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  • #888

    Franiel lifted the metal latch and pushed open the creaking door of the old shed. In the darkness he could make out of the shape of boxes and other various objects, then, as his eyes became more accustomed to the darkness, he saw the motorbike propped up against the far wall.

    What are you up to young man?

    Franiel jumped and spun around. It was Lydia, just returned from her journey to the market.

    Oh hello again! You startled me … Phoebe suggested I check out the motorbike, see if I can get it going.

    Lydia looked grave. Did she now? Well it’s been many a long year since that piece of junk worked. Anyway so you’ve met Madame Chesterhope then, and what did you make of her? She was giving Franiel that deeply penetrating stare again. Franiel wondered kindly if perhaps she was shortsighted.

    Oh very nice … and I met Vincentius the parrot too.

    Lydia chuckled. Did you now?

    Yes, actually Phoebe told me a rather unusual story.

    At that Lydia broke into gales of laughter. Let me guess, about mixing the aura and the egg?

    Yes, that’s right, replied Franiel, his face breaking into a smile too as he realised the absurdity of it.

    Lydia wiped the tears of laughter from her face. ’Ere Lad, I told you things are not what they always seem. She thought for a moment. I’m parched from my long walk, I am going inside to make a brew. Why don’t you join me? If you are going to be stopping then there are a few things you need to know.

    #883
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Becky arrived at the cafe twenty minutes late, looking breathless and disheveled. Scanning the room with a wild eye, she spotted Tina engrossed in a magazine in a booth in the far corner. Flopping down on the leatherette seat, Becky ran her hands through her hair and said Holy Moly, Tina, I don’t know whether I’m coming or going.

      BREATHE, replied Tina, in a deeply resonant voice, a trifly mischeivously, Becky thought. Breathe into YOU…..

      Oh bugger off Tina, Becky said affectionately. Thanks for coming at such short notice.

      Well, out with it then, Becks, what’s the panic this time? What fine pickle have you got yourself into now?

      Becky glanced surreptiously over her shoulder, and then leaning over the table whispered to Tina, Promise you won’t tell anyone? Not even Sam and Al?

      Tina frowned. Not even Sam and Al?

      Seeing Becky’s crumpled face, Tina quickly agreed, saying, Oh alright then, but what’s the big secret? Not that there ARE any secrets….

      Yes there bloody well ARE secrets Tina, and this is one of them! Promise not to tell ANYONE!

      Alright, alright! Calm down and spit it out, for Gawds sake! Tina said.

      Remember when I was in the park? In that tarty nun outfit? Becky continued, in a loud whisper.

      How could I forget?

      Well, something happened! In the bushes, with this guy, a guy from the future, a time traveller.

      Tina raised one eyebrow in disbelief.

      It’s no good looking at me like that Tina, I’m telling you it happened. And what’s more, I’m pregnant, and he’s the father.

      Tina’s mouth fell open in surprise, and then she said, You TART! You haven’t been married a week! You haven’t even been on your blimmen honeymoon yet!

      Well, actually, replied Becky huffily, Don’t you think it’s kind of cool?

      What happened then, Becky, do tell! Tina was intrigued.

      And Becky proceeded to tell Tina all about it, first entreating her again not to tell anyone.

      #878

      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.

      :fleuron:

      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.

      :fleuron:

      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…

      :fleuron:

      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.

      :fleuron:

      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.

      #876

      Oh what absoloote rubbish, giggled Elizabeth Tattler, taking another large sloorp from her 4th glass of red wine and putting large determined scribbles through the last chapter of the latest Noovel. It was the continuing saga of the Tifijikoo Island story. She really had to finish it, old whats-his-face was on the telepooh to her daily now, demanding to know when it was to be finished.

      More Sex! he had shouted at her last time. More sex, we want the bloody thing to sell don’t we!

      Well I have shut you up haven’t I, she snorted to herself, thinking happily of Dr Bronkelhampton passed out on the couch wearing a pink dress and mascara running down his face.

