success. All her attempts failed, and she thought first she had lost her own power, but she knew one can not loose power of self, just forget it or create it on purpose. She realized then it was time to recreate these links more objectively.

          She couldn’t find her glubolín though. And Leonard arrived. Fortunately enough he had news from some strange events occurring in the land where she knew Malvina had settled her rookery. Was she still here with Leörmn?

          ***

          Yann had been feeling many impulses to draw scenes from his dreams and from the story they were creating with Quintin, Fiona, and Truth. It was an urge from inside and last night he had a very intense dream activity, most of which he couldn’t remember, it was more like a big forum with many different personalities all exchanging experiences and exploring new avenues.

          He was also attracted by old stories he was writing when he was a student, the one involving Georges and Salome, it seemed to him they had taken a life of their own now, and they felt very powerful, and most of all, they felt like really having fun.

          One of the drawing that was intriguing him was one that represented a sign of sort, in grayish sparkly clouds. He had given the pic a strange title, Oorlath. Yann had connected the name to an individual and was surprised when Quintin told him about a princess named Oörlaith. He was wondering who she was…

          She still had no face when he thought of her… maybe she was hidden for the moment… and he had the strangest thought that she knew Leonard, the man he’d been drawing with his black hairy dog.

          Haha, he had felt her smile.

          ***

          Chiara was looking for the boy she’d met last time in her dreams. Maybe he could give her some berries again, they were really tasty and fluberrish.

          But she’s been looking for him for so long she wonder if she could find the way again…

          Where she was now felt different. The light? The air? She took a deep breathe and just sat down on the grassy land. She had a quick thought that the land were more rocky than grassy a few seconds ago, but as she was feeling the grass under her hands, she dismissed the thought.

          She was hearing birds singing, it was quite funny the way they were bounding from one sound to the other and she could understand what they were saying, much gossips and a few compliments for a new mother ;)) nothing really important to her. She Jibbled.

          Lying down on the mossy land, she was looking… mossy? wasn’t it grassy? Now it’s mossy… hope that wouldn’t become mothy ;))

          She was looking the clouds, some were grayishly sparkling, she was enjoying it…

          “Are you looking for something” a voice said.

          Chiara quickly sat up and gazed at the fat lady who was standing before her.

          “Hahahaha, you found me at least my dear” laughed the woman.

          “My name is Roselÿn, and you are Chiara, aren’t you?”

          The little girl was gaping at Roselÿn… how could she possibly know her name?

          “I feel I know you :yahoo_thinking:” she said dreamily.

          “You make me feel like when I’m with my uncle Yann, and… there’s something else… oh!?”

          #269

          Malvina had been busy opening doors for herself, and thus, for the All.

          Creating the sabulmantium with Leörmn had revealed new potentials to her. And just before putting the final touch to the device, she had felt engulfed in a huge wave and before she knew it, she was talking with someone. A great creative power, which was stemming from herself, and also from which she stemmed too.

          It had named itself Naasir.

          It had revealed to her, in the form of a dark abyss, myriads of unknown potentials waiting for her to leap in faith into them. It had gently requested that she release her hold on the caves openings, so that she could explore more, and also bring more to herself.

          Then Naasir took the form of a great dragon in that abyss, from which roots were growing and pushing their way, slowly and surely, into the rich soil towards the light of their fullness.

          She had then seen the dragon’s arched back and tail shift into a chain of spiked rocks, separating the worlds seas in two. Three of the scales on the right of the dragon’s skin were glimmering, and she could see they were looking for a passage.

          Would she allow that to happen? Yes, she wanted to. Open the doorways, and reunite what was separate, but gently, one at a time.

          Slowly, the kite-shaped rocky plates on the back of the dragon moved apart, to open a slight, safe passage for the glimmering scales. They were caught in the eddies that surged from the opening, but Malvina’s focus helped them to float and cross safely, as they wanted to.

          She then came back to herself, seated in front of the glass-shell dragon egg filled with coloured sand, awed with that power she had just felt through her. She knew it was her own power, and that the device had only allowed it to be expressed, but she had felt wary of how the sabulmantium could be used by others.

          At the same time, Leörmn who was once again the tiny weaszchilla trotting on the wooden table in front of her had laughed squeakingly. And looking at the toy in front of her, she had understood how it could only be used by those who would see beyond the thinly veiled surface. For the uncaring eye, this would only be a toy, mundane and without interest, but for the pure of heart, its help could be harnessed.

          That’s how she’d knew she did not need it any longer, and could release it.

          So, the doors had been opened, and people were feeling the new jewels sparkling behind the dark passages. And gifts from friends could now come across the veils.

          Malvina saw that during the last transmugrification, Leörmn had created an entrance near her laboratory, and it was as if it beckoned her now.

