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  • #2028

    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Indeed Jib, as usual, as usual:

      Follow THE call OF THE WILDE,
      THAT WHICH especially ASK YOU TO hold STILL AT home.
      YOU KNOW, IT DOESN’T TAKE lots OF walking
      TO let YOUR arms HAVE SOME EXERCISING:
      SOME WOULD SAYperhaps”;
      BUT NO NEED TO SAY “I knew THAT!”

      LET’S EXPLORE A stone idea:
      OF dragons starting watermelons story, flying AROUND
      AND smiling, DIVING IN THE flove

      #1134

      Georges and Salome’s journal

      From Salome’s account of her introduction to the Turmak People (Part 1)

      Georges being involved more and more within the Quorum of Jokans, it has enabled me, if only by proxy, to get more acquainted with the personality of each of them.
      The Guardians are an ancient and very distinctive race which is, in many aspects, surprisingly similar to our Dream Walkers. One of these points of similarity is their aptitude at morphing their environment, and altering much of the physical properties of it within their dimension of operation.
      I suspect that, similarly to our Dream Walkers being responsible for the creation of physical focus as we currently experiment it in our Earth dimension, they are also for a great part responsible for the creation of many a species in the neighbouring noospheres —note that I shall occasionally use “Noosphere” as a word more apt to convey certain notions rather than the word “planet” which is loaded with certain beliefs.

      I will not enter into the social details of the race of the Guardians in this note, as it would be too long for this place, and Georges will probably explain it in more details later.
      However, I shall use this as an opportunity to introduce a character who soon became a close ally in our explorations of this universe.
      As a matter of fact, I came as a surprise to both of us when she started to pierce through Georges disguise, flawless as it may have been. We found out that they shared a connection which probably was the cause for their allowance of connection through the veils of their disguises in time and space.
      A rather elegant member of the Quorum of Twelve, Cil —as she is named, pronounced See’l — intuitively found out that we were not really who we claimed to be, especially that we were not from her known universe at all. But what could have been a difficult situation turned out for the best, as she was equally eager to discover about us, as we were about her people and universe.

      The recent reports of uprisings of the Zentauras was the matter which was seriously discussed, and it was decided as a favour from Noraam to Cil to allow her to go for an investigation on the Murtuane, to find out the reasons for this matter, if not the culprits among their kin.
      Needless to say that I was very much enthusiastic at the idea of having a guide to explain me more on the relationships at play…

      (Part 2)

      #1063
      AvatarJib
      Participant

        The creaking sound of the door reminded her of a young lampürnok during the mating season on the Duane. Loads of lamprunki (plural for lampürnok) near Mount Elok’ram in her little village.

        The pock-marked face of Pavel appeared at the door.

        — Pheeeebe! I am sooo glaad we meet again.

        He entered and sat on what was supposed to be a bed.

        — I can’t say I’m glad, Pavel.

        She snorted.

        — Last time I saw you, you were running away with one of my possessions. And by the Elder gods! Couldn’t you do something about your monstrous face with all that I taught you? Well, Georges was always better than you could be… I wonder where he is currently…

        She had said that more to herself than to get any answer from him. He didn’t depart from his smile and his apparently joyous mood.

        — Well, at least I saved you from a cerrrrtain death. And I know how grateful you arrre inside yourrrrself.

        That horrid accent of his. It had always made her shudder. But she had to cope with it… for now. She needed to know where she was and why he seemed so sure he would find her there at that very moment. What was he looking for, and how was the Baron involved in all this.

        — You know that I never liked small-talk. Why don’t you tell me what you want and stop pretending to be what you can’t be? All you can do is work for someone else. You’re too stupid and too coward to take any initiative. You’re too numb to use your imagination…

        She didn’t like the quavering quality of her voice. She had to be dead tired that she was loosing her temper like that.
        She cowered back in her chair as he started to move closer, his face suddenly twisted in anger. It was obvious he wouldn’t touch her, he still feared her, she could see it in his eyes… but he also knew that she was quite powerless at the moment. She’d almost drowned in that mass of water, it had changed her in a way she couldn’t fathom yet, and she could feel a small ball of anguish deep inside. She thought for a moment he would beat her. Though he managed to compose his fake joyful expression again.