      More sex eh? Hooommmm, Elizabeth did not particularly believe in putting extraneous sex in her noovels. At the same time that character Veranassessee was annoying her a bit with all her indecisiveness. And what a bloody mouthful that name was. Was it too late to change it? hooommm probably. She had modelled her roughly on the cleaner, Finnley, quite an attractive girl despite her pooty face and superior, bossy ways.

      She vaguely remembered something a tutor at writing school had said to her once about writing sex scenes … what was his name? Emonel … no that was not quite right … Meenol! That was it!

      Make your writing detailed, with accurate depiction of suction noises

      Elizabeth broke into fits of laughter, slamming her fist on the desk gleefully and startling Robert X. (Unfortunately the fainting Mongoats had been banned from the building by that nasty Mr Arak)

      You know Robbie-pooh what is wrong with this?

      Robbie-Pooh, Robbie-Pooh, cackled Robert X.

      IT’S BOORING, The damn characters never do anything. Right well, time to fix that. She took another few slugs of her wine.

      :fleuron:

      Oh God, said Agent Gabriele. Who gives a shit about the Doctor or bloody magpies. I can’t stand this any longer. I must have you Agent V. He lunged towards her, ripping open her robe and exposing her naked body.

      You are so beautiful. All I ever wanted is you. That’s why I demanded this assignment on the Island … to see you again. I have not been able to get you out of my head. You’ve been driving me crazy

      NO NO, cried Veranassessee weakly, but her body said YES YES

      YES!

      Agent Gabriele kissed her on the mouth, making strange and passionate slurping noises, and, unable to resist any longer, she gave in to his need for her.

      ( Yes, Yes, YES! snorted Elizabeth, momentarily unable to write for laughing. Hooommm what about that Mahiliki? He was pathootic. Did he want the girl or not for God’s sake? )

      :fleuron:

      Mahiliki stared anxiously out at the storm. He could think of nothing but his darling Veranassessee. He must know if she was alright. He must go to her. He grabbed his car keys and drove like a madman to the airport.

      ( Hoommm, thought Elizabeth, I really don’t know anything about small island airports and planes. Well booger that, I will research them later on the internoot )

      You must fly me to Tifijikoo Island! demanded Mahiliki, holding the pilot (who had been sitting out the storm in a little airport building thingy ) at knifepoint.

      Are you mad? said the pilot. There’s a freakin cyclone, or hadn’t you noticed?

      Yes, I am mad, I am mad with love. Fly me there or you are a dead man.

      :fleuron:

      ahahahaahah, laughed Elizabeth happily.

      #873

      A few moments later she was not so sure.

      What’s the matter?

      Oh you know … I am a bit distracted …too much going on I guess. She did not want to tell him that she could feel the presence of Mahiliki strongly in the room, his sweet trusting face gazing reproachfully at her. He would be worried about her, worried about the storm. She wondered how he was getting on.

      I understand, he smiled ruefully, it’s hardly perfect timing is it? Anyway that wasn’t the reason I asked you to meet me here, but I guess it just seemed like too good an opportunity to miss.

      I am sorry, she said, rolling her eyes.

      Maybe some other time. He handed her a robe.

      Sure. She wrapped it tightly around her. Anyway, the Doctor?

      All taken care of. I left Nurse Bellamy administering warm coconut milk, unbeknowst to her laced with a sedative. The Doctor will be peacefully sleeping for at least 24 hours.

      And Jarvis?

      Jarvis is an opportunist, but not dangerous. He was employed by the Doctor as a bodyguard, but has since changed sides. He is now working as a spy for the Magpies.

      The Magpies?

      Your hunch was right. The Magpies are operating on the Island, and they plan to strike soon.

      :fleuron:

      Sha was gazing dejectedly at herself in the mirror. Glor what d’ya reckon. Are all these bloody beauty treatments working or wot?

      Course they are!