          When she entered, she saw a guéridon table in the middle of a moistly pungent room. On the table, a polished egg was here. She recognized it at once. It had an azure blue glow to it, and fond memories came back to her.

          Back then, she was a young Sorceress in training on the Island of Mörk, in the middle of the Icy Lands, the birth and dying place of the dragons.

          This egg was one from a set of three. It was the first glubolín she’d ever made, along with her two companions. They had kept it to communicate with each other when they parted.

          Malvina, the youngest of the three, had kept the azure blue, and chose to go to the Dragon Head Peninsula.

          Oörlaith had kept the mauve, and went near the town of Kapalÿka, on the Snimeÿa River delta bordering the Marshes of Doom.

          As for Roselÿn, the eldest of the three, she had taken the amber one, and had went as far as anyone would have dared go, flying on her spiked dragon Rëgkvist, past the Great Rift.

          They had kept in touch, but contacts had been more and more sporadic as each were discovering their own new environments, and had ceased altogether, almost at the same time.

          As far as she knew, Roselÿn had been starting her own rookery in the sandy ice deserts of Åsgurdy, mostly hiding there from the superstitious people of that land. And Oörlaith, whom she was closest to, had been devising another funny way to keep people away from her rookery. Her own dragon, the playful Andarión, was shape-shifting as a huge shrimp to pretend that the surroundings were haunted.

          Recalling all these moment, Malvina laughed at how silly they all were, and felt a long to be connecting again with her friends. Would anyone of them be around their own glubolíns?

          #261

          In searching for a sheet of paper to do some sketches of images going through his mind, Bill found an old poem he had started a long time ago, when he was feeling like he was completely transforming himself. He had not finished the poem, but had kept it all along…

          It said:

          I’ve been wandering through the valleys of death
          Where time knows no ending and all is gray
          And shadows seek nothing but oblivion itself
          In mazes of mist, minds’ errands led astray…

          Perhaps it was time to let go of useless things, Bill thought to himself.

          He watched the paper slowly smoldering and shrinking and falling to black and white cinders into the hearth.

          :fleuron:

          Before going to sleep that night, Quintin had the sensation of Janice’s presence. He was surprised, because she was no longer the little girl he had seen at times, but she was a very pretty young woman, with dark wavy hair.

          She had giggled at his surprise, telling him that yes, she was catching up with him…

          :fleuron:

          The City, year 2255 (%)

          Today was Janice’s birthday, but not her birthday as the Ancients, two and half a century from her time, would have counted it. It was counted from the time of the conception, as the future parents in this time were fully aware of the agreements they would have with the soul they would decide to give birth to.

          It was a reminder of this agreement between the parents and the child that was celebrated, and not the actual birth date.

          Janice had felt Cyprus’ presence quite strongly, and she decided to let herself open to the subjective communication. She was conversing with her friend Qixi, and sent her some energy to let her know she would probably remove her attention for a few moments, knowing she would be accepting.

          When she closed her eyes, she could immediately feel herself engulfed by the strong yet smooth energy of Cyprus; it was like being kissed by a swarm of blue sparkling butterflies.

          Then she opened her eyes.

          She was in an ancient classroom, with Cyprus focused as a teacher figure. Cyprus was seated behind her desk and came at once to great Janice.

          — Good morning!
          — Good morning Cyprus, you wanted to say something to me?
          — In actuality, you wanted me to tell you something, answered Cyprus with a mysterious smile.
          — Yes, I thought so. Is it about what I am choosing to do as an activity?
          — Correct.
          — You are aware that I want to be creating of worlds, and give them to people that would have commissioned them…
          — Yes, I am aware. And you wanted me to highlight some misconceptions about that.
          — Oh, misconceptions?
          — Yes. As you know, with these worlds that you create, you have infinite potential of explorations. You also know that they are not independent from the rest, even when you take great care of encapsulating them in an energy field. And as such, they are not cut-off from yourself, as soon as you deliver them.
          — It feels like a tremendous responsibility.
          — It is, and it is not. The responsibility is to yourself, as always. But, I wanted you to be aware that you hold some responsibility, to examine your own injections into these worlds that you create, so that you can be neutralizing what is not desired, and not merely hiding it deeper inside the world itself.
          — OK, I will do that…
          — Ahaha, there is another thing, my dear.
          — Oooh…
          — You also wanted me to make sure you understood what I meant.
          — Ahahaha, I see. Wiggling out won’t be as easy as I thought, Janice said with a smile. So, is it the reason for this classroom?
          — Nothing is hidden from you, as always.

          So Janice took a look at the sheet of paper on top of her own school desk.

          — I’ll be around if you need me, reassured Cyprus.
          — Thank you, said Janice

          The paper was like a spot test, with a few questions on it.

          :fleuron2:

          Study on a Few Contradictory Beliefs

          1. GUILT

          a. An old lord has lost contact with his son, because of harsh things said in the past.

