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888 ^th comment
8/8/8 @ 8:08 on the international date line

— Ahaha, don’t you think our dear Finn will die of exhaustion after 400+ pages of pooh-reading? Yurick said mischievously to Dory.
— Well, she isn’t the one who’ll have to make the cross-referencing system Dory answered.

“Good point” Yurick was thinking…
“Let’s just not forget it would be for the fun of the adventure. Nothing else, no other constraint…”
“And in any case, nothing will happen before the Circle of Eights is crossed: 888 ^th comment on the 8 ^th of August 2008”

Tina scowled: “What?”
Six at the top means: A goat butts against a hedge.
“Oh, that must be another of Becky’s evil doing…”

Al added after a moment: “when I scrap the last line, the draw is not bad either …”

“Oh,” he said, looking at the numbering… “Eighteen to go in eight days…”
“Yes,” said Tina, “we will have to slow down now, better tell Becky that, or she will see our entries and go crazy with new ones”
“Ahahaha” Al couldn’t imagine how Becky would react at someone telling her NOT to do something — it was like playing “you won’t dare” with a child

Interesting that we are heading to the 888 ^th comment in the play, and it will soon be August the 8 ^th with a third eight in the year number…
Will we make it in time though? Get around that circle of eights? the thought left him pondering.

New Venice, July, 1 ^st 2035

The night was hot in New Venice at this time of the year. The weather patterns had been steadily shifting for many years, and the climate was now sub-tropical in the inundated Big Apple, as more and more people resented the usual coldness of winters, and had subjectively agreed upon a heightening of the temperatures of a few degrees.

Though accustomed to tell his body to relax, and vibrate at a lower frequency to counteract the sticky and displeasing effects of the heat, Al was finding sleep hard to find. Usually, he would attribute those moments of twitching slumberness to mass accessing of subjective information and bringing them to the objective. With the eclipse that would occur in the next weeks, those were still time of great cosmic synchronistic congruence.

Needless to say, he and Tina had been somewhat stirred by Becky’s sudden casualness, and relative abandon not only of the Reality Play but also of her three lovely first born to her friends.
People of that mysterious facility that Becky had briefly spoken so highly of had been doing a fantastic job, considering the very early birth, but still, Al had soon noticed the babies were displaying some kind of emotionless state which was eerie to observe in children that young. He had first thought of a remnant from the birth trauma, but it appeared that they were all perfectly aware, and even more than that, accutely aware of their environment to the point of displaying qualities of awareness akin to telepathy or pre-sentience.

Sam’s innate talent with the young ones had been very beneficial to them, and Al was hoping, would help them access their emotional communications as a guidance system to navigate within the immense and potentially overwhelming quantity of subjective information they were given such an easy access to.

Finally after having spent so much time before the cyputer, Al was collapsing from tiredness. He threw himself on the tatami for a healthy dose of rejuvenating sleep. Or so he thought…

Al woke up with a chill, sweat beading over his eyebrow.
He remembered.
They would come… Hybrids from their future… He remembered having met one a few years ago.
A strange bald guy with piercing eyes and strange snorting twitches on his face. One moment he was talking to him in the middle of the ramp waiting for a condocab, and the moment after, he had forgotten all of this encounter.
The guy had said intently to wait for the time when the Dream would remind them it was the Time of the Reunion.
So what was next? Aliens coming in their aluminum flying saucepans making mosquito sounds?
That sounded awfully like the outrageous rants that old Russian guy named Pasha was making years ago in the archives of Dory —which they had taken as a basis for their Reality Play…

Gosh, that dream was so vivid, it couldn’t be a coincidence… Especially since the first Hybrids to make contact all looked like they were clones of Becky!

Funny, thought Yurick.
A little bit earlier he had been distracted out of a sentence by an eerie outline of New Zealand islands on the front of a shop in a nearby street, which had reminded him of their friend Finn.

But now his attention was unexpectedly caught as he was passing by the bank’s corporate logo in the other side of the street.
That creature looks oddly familiar …

It only took a few seconds for Armelle to deflate though she donned off with a hint of reluctance the delightfully filling feeling of power she had acquired notwithstanding the slight overweight (a few grams at best, given her immaterial nature of pristine white hallowy owly essence, but you could not reasonably expect to be really ascended with even no more than a few grams of physicality left, could you?)…

So, it only took a few seconds, which in essence’s inner time was tantamount to a mere eon (a merry myriad of seconds).