        — Listen Pheeeebee, I’m not the impulsive lad you knew. And though I’m not as good as the Dandy I can still impress you, I’m sure of it. But we’re not here to speak about parlor tricks or measure our prowess.

        She couldn’t help but notice that he had lost his accent.

        — The Baron… yes I work for him now… another old friend of yours… I wonder how old you are

        As she was frowning he continued.

        — Nonetheless, he needs your help in Hawaii.

        A dim light in her mind. So he was after the skulls too. She had to be more cautious about what she could blurt out, especially in her condition.

        #1056
        AvatarJib
        Participant

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

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

          :fleuron:

          No particular feeling at first.

          :fleuron:

          One of the little ones, maybe…

          :fleuron:

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

          :fleuron:

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

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

          #1048
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            When a distraught Becky had finished outpouring her verbose account, Tina drew a long much needed breathe —two in fact: one for herself, and another for Becky Pooh.

            “You see Becky dear,” Tina raising softly her voice, with her usual sweetness and poise, “Your dear Dr Gayesh should definitely read the Cosemotology Monthly Report …”
            “What are you talking about?” Becky couldn’t help but butt in.
            “Well, no sooner than yesterday they had this in-depth article on the curative properties of nettles, especially on the effects of silicate which can help rejuvenate cells… This apparently has been used to improve some cloning processes on animals. I would expect someone with advanced talents like your Dr to know that, don’t you think?”
            “Nettles? Are you sure you’re not on some better herbs than I would ever dream of tasting? This sounds like a lot of rubbish to me… And no need to roll your eyes, I can remote view you” Becky was infuriated. How could something so simple have escaped Gayesh?

            “Unless of course he doesn’t want you to leave…” Tina said again so very softly it was almost inaudible.
            “Oh, bugger with telepathy” Becky said, closing the connection to sink deeper into the ostrich feathers stuffed cushions.

            #989
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Oh, he thought, at least Tina’s coming another 8 closer (then immediately thinking he was now changing it to another start of a cycle — another convenient way of saying he’d just blown this new magic occurrence of “858”, but wasn’t it how changes were supposed to be made?).

              Now, what the cloud had in store for him, he wondered…

              elikozoe sync closer especially dear ask soon suddenly began known difficult step”

              OK, Al thought, now that’s interesting… this was no coincidence that “Elikozoe”, his nom de plume (he was born Albert (Al) Yokoso, from a father of Japanese descent and a mother of Cajun descent) would appear like that out of the blue…
              As for “dear”, who else than “Dear” Tina :agreed:

              #960

              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…

              :fleuron:

              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!

              #932

              Madame Chesterhope couldn’t believe her ears.

              WHAT?! YOU LOST IT?!
              — Yes Madam, we lost contact, and we have reasons to believe that an unexpected well-planned counter attack on our team of magpies is to be blamed for…
              — For that fiasco, Tfark! And where is the damn skull?! Will I have to go fetch it myself?
              — There was report of a spy mottherfly that managed to escape by the wortex before it was closed. Nothing definite but we have reason to believe that the skull is still on the island. An agent of your old friend the Baron has been spotted heading back there.
              — I will deal with it myself then.

              The glow of the transmission ball went out in a whiff.

              Ah, she hated to have to come back to that dimension, especially in this time framework where everything was so clouded in terms of potentials. But she couldn’t really trust anyone on that.

              #923

              Mr Arak had just got another complaint.
              Someone was again stealing people’s soondwiches during the morning break. Except that this time, the perpetratoor had placed some poost-it saying “Thanks for the snoock! Floove, Finnley
              How cheeky! he thought, smiling to himself… As funny as he thought it was, especially when the teafed one was that annoying woonabe-star of Elizabeth, he might have to take appropriate measures. Especially when the teafed one was that Elizabeth T.

              Now, tell me, Yurick asked Finn anxiously (while she apparently only got the breathing icons :yahoo_sigh: and no longer the messages accompanying it), “any idea what’s the message in that bizarre dream?”