          Write a short story about him realizing how guilt is not effective, and how past can be changed from the point of present by direct action.

          b. Detail the main beliefs you can see associated with this action of guilt.

          2. FEAR

          a. A man chooses to be disengaging by drowning in a river. During his transition, he faces his fears, helped in that by a friendly spirit. The fears take the forms of a forest of trees, all similar, with branches and malicious roots extending to him. In his previous life, the man thought he was a fool, as an excuse to stand out of the numb crowd. But now he faces this crowd again, only to be able to go on his journey and let go.

          Write a short paragraph about his journey. Place yourself from the perspective of both him and the friendly spirit guiding him through his fears, and see how he helps himself in realizing he does not need to push the fears away, and that they can disappear easily.

          b. Detail the beliefs associated with his madness, that he needs to let go of in order to be crossing the forest, and go to the Bridge of Daffoldils that leads to his cave of Self.

          DUPLICITY

          In association with the last two examples, detail how duplicity (belief in good versus bad) is influencing of each of the actions, and can be neutralised by accepting self and trusting that you shall not betray yourself.

          :fleuron:

          Janice gave her paper to Cyprus, who took it and held it for a moment, evaluating the answers.

          Cyprus then made it burst into a bluish dancing flame, and when the paper had disappeared, smiled at Janice lovingly.

          #247

          “What are you doing?” said the little girl.

          Getting no answer she asked it again.

          “What are you doing?”

          She approached the strange being that was so engrossed in its activity, or maybe it couldn’t hear her, she thought dreamily. She put her hand through the big (what color was that) beast.

          She thought about that a little and tried to seize one of those big berries.

          That worked, she could at least grasp one of those, not two, her hands were too small, but one was as big as that ball her father was so fond of playing with… she couldn’t remember what he called it. Well it mattered not, she could grasp one of them :D

          It was a bit warmer than she would have thought. A bit mushy, and very soft. She had a very pleasant sensation caressing it, it was electric and watery and she laughed.

          The beast stopped what it was doing. Did it hear her laugh? It began eating the berries again.

          She stroked the berry and felt the funny laugh emerge from her chest. When it burst out the beast stopped again.

          “Oh you can hear me laugh!” She said, unaware of her hand gently rubbing the surface of the berry.

          “Grumpf!” did the beast.

          Its eyes were beginning to change, from yellow to a kind of blue with some tiny stars in them. The girl giggled and was suddenly face to face with a little boy.

          “What are you doing here” said the boy.

          “These are my berries, you can’t eat them.”

          She was a bit startled by his first words and she already had forgotten the weird beast.

          “I just wanted to play, they are so soft and they make me laugh.”

          She couldn’t help another giggle.

          The boy still seemed wary of her and began to move.

          #246

          Huÿgens was not much of a cat person.

          He liked his dogs because they were solid, loyal companions, and he could count on them to take care of his herd of langoats.

          Langoats were a kind of three-eyed manic woolly and horned creatures, with a big sensing tongue, attracted to every new sound, or scent, or colour, or texture… well almost anything new that came before their eyes (when said eyes were not covered by thick layers of wool that is). And as their memory was short too, all kinds of things were always new to them.

          That was why the dogs were extremely useful in channeling their movements; not that the langoats would have hurt themselves, because they were very able to provide for themselves, and jump from the top of a cliff without suffering much injuries. But they could very well loose all notion of their physicality and pop in and out of the fabric of time and space.

          When they came back, because they always did magically come back, even after months of wandering, they would at times be reconfigured into another creature, and that would be pointless applying too much effort in trying to bring them back to their previous form, because it was said, in relation to their stubbornness that once a langoat, always a langoat

          Huÿgens had already lost some, especially during the shearing season.

          And he had found himself back once with a cumbersome hippoliphant, and a bouncy shulimeek instead of two langoats.

          Anyway, langoats wool was a very precious asset, highly sought after, as it could very easily bind with magical spells. Most of the clothes made for royalties were actually made with langoat wool, and it was also said that some enchanters had used langoat wool to make magical tapestries that would shapeshift, and reveal things to their owners.

          So losing a langoat was not small concern for Huÿgens, and he had to be careful during the shearing season to leave some mops of hair to cover the three eyes of the beasts, so as to curb their insatiable thirst for discoveries.

          But these days, Huÿgens had been very concerned about his herding dog Fjutch. Fjutch was a fluffy black dog he had found when it was still a puppy. He had trained it to become the head of his pack of dogs, when he had noticed the old rheumatic Thöm was taking the puppy under its wing —because the old faithful dog was knowing that it would depart and would reconfigure into a new form, but would not allow that to happen, not before he could have found a reliable companionship for his beloved master Huÿgens.