But then, all was so clear.
She was seeing the trail that was left unwatched by the spiders, and that her friends would take to the wort-hole.

— Claude, my dear, would you be so kind as to oblige me for a few minutes? she regally asked her host of the branches, taking great care not to be too self-conscious, which would irremediably make her roll her eyes and lose all composure.
— Well… err… I s’pose yes…
— Indeed. Then, take good care of the wort-hole, and wait for us to come back, and then lead us back to the place from whence you came.
— Wouldn’t do that, if I were you… It’s full of magpies there…
— Oh bugger now. Armelle sighed so profusely that it made the hair raise on Claude’s head. The Snoot told me the way would be clear, so… have a little faith in me she said in a cocker’s voice.

And there, in a majestic elan, she went back to the spot where her friends were now gently getting together.

When she arrived, Akayli the were-lynx had just been deposing his precious package of the two silk-wrapped parents at the feet of little Anita. The first minutes of doubt passed, her hesitant face started to show a smile, knowing that her parents would be fine.

Yuki was for himself all very impressed by the transformergence of his friends, and was finding that a very good idea to get more focused.
However, he could hear the yet unvoiced protests of Armelle at his yet unphrased suggestion of a mergence
— Now way I get my white feathers mixed in that bloody smelly goat’s fur!
And of course, he could hear too the yet unvoiced slew of outraged protests
— Smelly goat? Who you bloddy call a smelly goat, you persnickity saucer-eyed shuttlecock?

Yet… Yuki, gazing for a few seconds of essence in the stream of possibilities, weighted again the enticing result that a mergence of the three of them would produce…
Which would be… a… grabbiffon.
A magnificent winged horned cotton-tailed… sort of… gryffun… or grumpfoon.
Well… perhaps Armelle was right in the not-yet-voiced first place.

That would just be plain ridiculous.

…

So… what are we waiting for?! Let’s do it now!! all three of them laughed in unison

— If you have an idea, then tell it quick, said Akita, this place gives me the creeps.
— Remember how Kay’s having this nice werewolf form in his shape-shifting bag of tricks?
— Yes, but he cannot really hold it for very long… Wouldn’t be easier if you just teleport us or something?
— Well, the thing is, yes, that would work for us, but that would take too long to teach you, not to say the parents. We can’t really count on their cooperation for now… and it’s perhaps better that way, because I’m not sure they would really believe they can do it anyway.
— So the real question is, Kay interrupted, how do we move quickly with two stoned weights?
— Exactly. My suggestion is that we combine our energies. I must say I’m quite fond of the werewolf outfit, it’s brawny and forces respect, and besides, you and Akita know how to operate it.
— I think I get your point. So how do we do?
— Just let Kay merge with you, and I’ll facilitate the anchoring, said Araili.

Kay started to swirl around Akita in a swoosh of air, while Araili faded into the background to become a force-field around them, getting tighter and tighter, until all three were a ball of light and poofed back in the form of a twelve-feet tall impressive werelynx.

GRRRREAT, growled Akayli the beast. Let’s move on.

Baring his claws, he delicately tore off the mummifying silky threads to unwrap the two parents, and taking each of them under the hairy soft grey arms, sprung out of the nest to the forest in quick bounces.

Old Narani is becoming too soft.
While the attraction of the hole was intensely beckoning, Phurt had been appointed by a strange twist of fate to the guard of the prisoners by the Old Mother.

Bugger Narani whisspered Phurt, why not just kill them, these stupid two-legged animals. Why the pain of keeping them alive? Good thing the daily dose of sedative venom had them quiet now. They would only scare the mooing preys. Stupid, stupid.
Of course, it would be easy to just sink a little more than usual her sharp tooth into their neck so fragile. A regrettable accident…
Phurt couldn’t help but smile a grin as wide as her hairy eight-eyed face. But she wasn’t known as the Doctor of Breath for nothing. Her mere breath could be as sweet as a jasmine scent or terribly deadly. She had never missed a target, never could have.
She was no mere Spinner; how could the Mother have put her to such a slighting task. Degrading. For her, the most promising Hunter of her generation to be doing this while they all were securing the hole perimeter.

She would have to go. Something was nudging her to move, something like a fluid water sound, that whispered that nothing could happen to those prisoners. No one would be fool enough to dare to enter the Nest.
Ahaha, why would she care? Nobody would know. And the little ones would alert her in any case.