      They looked at each other. Well, maybe it’s a bit soon to tell eh? she said doubtfully.

      Mavis! Sha shook the lump covered completely by blankets huddled on the bed. Come on Lovey, the storm won’t urt you. What d’ya reckon Mavis, ‘ow do we look?

      A dishevelled head popped out. You both don’t look no bloody different to me, ‘cept you’ve put weight on, she said honestly.

      Well that bloody does it, said Glor, We’d better find that Vessie, find out wots wot!

      #872
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        His door was open. He had his back to her, looking out at the storm. Veranassessee knocked lightly on the door and entered. He turned towards her.

        You’re wet Agent V, he said, his eyes running slowly up and down her body.

        His gaze came back to her face and their eyes locked. She felt her knees go weak. God does that really happen?

        Why had nothing changed? She had not seen him for so long, had almost forgotten about him. She loved Mahiliki… didn’t she? She had managed to convince herself that Agent Gabriele was in the past. That was where he belonged. He was a fantasy.

        She was not a child anymore.

        God, but he was gorgeous though. Dark, sexy, he gave off an aura of untamed passion just barely suppressed below the surface. His face was more mature, more closed off than before, but still almost unbelievably handsome. At one time she had known every line of his face, memorized it, retraced it over and over in her imagination. She thought she had known him.

        He smiled. Better get you out of those wet clothes, you’re dripping on the carpet.

        Still holding his gaze, almost defiantly she pulled her dress off and let it drop in a soggy heap on the ground.

        She wanted this didn’t she? She turned and closed the door behind them.

        #871

        — Who are you? said Alana. And how did you get here?

        The man who was standing before her was smiling mysteriously. She was staring at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice the hint of fear on her face. What was puzzling her most was that she didn’t know who he was working for, was he an agent of the Baron? It was quite unlikely. The French man Langlade had always been working alone since his misadventure with Harry, and the Baron wouldn’t double his agent if unnecessary.

        — My name is Andrimiñ. And as of how I got here… let’s say I know how to get through :) What matters is that I’m here to offer you my assistance…

        His smile was quite hypnotic, and she almost lost track of what was happening (very unusual of her) when a few knocks on the door and Mr Isashi’s voice reminded her of her guest.

        Are you all right, Aunt?

        The man was staring at her with his blue eyes, she had a strange feeling and she knew she had to move quickly.

        Aunt? Is there someone with you? I heard a man…

        — I can show you how to activate the skull, Atiara. And help you with this man.

        Suddenly she knew she could trust him. Something in his last words… there was much unsaid, and the name he gave her… she was having the weirdest feelings about it. As if it was perfectly fitting. She smiled to him, her tensions released. He was now looking at the door.

        — Bring our guest in, Mr Isashi.

        The face she turned to the door was full of a new strength, mixed with a strange feeling of familiarity.

        #868
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          In another probability, Becky was in fact sterile, and was glad to hear her friend Tina propose her to be a surrogate mother to give her the joy to have little rugrats err… children… [¹]

          With a few embryos implanted to make sure one would grow, it came as a surprise that all of them did in fact became healthy babies…

          :face-surprise:

          Good thing Sean and her could afford a few surrogate nannies too… had thought probable Becky when she’d heard the news.

          [¹] This was in fact a cluster of probabilities, in which forks equally disastrous had her in turn

          • adopt a baby, but an administrative mishap has her end up, again, with a dozen of them
          • get custody of long-lost family member’s children that her lovely maternal heart couldn’t bear to leave to the social services
          • finding a few babies brought by mischievous storks at her doorstep
          • ad libitum
          #859

          The wind howled. It screamed in fury. Cyclone Ycart in all its majestic glory was ripping over the island, screaming out its rage, like a demon swirling from hell.

          The rain started.

          Veranassessee shivered and cursed beneath the onslaught. Water saturated her long hair, plastered her thin cotton dress to her body and rain ran in rivulets down her face.