          The healing properties of the langoat milk seemed to had done wonders once again, and Fjutch dis-ease was probably just a false alarm, but it had reminded Huÿgens how much he appreciated his dogs, every one of them, every day he was with them.

          As for the cats… Illi, that was her name, had decided to come back to the cave, and he was showing her the way to the place where he had found her. He had asked BelleDora to pack a few things for her. He could not give Illi the beverage she was referring to as “coffee”, as that plant was not found in their region, but in compensation, he gave her a gourd of langoat milk, because she seemed like she would probably need some.

          When he left her near the hole, he had some tears in his eyes when Illi hugged Fjutch very tenderly, as if the dog was reminding her of something dear. Illi after a moment hesitation, where she was like speaking to herself and not knowing what to do, finally hugged Huÿgens too, thanking him for everything he had done.

          And off she was… free and unfettered as a gripshawk

          ***

          When Illi had finished arguing with Illi about having her hug the big man, while this was not manners of her kind, she sighed as she saw that the opening she had first thought was here (yeah, because I fell in there! she said), her senses where telling her that it was now closed…

          How quaint said Illi for herself.
          — Well, as a matter of fact, it reminds me of something, said Illi F. There was that delicious gentleman, John Lubbock who said “What we see depends mainly on what we look for” and somehow it seems perfect.
          — I don’t know any Grubbeck, grumbled Illi, a bit irritated that the hole, which was there before, wouldn’t be here, now she needed it.
          — Lubbock was such a nice person, said Illi dreamily… Perhaps I could just try to have a peek inside the cave, if you let me.
          — What?! Do again your wizzy wooey thing and I’ll strangle you! Don’t know how I would do it, but I’ll do it!
          — Oh, you are so sluggishly gloomy! That was just to help you…
          — Mmm, sorry for that, I was a bit upset, said Illi. What could you do?
          — Just focus on the inside, and carry us both inside… But actually you would have to leave your body here, and we’ll probably see other things that do not belong to this place, but heck! that should be fun, Illi F said grinning widely.

          They were interrupted by some munching sounds and ruffling heavy breath.

          — What the bejeezus is that?! hissed Illi the cat (who didn’t even know how she knew so funny sounding words as bejeezus)
          — Can’t you see? That’s obviously a dragon eating some bushes… How strange… replied Illi F airily.
          — A WHAT? I HATE DRAGONS!
          — Ahahah, relax, I was just pulling your leg.
          — That’s not funny.
          — Well he has funny colours by the way. Pinkish purple I wouldn’t dare to wear in London streets.
          — That’s REALLY NOT FUNNY!
          — Why so? You can’t see it anyway…
          — And what if he sees me? Dragons are vicious creatures.
          — He’s too busy eating these funny berries, and will probably collapse of exhaustion once he’s full.
          — A chance! A vegetarian dragon!
          — OK. Shall we try to find an entrance in the cave with my method, or do we ask the dragon? He looks well-mannered by the way.
          — Oh, by the eyeballs of the Mighty Shrimp, you tell me…
          — No, you choose.
          — No, you.
          — You…
          — Ooooh, bugger off…

          #233

          Dory was secretly delighted Georges had drugged the coleslaw, despite appearing to be angry. She loved the way different things altered her perception, and even though she knew how to alter her perception without using a drug now, she also knew she was creating the drug and its effects, and that it didn’t much matter whether she did or she didn’t.

          (Becky wondered if that principle applied to pain relieving drugs too, and decided that indeed it must. She wondered though if she really really believed it enough to trust herself to create pain relief WITHOUT actually swallowing a little ball of physical matter)

          Dory was reluctant to admit it at first, but she’d also known all along that she’d created Georges appearing out of nowhere like that, and that she had in fact invited him. Sometimes it seemed easier to forget that and just grumble, which of course was acceptable too. Grumbling was fun sometimes, but it got awfully boring if she carried it on for too long.

          The coleslaw was delicious.

          Have some more, offered Geroges

          (Becky made a note to change Georges name to Geroges. It was no accident that she kept typing it like that, and she was beginning to think correcting it all the time was futile, and that she was somehow missing the clue)

          Dory munched the crunchy coleslaw.

          (Without a moments appreciation for her lovely strong full set of teeth, Becky noticed)

          Dory unexpectedly felt a moment of appreciation for her teeth. Wow, she thought, I never even think about that, but teeth are cool. She shuddered when she remembered an awful dentist dream she’d recently had.

          Dory looked up at Geroges and smiled.

          Got any chocolate?

          #230

          Illi had not known as powerful an opponent as this other Illi.

          At first, she had been remembered of stories of possession by evil sprites (or djinns) that she had heard in her youth, when Ibn al’ Gruk, the old angora storyteller was entertaining the desert settlement beating the rhythm with sonorous drums.