With a prodigious jump, she sprung to the forest in the direction of the hole. She couldn’t be denied her destiny.

— Is it gone now? a voice whispered under a pile of giant ferns
— I think it is growled Araili’s voice Thanks to the Snoot’s power of suggestion, I suppose… The Snoot might find spiders eggs delicacy enough to help us in our rescue operation.
— Shall we go there now? Kay? Ready to go and report back if everything’s clear?
— Ready.

Rafaela was not finding it very difficult to jump on the rocky slopes. It was only difficult for her to remember to stay physically focused so that Anita wouldn’t fall to a certain death. And of course, even more difficult to resist to the attraction of nibbling a few crunchy thistles and brambles that grew here and there.
But Yuki’s attention was here to remind her, and so far, their progression had been smooth and easy.

But all of a sudden, the small pink nose of Yuki raised in quicker spasms sniffing the air intently.
— What? What? asked Rafaela who almost forgot her focusing. What?! Did I fart or something?

Anu who was having the time of her life jumping on the coarse back of the goat giggled at her clueless question.

— I think the spiders are moving too. We’ll be reaching the hole before them, and the Snoot tells me they won’t be moving close to it. But they won’t let anything or anyone get out of it. Let’s hope dear Armelle will spot a path for our friends.
— Not to worry, Rafaela said matter-of-factly, Army is good at spoohtting. She’s the best I know at that.
— OK, let’s move on…

Claude was finally seeing a pinhole of light, at a close distance. He could just continue to crawl out his way to the light, and he would soon be release. And to cheer him up, he reminded himself that no man nor beast he feared, with his phenomenal strength agility and speed he now had. Too bad he didn’t have any time to get a proper super-hero attire he smiled to himself.

On Tikfijikoo, the Magpie’s energy maze-cloak was now lift. The fury of the cyclone was now in its full power, and the Magpies were starting their swift deployment.
The item was left unguarded in the operation room, as far as they could tell, and in the chaos of the elements, surely a few magpies would be unnoticed.

They had to move quick now. The portal would be opened soon too. They couldn’t come back without bringing “it” back with them.

mean Sean
Sky felt fry
Lady dance
Yurick meant
Start Earth remembering
Thinking door
Dream timeline
… began
pink help indeed body

“I lay on a couch in my normal clothes and a nurse put some anaesthetic drops in my eyes. Dr Allamby then put a retainer on one eye to hold the lids wide open. He used a microscope while he asked me to look into a blue light. First, he made marks with ink on my cornea. Then he used a hand-held device to send radio waves into my cornea, making eight tiny dots in a ring around the edge, near the white of my eye. This changes the shape of the cornea, making it more curved, which increases the focus power of the eye and so helps to improve vision.
It didn’t hurt at all. It took about five minutes to do one eye. Then he did the same thing with my other eye, though this time he put two circles of eight dots around my cornea. This was to sharpen my reading vision”

I googled Circle of Eights

Give pairs seven post-its and ask the children to write down the main scenes. Take feedback and allow children to adjust/add to their post-its. Pairs then work on listing the scenes and sticking them in order. They should disregard any scenes that are not crucial, and just keep the key events.

Agree with the class the basic key scenes. Demonstrate how to make a few notes about each scene to help with a retelling.

In pairs, children make notes about each scene to help with retelling the tale. These should be kept to the barebones. In pairs, practice retelling the story, taking it in turns. Then put pairs together to retell their versions to another pair.

If time allows, build this up to circles of eight.

End the session by hearing several retellings. Encourage the children to evaluate between tellings, refining and improving their version.

Explore ways of altering the retellings. Children decide to alter one aspect. They then retell the tale, with the alteration. Pairs should then move into fours
and retell their new versions.

Build up to circles of eight if time allows.

The children recommend a version they have heard that is really effective. Listen to these, and as a class evaluate what makes an effective retelling. This enables more in-depth evaluation, especially by the storytellers themselves.

Inspired by Tina’s last additions to the Reality Play’s taxonomy, Al decided to do some changes into the Reality Play as well.
It was not so much Malvina-centric now, and deserved some more appropriate name.
Of course, they already had the author’s pseudonym: Yurara Fameliki .

Let it be that way for the moment. Circle of Eights, Stories by Yurara Fameliki .