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  • #624

    Instantly Elizabeth regretted her spikey, voodish behaviour and scrambled to retrieve the telepooh. Her mother was Vood by nature, a particularly dysfunctional personality type, and Elizabeth had struggled all her life to avoid similar behavioural patterns. Her friends, and certainly her ex-husbands, would say perhaps with only partial success.

    Apologies Bronkel, I was engrossed in my writing. How can I help you?

    Bronkel appeared to be covered in bandages from what she could see of his upper torso, giving him the appearance of a rather odd mummy like creature. He was constantly searching for new beauty treatments to extend his youthful goodlooks, however at 167 years more and more desperate measures were being called for.

    Elizabeth! Thank God, Where in Flork’s name have you been? he shouted at her. His pudgy, prouty little face was scrunched in peevish vexation. I can’t talk for long, I am on the Island for a month and the connection is flork. Where in the name of Fock is the story you promised me?

    She could not find the words to reply to Bronkel. I wonder if I am mindblown? she mused. She had read of this horrible phenomenon, and seen the sad pictures of those thus afflicted. Poor wandering creatures, strange erratic behaviour, always travelling, always seeking. But for what? Hell on Dearth indeed. She shuddered.

    It is getting urgent you know, spluttered Bronkel. Every day I am reading of new treatment centers opening for those undergoing crisis due to the prolonged absence of the Fickle Four in their lives.

    She sighed, Pull yourself together Elizabeth, her bloodshot and tired eyes were drawn to the planetary horrorscope on the monthly calendar. Todays “Words of Comfort for the Descending” quotation was from the famous philosopher Lemone. She particularly loved Lemone’s ideas. Many considered him a nutter, a few thought he was a genius ahead of his time. For herself, she did not really know, only that his profoundly beautiful words offered a kind of solace or balm to her tortured soul at times such as this :

    Sometimes it takes a single sniggly thorny path to go through to reach Elysian avenues much more efficiently ~ Lemone

    Absolutely fantastic Bronkel, I think this is going to be the best novel yet! My God what an effort it took to say that, but for some reason Bronkel appeared to believe her and began to calm. Thank you Lemone, I could kiss you! she breathed an inward sigh of relief.

    Poke its eyes out! screeched Robert X exuberantly.

    A sniggly thorny path indeed, she thought, hanging up on Bronkel. She had fun using him and his island getaway for inspiration in her last novel. Fun, what happened to the fun? Is this what descended beings do, sit around in a dank, dusty office writing trashy novels?

    She began nervously smoothing out pieces of paper and tried to decipher the scribbled notes; …big soup party …..pointy teeth like cannibals…..tribal wedding ….

    Elizabeth put her head in her hands and groaned in abject despair. Twelve of the twenty mongoats fainted at the fearful sound.

    #622

    Somewhere during the 23 rd century

    “aaa AAAA AAAAA Tcheeeew !”

    “Hiiiiii?! Oh Fracking NOOOoooo!”

    The shriek had been heard in the whole facility.

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

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

    :fleuron:

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

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

    :fleuron2:

    San Demangelo, 1848

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

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

    #617
    Jib
    Participant

      The TV was on and the show was giving Sidonie the impression of a presence in the room with her. She didn’t like to be alone, she didn’t really like the sound of silence. She’d always be alone in her life, not really much friends, not really much colleagues… her parents always abroad, and her with the nanny… always in another room…

      Well she was exagerating a bit her loneliness but she was in a victim mood currently… imagining all her life alone was giving her a sense of tragedy, enhancing some depth in her life she was currently lacking. Tonio was at work today and she was feeling lonely… maybe she would take a pet. She’d heard of a new shop in the city, a shop of pet rental :-?