          She looked wildly around, trying to suppress the hysteria rising in her chest. She screamed out their names, but her voice was carried away by the winds. Breathing roughly, she paused, drawing in a calming breath.

          Then she saw them.

          Goddamit!

          She stared in bewilderment. She could barely believe what she was seeing. Mavis had been right when she nervously told her Sharon and Gloria were having a picnic on the beach. There they were like two beached whales, apparently oblivious to the waves lashing perilously close to them.

          For a moment Veranassessee was sorely tempted to leave them to their fate.

          #849

          Al had just inadvertently telepathically overheard Becky’s long monologue, and was rather amused at the situation that he decided to stay quiet and refrain from intervening.
          It was a sort of interesting experience, to see how it would develop…

          A voice was starting to make itself heard through Becky’s neuronal pathways though… A feminine voice first… Then a male…
          He could even sense a third presence too…

          Al was surprised, as he apparently didn’t really care about what kind of probability would express itself. It seemed it was all valid, and yet, there was something that wanted to make itself heard.

          Becky was quiet now. She seemed to have finally seen that nothing would happen as intensely and quickly as in her swift imagination.

          But Al was intrigued… Who were those presence, they felt lively, very humorous too. But they were concerned about Becky’s changes of mood. They were considering probabilities too, as though Becky’s choices were important to them.

          We are the first-borns of Becky answered the feminine voice who had keep still.
          Potential first sniggered the male voice.
          Oh, shut up, Oliver the third one said you know well enough we are creating our realities, so better give her some time… No need to freak her out… After all, it’s like for Dory’s nine dogs, they only came gradually, and she just accepted them…

          Dory? Al was wondering… He had heard that name recently… At the wedding party perhaps?

          Dory’s a past overlapping focus of Becky and her step-mother too… answered Léan, the quiet one.

          Al was befuddled. He had first thought these voices were only Becky’s playing games with herself.

          Oh sure it was, answered Oliver, we’ve just be using that wave of thoughts to bring us through. It’s very multi-layered.
          See, take the dogs which Illana talked about right now. You know some of these dogs Dory had (or has, or will have), they have “flecks” of people close to Dory, other essences’ energies. Some are very clearly noticeable, other are more mingled. These voices are multiplexes of voices, more or less subtle energies being expressed. Some are very deep. We were riding the surface of them.

          So, Illana, Lean and Oliver? That’s it?… Nice to meet you… Al was still thinking aloud (like in big characters printed on a silent kaleidoscopic screen)
          And that will be your focus names? Oh, yes… probable ones.
          It’s funny you know, it’s like you are becoming more real now. I can feel some associations coming that help bring you into form. Like Oliver, I associate him with a black dog of Dory. A little grumpy one with funny black eyes.

          The two female laughters mingled into one delightful chorus. Ahaha, we will give you a point for accurate connection!

          “And Léan,” Al continued, “you feel like a young blond woman, friend of Dory ready to get married… Yet, I can see you have a black complexion in this probable focus, unlike your siblings… Sounds a bit confusing…”

          Ahaha, another point!

          “Let me see, Illana now… I got you connected with another friend of Dory… An paleontologist or geologist, living in the US, blond lively woman with painted nails, and… the image is just gone now…”

          — Hehehe, that’s close enough, said Illana’s voice. I can see we’ll meet soon Al

          And the moment after, the wisps of light were gone.

          #1795

          In reply to: Synchronicity

          TracyTracy
          Participant

            :yahoo_thinking: :cluebox: :news:
            Mongoose and crystal skulls in todays newspaper! And crocodiles!

            :face-surprise:

            #823

            It had been more than a week now that Claude had broken loose from one captivity to fall into another.
            Not that this gang of strange shape-shifting magpie beings seemed to consider him a captive, rather an impromptu host that they felt obliged to take care of. But Claude wasn’t duped one moment.