              #921

              It had been a week now. Georges had fully taken his role as Shu-Lom, the eleventh Gate in the Council of the Guardians. His mergence with the actual focus of Blöhmul was fading out ; the transition had been smooth, unnoticed by most of the Guardians, even his closest friends. Georges was careful not to display any unusual change in Shu-Lom’s attitude, though some of them were showing signs of suspicion, especially… his own focus, Sinadron who was the most susceptible to be aware of the difference. Georges had been avoiding him since his arrival, but he would eventually have to face him for one of the rituals soon to begin.
              Of the eleventh other Guardians, only 2 were considering him as a friend, Doh’Maar and Vogel. Most of the others were ignoring him during the sessions and Sinadron were despising him. Well, technically he was despising Shu-Lom and the change would not make things go easier between the 2 of them as the energy of their 2 focuses were sort of repulsing each other.
              Following Shu-Lom’s habits, he was heading to the public baths, but contrary to him, he was going during daylight. He needed some answers. He had been feeling strong tensions between the Gates, and there were also underlying feeling of discontentment and anger among the other Guardians. For the first time in their history, unknown groups of their kind were attacking the other races and provoking them and generating feelings of fear, even amongst the Guardians.
              The man he was following would give him some of the answers. He would have to befriend him first though. Noraam had a smooth energy, and he would be easy to approach, especially in the dampness of the baths.

              Noraam was wearing an grey cape, attached on his shoulders with carved fibulae. His robe was short, above his knees, and rather dark. He was quite young by the standards of the Guardians and still fiery. Shu-Lom was young too, about the same age as Noraam, but he was quite pessimistic and self-effacing, and especially he wanted to leave, that he did, and Georges took his place.
              Georges suddenly felt a familiar energy, one that he would recognize anywhere, anytime. Salome… rather another focus of her essence. Hahaha, that was a surprise, and he almost lost track of what he was doing. Noraam was already taking the stairs up to the baths. Something about the energy of that focus was attractive, he still didn’t know who it was or what he/she(?) was doing here. Maybe just a projection. He didn’t have time to investigate. Heading to the stairs where Noraam was already being dematerialized and rematerialized to the first level, he heard a child’s voice.

              Can you help me?.. I know you can.

              What again, another distraction… he would be late to the baths and maybe loose the occasion to speak with the other Gate.

              Looking down at the origin of the voice, he was surprised to see a little girl, red hair and amber eyes. As he could see, she was blind, but as he could feel, she was quite capable of seeing things.

              Do I know you, little one? He had not been aware of this child in Shu-Lom’s memories, and he was wondering if he had missed something during his encounters with the original.

              You dreamt of me the other night, but you weren’t here yet.

              Her last words triggered a memory, of him carrying a naked little girl in his arms, protecting her in a way, and he was following a man in his dream, trying to keep track… in his dream, he was rushing and almost lost the child, following also Salome who had already taken the stairs… yes he was here in his dreams, the place and the stairs were the same… as was the child.

              What is your name little one? In my dream you were followed by an owl
              You can call me Ar’Meel.

              :fleuron:

              Sam thought he could write it somewhat differently. With his understanding of Georges’ abilities, he could well have split in two and followed Salome and stayed with the girl simultaneously and maybe even Noraam.
              A smile.
              He was feeling wobbly and wavy. A ripple effect?
              It seemed that there had been a strange recognition between his character and himself. It was like Georges was aware of Sam wanting to change what had happened… or was it a suggestion of Georges?

              #890

              The Council room was silent but the energy was tense and electric.
              Nareena and Noraam were reading an energy ball from their peers on the Murtuane’s Kandulim shore. There had been an uprising of the Zentauras concerning exactions committed by what could be called a rebel faction of the Guardians. They had no name to call them, and they were invisible to their search, through their inner vision or other devices.
              The Gates were concerned by this behavior amongst their kin, especially since they would soon face a difficult choice in their evolution and society. Keliom had warned them since the beginning many years ago when it was just speculations, when they were needing a source of power so intense that it was against their knowledge to even believe in it.
              But the source had been found. It was through an unexpected mean. And now…

              This is unacceptable from our kind Noraam. The Council should decide something to get rid of these culprits.

              You know that it is against our customs. And especially, Sinadron and Keliom wouldn’t allow it and you know their influence over the others.

              I also sense that you are not comfortable with the idea either…

              Nareena sighed with resignation.

              I wonder how far would they have to go before we decide to do something. It is something to disregard the other races, but it is another to tease them and attack them. It is not even a matter of really wanting to hurt them, I feel a deliberate desire to make them angry against us, and I wonder who among us would want that.