      Let’s have a look at that shop

      #613

      When Veranassessee entered the secret facility with Gloria and Sharon, her blood congealed in her veins.
      Patient 4 had escaped the safety straitjacket and was holding the doctor at paper-clip point.
      Patient 4, was one of the first six patients they’d treated on the island, an awful miscarriage… Of the six, all had developed strong reactions to the medication especially as they had not yet found the appropriate dosage for the blue spider venom. Some had developed extra appendices, most had been hideously disfigured, and all of them had gone bonkers.
      “Four” was the last alive of them all, by an inexplicable combination of luck and genetics, and by far the most dangerous one. Apparently, apart from madness, the venom had gifted “Four” with supra-human velocity and strength. It was what had kept that mad doctor from “erasing” that mistake, so sure he could find some interesting way of making profit out of that prodigious lucky find.
      But now that was compromising everything…

      V’ass pushed the two chatty old ladies in a broom-closet behind with a wink Be right back ladies!

      Sharon and Gloria giggled in the small room, wondering about the unexpected sense of hospitality of the people of that resort. All was so funny and exciting since they’d decided to come to that place.

      :fleuron:

      — Four! Release the doc’!
      — Don’t move an inch closer or I’ll kill him!
      — You have nowhere to go Four, backups will be here any minute now…
      — One second is all I need to snap his neck!
      — No! Dr. Chris Bronklehampton was moaning
      — You, stay still, the mummified Four snapped to the panting doctor.

      Quicker than light, V’ass shot a powerful sedative into the arm of the mummy. Four winced, drawing the dart out of the arm, crushing the fluffy fletchings between the fingers. Quickly assessing chances to escape, Four sent the doctor flying at the other side of the room, in a powerful swing of the arm, and jumped through the window in a formidable sound of smashed glass, disappearing into the jungle.

      — Chris! Are you alright? Nurse Bellamy was already caring for the fainted doctor.

      #608

      I can feel a human focus on this Island said the aspect of Yuki that was focused near Anita.

      The little girl was sleeping for the moment and her dream focus, though still close to them, was not paying attention to her friends. She was entertaining herself with the dream focuses of her parents, telling them about all that she had been doing with her friends. They themselves were not yet choosing to disengage in this particular probable reality but they were in a kind of transition “place”, removed from their bodies for a lengthy time framework. They had built a similar environment to their home and were acting “as usual”.

      It is a focus of Blöhmul that is not yet aware of our presence here though an aspect of this focus is… I feel it is not a singular focus in a way that is quite original

      Rafaela and Armelle were merged consistently at that time and were creating a strange owly goat or a goaty owl depending on the angle of aspect you were looking at or from.

      Yes it is quite a messy focus, it is generating of new ways of explorations… I’m exploring it from now on said the goaty owl / owly goat.

      The energy was moving and creating new connections. That focus and Anita were already connecting to each other, a strong thread of energy had been attracting them to each other… The four essences began to move in a facilitating of this attraction, merging together in a marmoset, close to the “binary” focus… Surely the dog like aspect of this focus would be intrigued by the marmoset and would want to follow it… to the little Anita.

      #604
      Jib
      Participant

        Yann stroke Arona, lost in his thoughts. He’d spent the last few days with Yurick at Gustav’s place. He’d met Gustav a few days ago, when Yurick came to Paris with him. Gustav was a very sympathetic and fun fellow, his energy felt very soft to Yann and quite sensitive though he could appear a bit rough to others. Gustav was kind enough to let Yann sleep one night at his house when he was still there, before his holidays with his parents before Christmas and friends after Christmas. It was the occasion to eventually be with Yurick.

        The life together was a bit different from what he would have normally expected… before. Now it was just a new experience, the interaction was different, and the configuration of energy could be a bit tricky.

        Yann had noticed that in his perception even if an aspect of his attention was focused on the physical place and that he was physically seeing other individuals and objects in the official room, his main attention was elsewhere… he was beginning to be able to let more of this periphery to bleedthrough in his official reality, and he was well aware that the interactions weren’t always what they appeared to be. He first had the reflex to filter it through his usual associations and what he knew of this reality… but often enough he had that twinge about it like it wasn’t really fitting… it wasn’t fitting at all, he was trying to mold it into another shape, a familiar and distorted shape, so to speak. Ok, that was acceptable, and most of the time his attention and his movement was toward Yurick’s energy.