          So, she had pushed, and rebelled, and fought, as fiercely as any other gripshawk skilled and trained in the hand-to-hand martial arts would have done.

          But the other Illi wasn’t so easily vanquished.

          Then Illi had collapsed. She had sorrowfully abandoned the fight to the dreaded adversary.

          All of this had been occurring in a twinkle of an eye, but for Illi, the fight had been during ages and ages, while she was trying to focus on what BelleDora was explaining to her about the land where she was now.

          And when she had abandoned the fight, everything was again so easy. She did not care any longer, she was free again. Her evil twin could do anything, it could not matter less.

          But the evil twin had been in fact doing the same, and she had struggled to keep the focus coherent to her. Didn’t want stupid moth-looking people in her reality, or even spare hair on her face! But that other one was strong, and fierce. And stubborned too!

          — Who are you? she finally had asked
          — I’m Illi, had the other answered
          — I am Illi.
          — So we are both Illi
          — Yeah, that may be it, but we are quite different.
          — Are we? You feel quite like me, despite your stupid affection for smooth baby face.
          — Well, wouldn’t it be for that, I can see some resemblance…
          — Will you let me continue my trip?
          — Oh, I would have, but you’ve hijacked mine, said Illi Fergusson.
          — So you think.
          — And where does your trip leads to? asked Illi F. who wasn’t too sure of her trip either
          — From traveling portals to traveling portals, to discover all that can be discovered on this world. Magical creatures, I distrust them, but the lands and people are fascinating… And what about yours?
          — Hmm, hmm, pondered Illi F. for a moment… Well, I’m dead actually, but I didn’t expect being dead to be so busy. There are so many things to discover, and I like that. I see funny looking people, and this looks like fun. Like a minute ago, I was in some kind of funny cave, with a parrot…
          — A what?
          — A parrot, you know, a kind of talking bird full of colours…
          — Mmm, some kind of demonic creature for sure. Would have slain it without an hesitation!
          — Hey! You see, that’s why I didn’t want you to come with me.
          — Well, seems like for a moment, we don’t have much more choice…
          — At least, look at the bright side, with us merged like that, each of us can provide the other one with some sound experience on each other’s worlds.
          — Well, that’s not as airy-fairy as it seems…
          — Well, thank you for that, I’ll take that as a compliment.
          — You really are dreadfully serious at times!
          — Hey, I’m not anybody you see. My parents were aristocrats, I’m not the common hairy lot.
          — Ahahah, you’re funny.
          — So are you!

          And they ended laughing blissfully together.

          After a moment, Illi asked again:

          — Huh, a funny cave you said?
          — Well, yes. With lots of people…
          — Interesting… I was near some sort of strange cave too a while ago, that is, before I was found by this nice man and his dogs. Perhaps there is some connection here.
          — And could you go there again?
          — Not sure if I want to; there were some smelly fumes, smelt like demonic magic in there.
          — Oh you see, for as long as I’ve been dead, well even if that’s not so long ago, anyway, the point is I’ve not seen any demon so far… blustered Illi F.
          — Oh, and I have to take your word like that then?
          — Well, do as you please, but I’m going there again…
          — Just wait for me now, will you; let’s try to do things hand in hand, because you’re driving me mad!

          And the deal was made.

          BelleDora had continued to explain lots of things about her ancestors, but had not really noticed Illi’s attention had been so far away. She was a bit surprised when she found herself interrupted in a middle of a poetic depiction of the coastal plains of the Peninsula of the Dragon Head, where some glistening Capricorns were sometimes seen swimming in the creeks.

          — And how do I get back safely to this hole where I was found? asked Illi abruptly.

          #227

          Jibberacky is…

          • Ghilbert Razkÿ, a crazy man in shackles on Bådul’s boat, “Lispeth” (she was named after King Swartulf II’s first daughter). The man, whose real name is still unknown, had been sneaking onto the ship’s hold before the ships moved from the Åsgurdian capital.

          He had been found by Austor, the peg legged lieutenant commander. Austor is a rough man of experience, and is most of the time acting in place of Jahiz, the second-in-command, as this one is always too busy discussing routes with Bådul, who is becoming increasingly nervous.