              Noraam looked at her, intrigued. He saw the face of a man, a vautruche on his left shoulder. The only one of them who would want a vautruche as a pet. These animals were so unpredictable that one could think they were a vicious species, but they were expressing qualities such as determination and swiftness that were also somewhat desirable, and he could understand that. They were really fascinating with their moving colors. Depending on their mood, their skin was quickly changing, pulsing, irradiating, glazing, hypnotic, or just dark and unnoticeable.

              Do you really mean what I briefly saw, Nareena?

              She blushed before his twinge. I don’t trust him, and he makes me feel very uncomfortable. She wouldn’t admit to him that she was sensing some sexual attraction from him, and to him, but she couldn’t accept it as his energy was mostly repulsing and the thirst of power she could glimpse in his eyes was simply frightening.

              No, I don’t like Sinadron .

              #847

              Becky’s heart was racing and her breath was coming in short rasping breaths. I need to change probabilities, and I need to do it fast! There’s not a moment to lose.

              Maybe I can change the past, she thought, change it to a probability in which I didn’t marry Sean in the first place. Oh Lordy, but how do I do that exactly? Her head was spinning.

              Maybe I should just run away, now, pack my bags and disappear before Sean gets back from the bar.

              No, that won’t do, she said, biting her lip in consternation. I want to keep the wedding presents, especially that YouDo doll.

              Becky rummaged through the pile of magazines, looking for the script of the Reality Play. Oh dear god, if I change probabilities Al and the others will kill me, it will make such a mess of the threads.

              Becky was distraught. What shall I do! she exclaimed, wringing her hands.

              BREATHE, a deeply resonant female voice said. BREATHE into YOU, that’s right, BREATHE…..

              Becky stopped wringing her hands and drew a shaky breath.

              That’s right, the voice continued, BREATHE into YOU…..

              Becky took another deep breath.

              BREATHE…..

              Oh for heavens sake, Becky interrupted rather rudely, That’s enough of that blimmen breathing for now, thank you very much, now bugger off, I need to think.

              The voice in her head changed to a masculine one, that said with a chuckle, “THINKING” is absolutely FATAL, my dear, just DO what ever is easiest for YOU.

              You mean, do whatever I want, and bugger everyone else? asked Becky. Wouldn’t that be a bit inconsiderate? I mean, don’t I have a responsibility to the others?

              HAHAHAH, you are funny, said the voice. Did all that Seth and Elias stuff go in one ear and out the other?

              What Seth and Elias stuff? Haha, just kidding, of course I remember it all. Reading about it and actually DOING it, well, they are two different things……her voice trailed off, and she frowned, deep in thought.

              Thinkin’ aint doing, said the voice.

              #828

              What really was Salitre’s mound? For most people around this valley, who had forgotten about the old times, it was nothing more than a rocky and steep piece of earth, barely good enough for Barbary sheep and piglets.
              In fact, when you were coming from the new macadamized roads encircling the mountains, it could almost slip unnoticed. But when, like Granny Mosca, you knew the paths for having worn countless shoes walking on them, you could no longer ignore the towering presence of this place.
              For her, it was a magical realm, a doorstep truly.

              Granny Mosca was the official owner of this place, though she preferred to think of it as being the gatekeeper.
              She kept a few animals up there, and went everyday here to feed them, pacing up and down the treacherous paths despite her old age.

              Something you couldn’t really realize until you first reached the top of the mound was that the mound was at the center of the valley, giving an impressive view miles and miles around. In that land of mountains, it could be just another peak among others, but when you were here, you knew it wasn’t.
              Granny Mosca had felt it many times, this surge of energy, almost as if there were streams flowing down the surrounding slopes, up to the top of Salitre’s mound. At special times of the year, it was like you could feel the dwellers of the past moving around… At this very spot were almond trees were now growing.

              Those tourists who came a few days ago where funny. Especially the blond woman, with the high-pitched laugh who had come a few times here already.
              For sure Granny Mosca didn’t fear that they discover anything, as the place had knew how to shroud itself without her for ages, even before she was born. In fact, it was the contrary. She was willing to share some of the secrets to people daring enough and open-minded enough to crack some of these nuts of wisdom.
              The land would tell them…

              That is… unless they left the bag of almonds to the dogs…

              #827

              The sun had just come back on the Andalusian mountains. After a day of frying sun on the beach, and showers of cats and dogs (especially dogs), everything was still for a moment.