            His precedent prison on Tikfijikoo had been relatively easy to break out from, thanks to that unasked for gift of preternatural strength he had gained from the experiments he had be subjected to. Actually, had he not almost been driven mad from pain, he would have been on the loose earlier. Thank the Magpies for his recovered sanity…
            Security on the island facility wasn’t the highest and most difficult he had been confronted to. They seemed to consider the relative isolation of the island and its deadly sharp coral reef encircling it their main asset in keeping their experiments clear from outside interferences.

            Claude snapped back from his thoughts and gazed fixedly at a tender green sprout at his feet while humming a nursery rhyme. An effective trick.
            He had to be more cautious… He knew they could read his surface thoughts…
            Apparently, he could come and go as pleased him, but as he had tried to find his way back to the island facility, he had discovered that the landscape was changing each time he felt close to it. And soon enough, he was finding himself back to the hidden settlement. He knew enough to suspect his affable alien hosts of playing tricks on his mind to keep him in check. Perhaps they were even bending space around their settlement, as far as he knew…
            Not intrusive, and yet not a very different treatment from the inhumane experiments. Except he had no mummy bandages this time…

            Know thy foe so went the adage, and Claude was determined to know enough about his new captors to escape and complete his mission.
            From what he was guessing, as they had not killed him, they probably would release him (if he was lucky) as soon as their mission would be completed —a mission which was most probably the same as his own. Snatching the crystal skull he knew was there somewhere. He could sense they were after it too.
            He was wondering who had hired them to retrieve the thing. Obviously they were not from the common lot of thieves, most certainly not even from this planet, and anyone who had hired them must have been in dire need of the thing.
            He had been told by the Baron that the crystals were storing ancient vast knowledge and that accessing it had been only possible since a few decades, actually since the discovery of coherent beams of light (laser). But even accessed, the information stored remained vastly incomprehensible, and deciphering it could take another millennium without appropriate knowledge of its holographic proprieties.
            The Baron had told humanity was like a child being given a box of books on relativity… And even the mad transvestite doctor was only toying with the tip of an immense iceberg.

            Those Magpies were far more advanced, Claude could see it clearly, and he wondered how he could outdo them, if that was possible. Quite frankly he didn’t know why they had not yet retrieved it. Perhaps they were having trouble locating it too…
            That would mean he still had a head start, however short.

            :fleuron2:

            A faint barking sound seemed to echo in his head… It was apparently coming from… the gnarled trunk of an old majestic tree… Whispers seemed to come from it too, like a child talking with an adult, and whispers around them…
            The tree seemed wide enough for him to enter into the biggest crack of its bark…
            Could it be one of their secret entrances and exits? There had to be coordinate points were they could get out of this warped space… What was he risking to try?

            #1773

            In reply to: Synchronicity

            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              hmmm was adding that last comment up and thought that’s not right! … apparently as well as all their fees they also charge an additional .50 per transaction. :yahoo_rolling_eyes: Well there is the “5” again … reminding me to have fun. oh and this is comment 255

              Ella Bella got her rats – two of them, and one of them has been called Lusy. :mouse: and Katie says they are lovely and look you right in the eye when you talk to them :face-glasses:

              Table 12 again at a cafe i went today.

              :yahoo_big_hug:

              #1436
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                :cocktail: ahaha, makes me think of Hoopus Focus :yahoo_oh_go_on: :face-grin:

                #1434
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  :beer:
                  sitting here having a drink by myself …

                  NUF – I know we said this one already but I quite like it
                  NUFF – Not Unother Freakin Focus
                  EPIC – misspelling of Eric or alternatively ENERGY PLAYING IN COLLABORATION – well a hard word to live up to though.
                  SPOD – means nothing, just like the sound of it … oh no hang on it does mean something :yahoo_nerd:
                  LOONAR – I am channeling Finnley now

                  :face-plain:

                  might go home and cook dinner (spuds) instead …

                  #2017

                  In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    connection notice(d )able
                    :big_rose: roses looks magic kiss :face-kiss: Franci girl love
                    nothing related stories:
                    village strange cave, weather °flove :heart: body office open …

                    #817

                    How restless that dragon is, thought Arona. Always shifting this or that, always talking in his damn riddles. She thought fondly of Buckberry, and how peaceful and content he seemed by comparison.