        Yurick was creating some weird stuffs in with his mouth… some itching and uncomfortable pain… it was a bit weird because of the familiar associations with it… associations with pain, illness, preoccupations, caring, even self worth… but most of all it was showing Yann about the automatic movement “outside” of self, and not being present in what himself was doing.

        Yann had noticed that most of the time when he was in what he was doing there was that warm expansion feeling in his belly… but still there was that location association with it… and the association that Yurick was outside and the room was outside and then at times it was fading and there was not much separation within energy.

        And he just noticed that no separation didn’t necessarily mean continuity :-?

        Ok, again this Owl music of the Harry Potter series… the “scum of the universe” connection was a bit hidden by this music now, but it was still in his periphery. And something he wanted to explore. A feeling of space travel and of mercenaries… that reminded him of the video games he was playing when he was a kid. There was always a time when he was fascinated by the “bad guys”, the pirates. Haha, maybe a pie rat would do as a dessert.

        He would soon come back “home”. He had that DVD of the pilots of a series about space travels that he liked a lot… Yurick had told him about it 2 days ago, he had never seen it.

        #602
        Jib
        Participant

          Albert the mosquito was playing with a gigantic creature to the hide and seek game.
          He was quite a daredevil mosquito and had managed to survive for several days in the same space arrangement.

          He was close to the fulfillment of his intent and ready to move to other areas, but still in this reality… maybe he would choose some other species as he was incorporating some Praying Mantis aspects for a few days now.

          #600

          A feeling of disappointment.
          A feeling of hatred… Sam didn’t really know where it was coming from, but he was feeling it. It was a pooling of energies, not necessarily linked to anyone in particular. Like holding to old habits and old clothes though they needed to be changed.

          Sam decided to create something he hadn’t for quite some time. Some fever and reconfiguration of his digestive process.

          For him, it was a way of expression through his body. It was not a dysfunction as it was expressing freely the energy. Nothing was to be feared or opposed.
          He focused deeply on himself and began to feel this low vibrating sound in his belly. And his body began its shifting.

          :fleuron:

          Lucio was swimming with ease in the marble pool of the villa. His brother was speaking with the trees again and he had no interest in that himself. The water upon his body was offering enough interactions at that moment. In order to swim swiftly this morning he had reshaped his body to a slender and tall body. His short hair was moss green today and quite fitting in the sky blue water. A lemur was swimming alongside with him like it was challenging him in some way.
          He felt his brother’s energy field expand and ripple through the water. A big watery splash was the indication he had joined Lucio in this aquatic amusement.

          Though they were identical twins, they also had the ability to alter their physical shape slightly. Mostly their hair and size, and also their faces. Today they were identical again, except for their size as Lucio had increased it, and their hair. Adrian was bald today, his perfectly round skull was appearing almost shiny in the afternoon sun. He winked at his brother with a big grin and dived under the wavy surface.

          #599

          I wonder how delightful it may feel to become one with that butterfly, mused Franiel, his attention diverted from the job at hand as he followed the dance of a delicate white butterfly. He closed his eyes for a moment and merged with the creature, how free ! He sighed, trying somewhat reluctantly to pull himself back. Franiel had been sat there for quite some time now, supposedly engaged in the task of writing a short poem of 3 stanzas for Hrih, the Old One.

          Of course there was no pressure. Yet in his desire to please, Franiel felt it as such. In his dreams of the previous night Hrih had visited him. He had offered Franiel a golden crown, a silver goblet filled with sweet nectar, and a jewelled sword. Choose! commanded Hrih. Franiel had chosen the goblet and drank thirstily from it, and yet he had felt that Hrih was not pleased with his choice, and upon wakening Franiel had felt a strange uneasiness.

          Franiel had not been trained in the way of the pen, and he knew his words would be clumsy. He had been raised in a poor home, where words were not considered to be of much value other than to instruct him in his tasks, or berate him when those tasks were not completed. Being a dreamy child, this had often been the case.

          He wished he could harness the power of words and use them to soothe and caress, to create beauty even, he thought, gently running his finger over the plain wooden table where he was seated.