              It’s been a few days that Yurick and Yann had arrived at Dory and Dan’s house near Gibraltar, and they were beginning to feel like fishes in water —a little bit like smoked hot pink salmons somewhat.

              Last night was full moon, and among the howling of dogs around the room, they could at times feel the presence of their friend Finn who had promised to appear as a fishnet stockings sun-glassed trenchcoated sexy spy pop-in. So far, they only had got clues as to her presence, though they got the distinct feeling she was drawing closer each passing hour.

              In any case, life was different here, slower, and peaceful. The endless trail of pyramid shaped green mountains and rocky serpentine paths seemed to be each leading to a hidden network of long-lost treasures.
              Only Flove knew what they would discover on their way to Salitre…

              #801

              The cold wind was blowing upon the marshes. The atmosphere was damp and dark with threatening gray clouds. A storm was approaching and Asiir was dreaming.

              Her dreams were so strong that they were triggering many emotions in her rider. Since their bonding seven years ago, their link had grown stronger and Lola wouldn’t think of shutting it down even in those uncomfortable moments. They were one.

              Lola was feeling a menace, some undefined threat coming with the storm, as if the storm was just the visible counterpart of what was preparing. In those moments, Lola couldn’t help but think of her family and her village… Her fist grasped tightly the grip of the sword she was holding.

              Everyone was killed when she was nine. Her dragon wasn’t fully developed at that time and couldn’t help her save her people. All Asiir could do was shield her from them as she was shielding herself, not even thinking of it.

              She sighed deeply, releasing the pressure of the storm and of the dreams. She’d learnt not to hold on the powerful emotional responses but to open herself as a channel of her dragon’s dreams. All she could do was let the energy flow through her. Was it Asiir creating the storm or the storm disturbing Asiir’s dreams? She wasn’t aware of the answer yet, but at times it had bothered her to think that her dragon could cause “bad things” to happen.

              A chilly breeze and a surge of electricity. She grinned impishly.
              It was the time of her lesson.

              You’re late master. she thought to the shadowy figure behind her. She was feeling something different that day in the presence. You’re not alone. I can feel a different energy with you today…

              The dragon growled in her agitated sleep.

              Your emotions are dragon drenched again, Lola. I know you consider it a proof of your connection with your beast, but it may be far more damaging than you think.

              Lola had felt a twinge at how Samira had called her friend, she was feeling her emotions rise dangerously to the point which she had learned she could not control herself. She had always wondered if Samira was seriously considering dragons as beasts or if she was teasing her, especially since she had let the connection develop in such a way.

              You’re going to have a new teacher…

              Lola’s heartbeat accelerated slightly, so slightly, but she could feel her mentor’s smile upon her interrogations. Was she leaving? She’d always dreaded such a moment. She felt the wry expression of Samira.

              I’m not going away… you need a training that I can’t give you. You need to learn how to ride properly over your bond and not get consumed by it, and Noraam can teach you that.

              A strange impression of connection with the new energy flew in her, making her feel quite uneasy. Such an intimacy was unusual with another human energy. Or was he human?

              A sudden surge of energy made her wince. She turned to her mentor and was surprised to only see Samira in her stout armor. She could feel the strength of the other energy but she couldn’t give him a form. She was feeling nudged gently from many directions at the same time and realized that she was afraid of loosing her bond with her friend. Wasn’t she trusting her bond? Another chill, and the rain started falling.

              You won’t really need all that Samira taught you during these last 4 years

              The inner voice was almost inaudible, but still she could feel it was not a voice and that the communication was going through another pathway. The vegetation of the marshes and few rocks were shifting to an unnatural yellow tint, and the faint glow around her teacher was growing in intensity. Actually, all the objects around her was beginning to glow, the limits of their shapes were collapsing.

              Lola was sill feeling the link with Asiir but it was thinning down in such an unfamiliar way.

              I’m going to help you remove the veils that Samira helped you put on your consciousness when you first met. But first you need to renew the link with yourself.