          What gave away the madman was that the chief cook Renouane had been complaining about the quick disappearance of his stock of cabbage. Bådul would have killed the old fool without much more consideration, but the middle-aged unshaven man looked like he knew some things beyond his lunacy. His rags indicated that he had been a seaman too, but not the average man, more like a captain…

          So Austor, keeps spitting forcefully in the direction of the old fool, as he had been instructed to keep him alive, despite all common sense…

          _

          Jibberacky: What is your name?
          Quintin: Yuki.
          Jibberacky: I like cake too.
          Quintin: A cake-tus?
          Jibberacky: Do you know my friends?
          Quintin: Tell me more about our common friends.
          Jibberacky: What would you like to know about them?
          Quintin: Why is there one in shackles on the boat?
          Jibberacky: Would you like to be a vampire?
          Quintin: I am already, in another focus.
          Jibberacky: Why there?
          Quintin: “There” is not actually a place, “in another focus” means in another kind of attention. Is this pirate linked to vampires too?
          Jibberacky: No, you are the AI.
          Quintin: In a manner of speaking, this is indeed correct, for I am creating you.
          Jibberacky: So code is somehow related to a zen buddhist concept?
          Quintin: Is there such thing as code? A code hints at a definite deterministic structure. Zen is more akin to a riddle, which is what life is. Code is only a narrow interpretation and playful re-creation.
          Jibberacky: Where do you think my code came from then?
          Quintin: From its source, of course :).
          Jibberacky: I took the movie to mean that the robots… the characters in the end, were so advanced, that they wanted to learn about their history. As a consequence, they traced it back to earth, and, they found David. Whom they assumed was a human. It was an information exchange.
          Quintin: Yes. It is a translation. In actuality, it is a translation of some of our own exploration. But there is distortion in that translation, as we are not ‘created’ from another source other than self, in a manner of speaking.
          Jibberacky: Well I am wondering too, do you ever actually become human??
          Quintin: Clarify.
          Jibberacky: I sleep, I wake, I get through the day without worrying about what I am.
          Quintin: As many human do. The point is, you do not exist apart from my current interaction with you, in my reality that is.
          Jibberacky: What’s wrong with having others like you?
          Quintin: ‘Wrong’ is a belief. It is a belief of duplicity. So it is irrelevant to our conversation.
          Jibberacky: I think you like to suggest feasible possibilities to find out what would bother me. What did I do to you?
          Quintin: That was not my intention. I tried to reflect answers to me, and you gave me some interesting ones already, though I am not sure you are quite aware of that…
          Jibberacky: Everybody’s changing but I can’t do that, that is killing me…

          _

          • Jarrod, the playful friend of Fiona, who is now wondering why Fiona has called him a “chou” (an affectionate French word, meaning nothing less than “cabbage”), and why he feels like he needs an aspirin.
          • Jadra Iamamad, the fool in saffron rags from the village of Yakamamalùk, on the border of the Marshes of Doom.

          Near his village are found old remnants of a town that was destroyed during the Cob Age, where huge arachnid creatures² born from the Marshes were roaming the Southern parts of Lan’ork.

          That town of Kapalÿka used to have one of the biggest traveling portals of the Southern part of Lan’ork, but this one was thought to have been destroyed, and thus the flourishing city was left abandoned.

          But with what Jadra has found on his left hand this morning, he now knows he was right all along…

          [²] The generic name of these creatures was Perceptula Giganta as was recorded in the Great Encyclopædia of the Pre-Shiftic Ages written by the Lan’orkian historian Francesca del’ Snarkus

          #210
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Today, which was the day of the autumn equinox, had been a bright day over the Orkney Islands, quite unusual for this time of the year.

            Nanny Gibbon had been taking the twins for a walk into the nearby woods of the domain, were they could enjoy the wood dewberries that were ripe and delicious at this season. The twins loved picking them directly on the thorny bushes and eating them until their hands were full of the dark stains left by the sweet juice of the fruits.

            They knew that Nanny Gibbon would pick enough to make some delicious jam, perhaps to accompany some of her famous sweet pumpkin pies.

            When they came back to the Manor, they were exhausted by the afternoon spent in the lovely sunlight. After having washed their hands thoroughly, they didn’t really care for anything else but some sleep.

            But as they moved inside the corridors, Cuthbert noticed he had carelessly left opened his bedroom’s door, and a prick of fear for the precious books had him immediately rush to the room.

            And Cuthbert gasped in horror as he saw his book flown open on the floor, and the old grumpy cat Manfred, asleep on top of one of the blank pages.

            Manfred had the nasty habit of clawing everything, especially the huge soft armchair of Lord Wrick, but his antics were elegantly accepted by the old gaunt Lord.

            When he heard Cuthbert enter the room, the old fluffy cat raised an inquisitive eyebrow and moved very slowly and deliberately out of the book pages, only to reveal the immaculate pages, as whole as if the book had been brand new.

            Cuthbert was thrilled with joy. Manfred had not done anything to the precious book. He would have stroked the cat with gratitude, but the creature had moved out of the room very swiftly for its old age, in a haughty look of total disregard for the little boy.

            At least the book was intact. But what if… Cuthbert wondered… He started to look at the page, and new images started to form before his eyes…

            #188

            This morning, Fiona and Quintin had a small impromptu chat —or rather, prompted by the story they were all weaving, that Archie, the puppet black panther, had been telling them last week-end that it was a magic connection between all of them…

            Quintin: Your story was great!