          Well for now he would not worry what form his words should take, for it was enough of a task even to know what his highest truth might be!

          My highest truth .. my highest truth, … how many times now had he said these words, hoping perhaps if he repeated them enough the gods might take pity on his for his ignorance and provide an answer. How could he possibly know his highest truth? The very concept of such a thing perplexed him.

          Day was turning into night before Franiel finally laid down his pen. In the end his words were simple. He sighed, saddened by the thought that they would surely be a disappointment. The best I can hope for is that the Old One will see these words as nothing more than a doorway to my soul. Hrih was wise, Franiel knew this, and trusted the decision of the Old One.

          It was in the hands of the gods, for surely if I can’t trust this at least, all my fine talk and learning is for nothing.

          I am the driftwood
          the wave carried me
          I was buried in sand

          I am the flower
          the butterfly touched me
          I fell in love

          I am the raindrop
          the cloud released me
          I became the ocean

          #598
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Linda and Peregrine’s portrait had taken a little longer than expected to realize. Quite abruptly after India’s encounter with the old wrinkled mummy, Bill Jobsworth had fallen ill. An abrupt cold he said he’d caught, that had left him stuck in his bed for a few weeks.
            He’d thought that after the stone heads and the mummy, that was good he didn’t believe in maledictions, because he would have been dead by now. India Louise had been taking care of him, to the surprise of the old Lord who, however, barely expressed more than a raised eyebrow at her incongruous request.

            That little retardation was in fact the perfect pretext for the young couple of globe-trotters to settle down in the castle, and prepare a little photographic exposition on their last trip in Eastern Africa. Though in 2057, photographic cameras were by far outdated, Linda was very fond of these old contraptions that she could use to render some of their trips with a certain kind of focus.
            She’d a custom set of specially adapted cameras that she’d enhanced with devices to free her of the burdens of storage mostly. However, they could function most like the ancient ones. Capturing light through a single lens, in a very focused time and space framework.

            She was very proud of the pictures she had taken of the Dragon’s Blood Trees in Socotra Island and the natural lighting of the scene gave a surreal feeling to it as though an actual iridescent dragon had been hovering on clouds above them.
            When she saw them, India Louise had been gaping, telling they looked exactly like what delirious Bill had depicted of his visions
            Linda was moved beyond words at how amazingly complex and delicately beautiful this reality was…

            #597

            “ As we have stated previously, these terms are quite limiting for explanation purposes. The terminology is not incorrect, by any means. It is only expressing a much, much smaller impression to you than, in actuality, these terms represent. If your interpretation of these terms is too literal, you may find yourself accepting concepts which have only been explained to you partially; for our explanation of concepts is only a minute portion of the entirety of any idea, or concept, or “doctrine.” Only playing, my friend! These concepts must be taken in at this present time, within your present understanding, to the intellect; and the intellect must be allowed to trigger the intuition, allowing a full circle of thought, so to speak; this full circle being a continuous flow of information to assimilation, to actualization, to creation”

            Patel

            Not AGAIN!! shouted Becky. For the past week every time she tried to open her blog page, it always opened on this old post of Patels. Usually, by a circuitous route, she did eventually manage to arrive on her most recent post…..but not today! That monkey Patel wouldn’t let Becky look at any other post but this.

            Funny coincidence really that she’d watched the cartoon last night called Madagascar, starrring Patel himself as King of the Lemurs. Becky had to laugh. A rave party of dancing lemurs on ecstasy!

            #595

            December, 21 st, 2057

            It was almost Christmas, and the Wrick Manor had been buzzing with preparation for the coming of Sean and Becky .

            Manon was diligently busy cooking, having already planned many mouth-watering dishes on her menu, like poêléed (pan-seared) foie gras on roquette fig salad, lobster in ginger and scallion soy sauce, ostrich fillets with dauphine potatoes, and loads of exotic desserts and tarts.

            Lord Wrick had told Manon that Becky was a vegetarian, but even Lord Wrick had trouble telling the cook what she should cook or not. Manon considered it a matter of rude interference upon her artistic culinary tastes, and no one was to tell her how to stir her sheep, so to speak. And secretly, she was sure that Becky would love her delicious Christmas menu.