                    She was no longer sure where she was. She had gone over it a few times in her mind, but try as she might she could not make sense of Leormn’s cryptic explanations. Or that Malvina either, although at least she is a bit more pleasant about it.

                    Anyway, wherever it is, it feels a bit grey, she decided matter-of-factedly. And I am missing the others, even that grumpy Mandrake if the truth be told.

                    She closed her eyes and began to paint colours over the grey. She was not sure what to paint at first, so she just dabbed bright blobs of colour haphazardly onto her mind’s canvas. The colours began to run into each other and form shapes and it it seemed to her they wanted to take on a life of their own. So she let them, and it was not long before she found herself in a meadow of spring flowers.

                    That’s much better, she thought, taking a deep breath and lying back in the soft green grass.

                    :fleuron:

                    As she lay there her mind drifted sleepily, butterfly thoughts every now and then resting on some bright petal in her field of flowers.

                    Just living is not enough, said the butterfly as it danced by her head, one must have sunshine, freedom and a little flower.

                    Oh! said Arona excitedly, recognising the words from a far away time, You must be the butterfly of the story! The one my grandmother used to tell me when I was a little girl in the Village.

                    Perhaps I am! danced the butterfly and it whirled and twirled and swirled in the sky.

                    Arona rolled her eyes in exasperation. Now you sound a bit like that wriggly dragon. A simple yes or no would suffice.

                    The butterfly landed on her nose. Now listen here you! Don’t go blaming me. I am YOUR imagination!

                    Oh good point Butterfly, said Arona graciously. She pondered a moment … Well in that case …

                    And next moment Mandrake, Vincentius and Yikesy were sitting in the meadow with her.

                    Oh THERE you are Missy, said Mandrake. Might have known you would be lying around in some spring meadow leaving Vincentius and myself to look after your little sprog. Tsk Tsk, he tutted.

                    hmmm, thought Arona, that’s not quite what I had in mind ..

                    I would have said it’s exactly what you had in mind, whispered the butterfly, fluttering by her ear and then off again until it disappeared into the field of colours.

                    Arona turned her attention to Vincentius and Yikesy, sitting a short distance away in the meadow. She noticed how smooth and golden Vincentius’ skin looked in the morning sunlight, and how deep and melodic his voice was as he told Yikesy one of his seemingly endless repertoire of stories. Imagining a gentle hug and a kiss on his sweet, but it had to be said incredibly ugly face, she sent Yikesy into a peaceful sleep.

                    Oh great idea, smiled Vincentius with a wink. What I had in mind all along really. Perhaps you could also imagine Mandrake chasing a field mouse or something?

                    #1759

                    In reply to: Synchronicity

                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      SOME OF TODAY’S SYNCHS:

                      EGGLETON
                      reading a magazine in cafe, kept seeing the name Elise Eggleton … a journalist, seems to report mainly on appearance medicine type stuff .. (wonder if she knows about Dr B?) :face-kiss:

                      PINK PIXIES/PIXELS AND EASY
                      Jib mentioned this morning pink pixies .. pixels? Today a woman emailed with a request for an accommodation gift voucher. I have not done gift vouchers before as the whole thing felt a bit complicated to organise … however decided it would be EASY so said YES we do gift vouchers. I looked at the clock on the computer and it was 1:23 just to confirm this easiness. She emailed straight back and said she wanted to go ahead and could i send her one in electronic format? Well I felt a bit stressed by this and not very creative and under time pressure :yahoo_worried: so looked up gift voucher templates. There were quite a few, one was called PINK PIXELS. After trying all of them out I decided to use this one, and with some modifications it actually looks really good. :yahoo_kiss: thank you Jib for your help. (not so easy to post gifts :yahoo_sad: )