              She heard a vague sound of steel on the ground… had she lost her sword? She couldn’t feel her body. She couldn’t move as she was used to… but was it still something to move? The face of a man was forming in the energy patterns of the glowing clouds. Was he close or far away? Was he huge or of human size? Was she massive?

              A pounding sound in the distance of her inner ear… a familiar call but she was still so far.

              #795

              — Sorry for the confusion, the voice of Leörmn said, there may have been some traffic jam along the portal’s tunnel… I think we lost track of time somewhat.
              — But we’re arrived, aren’t we? asked Arona, still a bit grumpy about the cave moving.
              — Mmm, I suppose so. If my calculations are correct, we are. Although…
              — What?!
              Arona was starting to wonder what could possibly go more mind-boggling than it already was…
              Leormn puffed into a small-sized teal-bellied gyucko (a sort a cutie reptipooh) and started to wiggle away…
              — Have honey do’s, see you in a while!

              — Grumpf, always wiggling out this one… grumbled Arona.
              And where did they all go now? It seemed like once again, she had been left alone. Good riddance, better enjoy the calm before they come back.

              :fleuron:

              Malvina was enjoying this new place where she was in. She had felt that, in other Worlds, some of her other attentions had been moving too. Especially one who was having great funnie in her new housie which was harbouring a portal in a very ancient tree. And for most of these attentions, it was also a time of reunion with dear ones, and reactivation of a new kind of power.
              Perhaps the time was now for her too arrived, to reunite with her Sisters.

              Only thing was that, where she was now at this precise moment, her Sisters were not yet born…
              Interestingly, for a reason that only the mind of a century old wise dragon like Leormn knew —if she would trust it not to be a simple stroke of inattention and bad luck as he would try to make it appear— she was undoubtedly right where she had thought to be, a small island in the Eastern coastal area of Lan’Ork in the vicinity of the Marshes of Doom.
              Except that it was the Legendary Past…

              #1724

              In reply to: Synchronicity

              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                These are quite interesting… The retelling story feels particularly fit, especially considering The Story so Far threads :face-grin:
                I also wasn’t aware of the CK(Conductive Keratoplasty) corrective eye surgery with sounds rather than laser methods… :-?

                But I didn’t come for that, actually. ;))
                I was browsing something totally unrelated, and found a news about the plot of Toy Story 3 revealed by the Wall Street Journal (ref). Something got my attention obviously, when I saw Circle 7 a division of Disney who worked on the previous Toy Story movies before acquisition of Pixar…

                #1722

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  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.

                  #1719

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    I have just said goodbye to my italian guests and there was another funny synch I kept meaning to tell you, Gaby’s husbands name is Georges. oh it is 8:53

                    Yesterday in the newspaper was a section on crime writers. There was a very funny synch regarding Quentin, agents, italians and angels. If I can find the newspaper I especially purchased, I will post it later.

                    #756

                    Franiel awoke, it took him a few moments to get his bearings. He stretched, and slowly adjusted to his waking state. He wondered how long he had slept, it was quiet and dark. Although he couldn’t see much, he could feel that dawn was not far away. The ghost hour.

                    He must have slept for hours.

                    Remembering Leonard he looked around and softly called out. There was no reply, and unless Leonard was sleeping, Franiel was alone. “Aye” he sighed, and finding the blanket from his pack, fashioned it into a tent over his head and took shelter in it. It was nearly day, another day.

                    Thinking of his encounter with Leonard, the strange dancing and especially the sweet taste of the nectar, Franiel reached into his pack again to retrieve the chalice.

                    It is no longer there

                    Franiel was not quite sure if he heard a voice utter these words, or if it was just a strange sense of knowing. He still felt around, taking out each item carefully and methodically, emptying the pack, not really wanting to believe the chalice has gone, nor to consider what the implications of this loss might be.

                    Perhaps he did not put the chalice back in the pack after all? He crawled around his surrounds, squinting into the half light of the morning, feeling the dew damp ground. Deciding to trust what he knew in his heart already he sat back and quietly watched as the sky eventually flushed brilliant crimson.

                    Red sky in the morning. A warning ….it is only weather words but ….

                    Reluctant to consider his options, he instead considered some dandelions, how luminous they looked in the morning light.

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