            In the meantime, Nanny Gibbon was having India Louise and Cuthbert prepare the twinkling Christmas tree. The garlands were a bright electric blue crisscrossing the branches of the huge silver fir, dangling under the weight of shiny red balls. The children were delighted to see Granddad Sean and they could hardly keep in place, and were giggling with joy.

            This past month, with the settling down of winter, the light had been scarce, and even with knowing that all was purposeful, they’d rather create purposeful adventures in the Equatorial part of the world, where days were longer and temperatures balmier. They could almost tell that Manfred the cat was agreeing.

            #592

            Outside the apartment, the sky was a pale grey, with some delicate hues of more silvered clouds of smoke spewed out by the brick and concrete chimneys. Winter time was a few degrees warmer in the big city than in the countryside, on most of the scales he could think of: temperature, decibels at least,… and certainly a few others he didn’t know of.

            Yurick (or Quintin as he was still known) was spending some time at his friend Gustav ’s place, Gustav having moved a while ago from Vienna to Paris, for a new job opportunity in the gaming industry. Gustav was living for a large part in a fantasy world full of trolls, ogres, thieves, demonists and other creatures, which made his conversations always fascinating. It was like he could get his own information about some shifty aspects in consciousness, and they were translated rather undistortedly through these fantasy adventures.

            To Yurick, Paris felt almost less familiar than these other dimensional worlds, and bearably less colourful. But when he’d come back the day before, he had found not much changed, and the ambivalence he felt towards Paris wasn’t a stark dislike, as he could have felt some months before. Furthermore, as he was becoming closer to Yann, colours were coming back into his perception of that odd reality.

            And it seemed that Yurick was developing an uncanny propensity to see 23 or 53 each time he looked up at the clock. Making him wonder if that could have any use at all ;)).

            #590

            The dance was very intense and though he wasn’t exhausted. He could keep on doing that forever it seemed.

            :www:

            Georges-Irtak ware dancing-moving swiftly and with such grace and skill in the manipulation of the body consciousness. Irtak alone wouldn’t have thought some movements he was doing were possible for a human being. His bodies seemed so elastic and so changeable.

            His attention was so entranced by him-Georges that he couldn’t really feel what he was doing. He was open to himself and he was allowing the other part of himself to move his body and he was feeling in the body of him-Georges also. All that could have been so weird and overwhelming… but his previous practice with his dragon twins had been very useful. He was aware of the intense concentration of energy involved in Georges and the connections, deep and loving, with Salome were so bright and colorful.

            He-Georges turned their attention to Salome and send her deep waves of love and fun. She was his lover of many focuses and of many probabilities. Whatever that could mean.

            Heckle and Jeckle were suddenly turning around them and generating a mini-tornado of emerald and pink energy. This was facilitating their movements and their expansion to other dimensions.. he was feeling the veil between them thining so much… a side-step move and he would be…

            Stop!

            The energy feeling made him return in his body all at once. He was still aware of his dragons but his fantastic awareness was like a dim memory. How was he doing that before… This Georges seemed just familiar now, not mingle with him, though…

            You wouldn’t do that now Irtak, it’s too early

            Georges was smiling slyly. His amber eyes were quite hypnotic but Irtak was feeling centered now and focused in this now.

            You’ll learn all that in time… but for now let’s have some cheesy cakes

            #589

            As he layed on the purple sand, she placed one hand on her heart and her other hand on his heart. She closed her eyes and began to sing.
            A golden hue began to emanate, with touches of pale emerald green. With her touch she relayed in energy, that she would assist him to fully awaken.
            She would do this, with the pure love she contained within her heart. For she knew no different.
            She was about to embark upon a journey, that she knew would take her away from her existing family. Momentarily.
            She also knew, that all was well, as she would bridge the two worlds together.
            Her father would be furious, but her heart would win him over. She knew this :)

            As he slept, she went for a much required swim.
            She had to find a way, to stay on the surface longer, without such discomfort.
            Not being in the water, had her feeling so dry, all over, including her throat.
            She swam and swam, swirled around, and then, she heard her father calling her name………………

            #587
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Georges and Salome’s journal

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

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

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

              #576

              He’d been considering disengagement today… not sure if it was what he really wanted. But the thought was coming at times. He wasn’t sure that it wasn’t triggered by some kind of desperation or sadness, an automatic response of protection or to stop the suffering.