                      PINK AND POOH AND PANDA SYNCHS:
                      This afternoon i went to visit my friend Katie. This might not seem momentous but the thing is she is one of my closest friends but i have not seen her for about 2 years. She only lives 10minutes drive away. We did not have a falling out or anything, but I just stopped making contact with people and have been quite introverted. Anyway there was no sense of not having seen each other for ages or anything … just the strange thing for me was that her children seemed to have grown so much. The two youngest ones, Emily and William, both were playing with bright pink balloons :balloon: and even though it was a hot day Emily had bright pink tights on. William wanted to show me his book. There were two pictures he loved and pointed out for me .. one was of a Panda which he said was the “cutest picture in the book”. The other one he loved he said was “POOH” and he was quite delighted with this. Well yes it was a picture of pooh believe it or not. It was a design of a castle and showed a big “long drop” and a man shovelling pooh at the bottom of it.

                      RAT SYNCHS :mouse:
                      A short while ago I googled rats as pets, not because I wanted one, just out of interest. I found it fascinating all the anecdotes about what good pets they are and how intelligent etc etc. :agreed: I found it interesting as they are an animal which is commonly hated by many people. Anyway Katie told me that her other daughter, Ella, came rushing home from Kindy School the other day saying she really REALLY wanted a rat as a pet and is quite determined to get one. Katie was not happy about this. I was able to share all my positive rat information with her and now I think Ella will get her rat. :yahoo_nerd:

                      NUMBER PLATES
                      On the way home I thought how wonderful all the synchs were, and as I thought this I saw YES 57. For a short while on the way home i followed ERIC 1. I also saw BEEZ. Also HONEY8, which is another variation of the HONEYB one I saw. I do find it interesting all these bee related number plates within such a small area. Related to this, Sir Ed was on the news tonight as the Queen had a memorial service for him today at St Georges Chapel in Windsor Castle. (sir Ed was the original HONEYB synch on the day he died at the age of 88, he was a HONEY BEE keeper as well as mountain climber – this explanation is for Tracy who finds it hard to remember things)

                      555’S
                      still seeing lots of these, the last two evenings have logged on at 5:55pm

                      MISC:
                      Mr X bought me some cookies with hunks of ginger in them. Also I bought myself some passionfruit yoghurt. But I don’t think that was a synch really. I think I bought it because I had been talking about them.

                      oh that’s right, the girl buying the pink pixels gift voucher was also named Emily

                      F :heart:

                      #813

                      I am here to offer you my services in exchange for board and lodging Madame Chesterhope, said Franiel, deciding to tactfully ignore for now her rather odd remark regarding his reality.

                      Oh please, call me Phoebe. Phoebe smiled kindly at Franiel. Have you come a long way? Well really, I forget my manners. Sit down and I will prepare you a drink and some food. Then you can tell me your story and what has bought you here.

                      And so it was that just a short while later Franiel found himself ensconsed on the settee sipping hot mulled wine from a huge mug. What strange twists and turns life may take, he mused.

                      And whether it was the wine that loosened his tongue, or the kindly look in Phoebe’s eyes and the attentive way in which she nodded her old head so wisely, but he found himself telling her the most surprising things, as though she were an old friend he had known and trusted all his life.

                      Thus it was that it had soon been agreed that Franiel’s proposal would be a mutually beneficial arrangement.

                      It is as though you are an angel, laughed Phoebe, sent by God to help me, for it was weighing heavily upon me that there is much that needs doing. Dear Lydia who you met on the path, well what would I do without her, but she is not getting any younger, and Derwent …. her voice trailed off.

                      Well you are the second person to call me an angel, for I met Derwent earlier who also mistook me for an angel, but I am afraid I must disappoint you both, for I am a very ordinary mortal.

                      Oh I am not the slightest bit disappointed, smiled Phoebe. Here, she said, delving into the top drawer of a huge oak dresser, take these keys. I keep most of the rooms locked, for the place is so big and there is no need for all those rooms. Feel free to have a look around as you will. You will find your room prepared for you on the second floor, third room on the right.