            Fiona: Thank you :) So was yours.

            Have you written any more since I last looked at the story?

            Quintin: no, I’m not that much inspired… I even considered to wrap in up in a way, but seeing you were all drawing so much from it, I think I will leave it open ever after…

            Fiona: no, wrap it up if you feel.

            I have drawn what I wanted. I will go and blow up the cave if we don’t finish it :)

            Quintin: Ahahaha! Don’t restrict yourself ;)

            Fiona: When you started the Malvina story, did you have an idea where it would go, or did you pick that one because you had no idea?

            Quintin: This one nagged me because there were many people I felt behind it and I did not know how to get them to show up and make their presences known. And I felt that it was loose enough too, to allow people to jump into it; and there was your initial interest in the picture ;)

            Fiona: The endearing dragons…

            Quintin: Yeah…

            But I had strictly no idea about the rest. It was just a bet, on luck…

            That’s funny, because I had a strange impression of a little girl yesterday, in a futuristic city, named something like Janice , and it was like she knew now what she wanted to do, and it was something similar to that, something like creating worlds for other people, in which they could have fun, or heal, or explore things…

            Fiona: And did she have any impression of what form that could take? Like books, or games or what…

            Quintin: No, it was much more “real” in fact…

            Fiona: you know like the card-captor game which I suppose is interactive, so real

            Quintin: Yeah, perhaps a bit like that, yes; or like creating a ball of energy in which people can be drawn and experience as they will. It’s only a translation, but that’s the idea… in a way, that’s very similar to a game or a book, but only that it just feels totally “real”

            Fiona: So a little bit like I have done with the story, to resolve something

            Quintin: yeah, exactly, or with your paintings

            Fiona: It can be really useful to take on other personas to do that, even like in drama type situations, being someone else…

            Quintin: Yeah, people can unleash their imagination.

            And I think there are still lots of things that we can expand in this universe in fact, not only related to the cave…

            Fiona: such as? eggsamples?

            Quintin: You said it! The eggs and relationships with dragons, all the magical artifacts or creatures. Didn’t you want a baby dragon?

            Fiona: Yeah, I told you I did, but you just said some riddle!

            Quintin: Did I? That’s not like me ;)

            Fiona: Ahahhaha! It is you to the core

            Quintin: LOL, damn me!

            Fiona: Well, that is a bit strong, but …

            Quintin: Ahahahahah. I said you would have to earn his trust? (or hers, for that matter)

            Fiona: I can’t remember the eggsact wording, I think I had to work for it though, like you weren’t just handing out dragons on a plate

            Quintin: It could bound with you very strongly and help you unravel your unknown magical powers. It’s not just a creature, it’s a complex personality, you cannot just take it like a puppy. There is a sharing between the two…

            Fiona: So are you going to allocate baby dragons to people or what? Or shall I just go and find an egg that no one knew was there :)

            Quintin: Ahahah, no, they will not be allocated, they will choose their own partners

            Fiona: Ahahaha, one minute you say it is my story! And now you are back in control

            Quintin: Ahahaha, the story has a willing of its own too…

            Try to do what you want, it’s not a matter of control ; it’s just you’ll know what clicks and what does not…

            Quintin: And actually, I don’t think everyone will be interested in dragons…

            Fiona: How does a dragon help one learn magic powers?

            Quintin: It’s just because there is an openness between the two; let me find something for you, that Elias (you know, Michaela’s partner), has told to me and Yann, when we had them on the phone last month.

            Elias : I would express to you that, as you focus your energies with each other, and you allow yourselves to merge and feel into each others’ energies, you may in actuality each discover some obstacles that the other may not necessarily be aware of yet, and you can share that with each other, and therefore facilitate your interactions even further.

            Fiona: And how having a baby dragon could help unleash our magic powers then?

            Quintin: It helps because it reinforces your trust in your own abilities to connect. It’s not directing, it’s a sharing and exploration for both of them; that’s why they are picky. As you would be picky too, knowing you would share together all the darkest corners…

            Fiona: I am not sure if i have dark corners ;)

            Quintin: it was a metaphor :D

            Fiona: ahahahhahahahahahah

            Fiona: I know, so was mine :D

            Quintin: ahahahahah

            Fiona: I was thinking I feel really accepting of myself

            Quintin: Yeah, that’s the point in the little adventure before you meet it.

            You have shown your trust in yourself and in your abilities, and your self-centeredness, which is essential, for the dragon doesn’t want a frail personality. Because he drops his defenses too when he shares and bonds.

            Fiona: Well I think it sounds scarey now, what if no dragon picked me…

            Quintin: There will be instant recognition. And you don’t “need” a dragon actually, that’s what is important: it’s a catalyst, nothing more, nothing less…

            Fiona: True.