              Well he was just considering. He hadn’t made his choice yet.

              #575
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Georges and Salome’s journal

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

                The Jorid has spotted what will be the destination for our first joined adventure.
                It’s a dimension which seems unexplored yet, and rather fascinating. Georges, as he is, would already have jumped right in, but I preferred to get a little more background information before moving into it. It’s still a little awkward to move into these realms where the laws of physics as we’ve known them are different, sometimes dramatically so. These would not be too much of a difficulty as the adaptation of the physical body usually goes quite fast, as Georges has shown me when we trained in more familiar dimensions, but the most delicate part is when we barely know the relationships at play.
                Georges will laugh because he’s more confident that everything is perfect, but somehow, I tend to believe that things can be a little more perfect when we know how to avoid making faux-pas.
                So we’ve spent a few days gathering some basic informations on this dimension we call Alienor. The most part of the activity seems to revolve around a cluster of planetoids. At this moment, it’s forming a system of three planets revolving on the same orbit around their sun. We call them Duane, Murtuane, and Phrëal.
                They seem to form a complex web of relationships, and cover such a wide range of aspects that we have decided on a mutual agreement to split our exploration to cover more ground for a beginning.
                Georges is exploring the Duane, and I took the Murtuane, both planetoids seeming to come from the same core of matter, in a manner of speaking. The feeling around the Phrëal is more ambivalent, as though it is undergoing some deep change, not unlike to the Shift that will be (or has been) occurring on our Earth. So, we’ve decided not to interfere with it right now. It may take a dozen of years (as we understand them) for them to undergo that process, but it’s not like we care of time issues in any case.

                Here are my first observations concerning the Murtuane. Obviously, it ties into the Duane, but I am not completely aware of all of these ties yet.
                The first connection I had to the Murtuane was with some ancient beings living here. I saw myself riding one of these sentient beings, gliding through the sky in a mountainous land. The colours are vivid, even if the atmosphere seems very light, and filtering the sun’s ray in a spectrum slightly more indigo than our sky on Earth. These beings, whose name I can’t yet translate accurately (it’s something close to Nirgual) are powerful winged focuses of essence, though I suspect this to be a mere convenient form that they use. They somewhat remind me of the Rokhs (or Rocs) that the sultan’s wifes were telling us about in their legends. Apparently, they are respected, perhaps feared by the people inhabiting the lands, though I can feel they are for the most part benevolent.
                These people, those that I could spot, seem to have a slightly green skin, but overall humanoid form (within my translation of them).

                I will probably have more to connections once we gather our impressions with Georges.

                #574
                Jib
                Participant

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

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

                  Yann sighed.

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

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

                  Well he had some dreams to note down.

                  #569

                  It had not been easy to convince his parents. His mother especially…
                  As a matter of fact, he had failed to convince them at all, and Tomkin had to decide by himself whether he wanted to follow Badul and his crew in his quest for unknown mysteries.

                  Tomkin had left a short written message for the Sharples, to tell them that they needn’t worry, and all would be fine.

                  Badul had decided to split his crew in two, having Austor in charge of the boats while he would go with a handful of trusted men by land.
                  Apparently, the young boy was aware of one portal which was close to their current location. This one was not part of the main network and was operating unknowingly to the officials. Its size was small, and travels were regulated by a local governor who used it for his clandestine business.
                  It was located deeper inside the lands of Golfindely, and the mountainous area of highlands planted with luxuriant trees made its access difficult.

                  Despite the boy’s initial reluctance at leading them to this place, Badul was determined to go, and very quickly Tomkin was excited at the opportunity to finally travel as he always had wanted to. It wouldn’t be by sea for now, but as Captain Bone said, every journey starts with one step.

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