                      Franiel was surprised and it must have showed on his face.

                      It is the room I keep ready for visitors. She chuckled. Most of the visitors I have here have no need of a place to sleep mind-you.

                      These are the others you spoke of earlier? asked Franiel,curious. At that moment though Phoebe’s attention was distracted. She looked towards the window, which was wide open though there was a chill in the late afternoon air.

                      Ah! there you are my lovely one! she cried, her face lighting up in delight as a large and colorful parrot flew in the window and landed on her shoulder.

                      The bird squawked and cast a steely gaze on Franiel.

                      Of course I will introduce you, said Phoebe calmly, Franiel, meet Vincentius.

                      #810

                      Quite frankly, Midora didn’t know how and where to look for Badul. She had spent lots of time delving into the labyrinth of chapters that composed the book, at first to no avail.
                      Only after some familiarization with the narrative had she come to roughly understand that the two books where rewriting the pages —or even, rewiring them— so that each time she started over, it was like a similar yet different story. Most of the alternate versions did occur within the same kind of environment, or the same dimensions as the previous ones, but there were always all kinds of small hints that made her get a small hunch that it was not quite the same story she had read before that was taking place now.
                      She had even become quite good at tracking down these flimsy moments where she found herself wondering what felt “different”, at odds, or simply not quite at the same place. Like in her dreams, these were precious cues telling her to pay attention. More than simple cues, of course some of them where howling at her face that something required her attention. The additions made by her distant relative Dory, or later on by her step-daughter Becky were compelling cases of such occurrences. Asynchronous apparitions of mummies sometimes reminded her of stories told by one of her father and where more generally speaking of symbolic death and regeneration, but when all of these cues where as many portals the details of which she could lose herself in…

                      Naasir had told her to find Badul. She knew Badul… Like Midora herself, Badul was a facet of the dreaming dragon who was exploring the many facets of itself in an intricate play, and it felt to her that Badul was stuck somewhere in the process and required some attention. In fact, she remembered that in all the versions of the stories that she had read about, Badul’s history was never ended. Each time, he was on his way to explore the new land he had discovered, and somehow, he just never get there.
                      When she was trying to get to the rest of the story, as much as she would search for it, there were only blank pages.
                      Perhaps it was for her to write them, like Indy did after she encountered that mummy decades ago, not necessarily to exorcise the experience, but rather to learn more about her connections.

                      What were her own connections? She wondered.
                      What did happen to Badul on his way to the clandestine traveling portal of Gralm Tur? And why did it matter? Did he found something about the network, and some link to the skulls which have been an obsession for quite some time for some of the major and most intriguing characters of this inter-dimensional sopoohpera?

                      Truth was, Badul felt a bit like an oddball to her. She didn’t know how to get close to him. Apparently, when she had read the early articles from her great-uncle Cuthbert, she had found out that he had connected quite well to the daunting character. As a matter of fact, most of his comments had helped flesh out the character, while most of the other participants in the books had been only remotely observing his deeds. However priceless these clues were, Midora knew by now that they were not absolute, and would rewrite differently if the story was asking for it. And in fact, perhaps her own addition would change whatever his fate would have been.

                      :fleuron2:

                      Midora could feel Badul differently now… a young boy, whom she is babysitting, in another life.
                      Bastian is baby Badul’s name and he’s a toddler, a toddler exploring an unknown world made of colourful toys.
                      Midora (her name’s Ada in that focus) likes to work for little Bastian’s family. The woman, his mother, looks a bit odd like Morticia Addams, or like a Cher just out of her bed, but Ada likes her. She’s busy traveling alot, and doesn’t have much time to care for the baby.

                      Midora thinks she has read about his woman somewhere in the books…
                      Could it be that? Yes,… there is little doubt about it.
                      It seems like she’s just run into young Carla

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