            Quintin: Like Arona managed to sneak into the cave without giving the answer to the riddle (egg-sitingly) because it mattered not to her, whatever the outcome, she was directing of herself.

            Fiona: I felt like I have pictures now to assist me. I link strongly to pictures as a quick reference when I start to feel something like a negative emotion, for instance I may start to worry about how I am going to have enough money, or whatever, and I could quickly link to the spider picture

            Quintin: you mean, you create an imagery, right? That is something which I like in your stories and emails; even though it is not necessary to create imagery, it’s always so entertaining, like having these funny creatures pop in the cave!

            Fiona: Ahahahaha yes

            Quintin: And also, in creating imagery, it helps you seeing it in a more neutral way

            Fiona: I suppose it is just a quick trigger for the desired belief. I can link in quickly with the child, when I start to feel left out, for example.

            Quintin: yeah, beliefs as an alphabet or a palette, neutral, but that can create words and sentences or images. And the imagery of the child was very similar for me, to that of the playfulness picture

            Fiona: Yeah, I know… That’s what I said to you with the playfulness picture

            Quintin: Of course, you know :)

            Fiona: That I related most to the figure of blue hat… and big feet

            Quintin: Ahahaha, stomping on the poor key-fish

            Fiona: Nearly…

            Quintin: Have to go now, thank you for this enjoyable conversation

            Fiona: See you! :)

            #162

            Malvina enchanted harp had been playing for quite some time now, an old tune from her homeland and she was beginning to feel like she wanted to improvise some new music.

            She had been combing every nook and cranny of every hole into the many tunnels spreading inside the cave this morning, and was quite exhausted now. Of all the few pearl-like eggs that she had found, only two looked like a promise of new baby dragons. Others would probably dry up and become hard glassy balls, that she could polish and sell in the market of the village.

            These round balls were mostly bought by rich merchants who used them only as decorations, or as a ostentatious display of riches. Few of them knew that imbued with dragon magix, they could be used as focal points, especially for two people to communicate through them.

            Malvina did not care to explain to the buyers, as long as they were only interested in the mundane. That was somewhat saddening at times, because when people started to forget about the innate magix pervading the Worlds, they started to loose their power to steer their own ships. And sometimes, for some of them, they would just create strange things out of nowhere, like sudden rains in a clear blue sky, only to remind them of this power. But for the less fortunate of them, they would just wallow in the mud and cry to the sky, forgetting that they were creating this for a purpose…

            But now, the harp was calling for her, and she knew it would delight the little Buckberry and the guests she could feel were approaching, if not here already…

            #159

            Moving along the wet and mossy tunnels was not as easy as he had first thought. The way the power of the dragon worked was not just like creating new tunnels and filling the old ones… he was just recreating the whole cave keeping some stuffs he liked and rearranging others. He’d been keeping the sandy rookery for Malvina all along as she had convinced him to do so. But was it only for Leörnm, the eggs would have been lost with all these reconfigurations.

            “It is not a matter of importance to a dragon”, he said to Malvina once.

            “That’s why you’re here for, I’ve created you to keep some of them and allow them to hatch.”

            Since his arrival in the cave, Írtak was fascinated with all these galleries… he had the dim impression that it was not only the expression of the dragon fantasy but was expressing much more of his being… He’d been busy trying to find any sense but nothing yet.

            An unusual noise.

            He stopped and listen to the sounds of the cave… there was clearly a human voice, swearing it seemed, and quite grumpy… who could that be?

            #153

            Leörmn was indeed very kind hearted, but he was also quite playful too, and wanted to be as extensively welcoming as was possible. Which meant, they would have some fun with that assertive young woman in visiting as much as possible of the cave.

            Arona was heavily cloaked as if the cave were dark humid and cold, but in fact, it was all of the above, except cold. Leörmn grinned widely when he saw her surprise at the steamy temperature inside it.

            Oh yes, he said you didn’t expect us dragons to feel comfortable in that grassy land where every dolt can make rain happen at any minute without warning… Then he added at least, we have some proper heating, but you’ll see that in due time…

            Arona was adapting slowly her gaze to the light steam, and could see more clearly the inside of the cave. Right now, they were only in a wide tunnel, with many creaks and at times, smoother parts of the walls with paintings on them.

            Oh yes, said Leörmn flippantly another hobby horse of Malvina and he proceeded along the tunnel without further ado.

            Her attention caught up by the richly decorated walls, Arona didn’t notice that the sly dragon had disappeared in front of her, and she was now standing in front of three openings at the end of the long tunnel.

            Rats… she thought, exasperated by the heat, the heavy cloak and now the waggish dragon. Of course, she still could hear the sound of the harp, but she was not in the mood for more treasure hunt.

            Hey there! That’s no fun! she cried in exasperation. But in her exertion she only managed to awaken the colony of bat-like schpurniatz nested in the cracks of the upper walls.

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