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AuthorSearch Results
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August 26, 2008 at 11:37 am #1045
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Anita knew there was not much time, although there was the perfect amount of time.
She had seen in her meditation a secret passageway, a cave under a pool and two people going there, guided by some inner knowledge. All she had to do was to convince her parents to go there with her.
And perhaps they’ll be able to come back in their own time in 2038, and not in this past configuration thirty years too early.“Dad… Dad…”
“Mmmm… What sweetie? Where are the others?”
“Not far. Dad, wake up mum, and come with me, I’ll show you…”August 12, 2008 at 3:07 pm #2152In reply to: The Story So Far
The Far-West saga
In 1850s, in a probable reality of South America, we get acquainted with Twilight (Twi) and her brothers Jo and Elroy.
They have a precious blue bull in their possession, coveted by Ogrean, the kingpin of the town. Hopefully for them, Ogrean is arrested (temporarily) by Ted Marshall, the sheriff for his possible trafficking.
Notably, Ogrean is possibly involved in some of the crystal skulls discoveries, during his travel to New Honduras.Twi who was dancing in the saloon of Madame Butterbutt, the town’s hallucinogenic toads-to-lick dispenser (insert some other romantic subplots involving the other dancer etc.) decides to go traveling in a freakus (freak show/circus).
She is now close to the West Coast, where she hopes to succeed in her writing and other artistic skills.August 12, 2008 at 2:40 pm #2150In reply to: The Story So Far
The Alienor Dimension, Georges and Salome
Dory (in our current timeline/space reality) meets Georges in a cave in Madagascar during her trip.
Georges doesn’t explain much, but we get the feeling that, though human, he’s a Traveler, crossing bridges through dimensional veils.
Sanso, who we happen to meet at times, is supposedly another type of Traveler too, but apparently happier to cross earth-bound space veils rather than time or other-dimensional ones.Georges is closely linked to Salome. They are involved in the Alienor Dimension, another parallel universe, which was initially used as the set of the first story bits and in which they are involved at some historical points of importance.
The Alienor dimension is composed (as we know now) of a central sun named Alienor, and a few planets.
One of these planets is the Duane, which is a planet similar to Earth, except having easier access to magic, and having dragons, where the characters of Malvina, Arona, Leörmn, Irtak, Badul, Tomkin etc. are supposedly living. A map of parts of that planet was drawn somewhere in the archives.
There are two major historical plots occurring; one in a time parallel to our own, with Malvina, Arona, Badul’s explorations etc. And another, occurring what we would call centuries earlier, with Lola and her dragon, and the Yellow Princess Atiara story-arc (see Araili’s notes).
Somewhere in between, many years before Arona’s timeline, there is a subplot with Franiel, the monastery succession, the chalice and other magical artifacts. As far as we know, it ties to the other epochs thanks to Madame Chesterhope and Vincentius’ story.
Madame Chesterhope is, we found out, known to Georges in his youth, when he first met Salome. Madame Chesterhope is originally from our dimension (Earth, around 1800s something?) but has learned how to travel and is thus able to move through dimensions, and has a few special powers, presumably thanks to artifacts she gathered along her trips.Another twin planet is the Murtuane, where there are giant eagles (counterparts of dragons), “mermaids”, zentauras (zebra-centaurs), green-skinned people, and purple beaches. This planet remains to be explored more in depth.
The third planet, the Phreal, is rarely spoken of, as its vibration was changed before even the first epoch, and is no longer ‘seen’. Guardians, a special race of this Alienor Dimension with great mastery of the energy manipulation powers are involved within most of the historical changes, and in this one in particular.
Malvina’s explorations are linked to those of her two “sisters”, each paired with a dragon. Initially she’s a healer, but recent developments have made her change locations a few times in space/time, and those alterations have inserted probabilities in the “past”. She has known Leonard, who is also a Traveler and who is linked to Franiel’s subplot.
August 10, 2008 at 1:24 pm #1028In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
12:54:07 AM 8-10-08 1da Geolocation Time.
wait. an entire day disappears. no matter the stars and crickets go on just the same. no waiting. on this journey there are places, wind and the night. stepping through the darkness I move slowly into the moonless night.
the driftwood shelter far away. thirst becoming noticeable. the clear water is enough for now.
rain begins to slash down. large drops that soak to the skin in a few moments. a hard driving rain at the front of the storm. leaves thrash about as if to escape from the earth bound trees.
Stumbling into the brush, i press close to the trunk of a tall redwood and sink down. the dust of the day remains here. even the crickets seek shelter. The shivering slows. i begin to relax, slipping into a dream.
an island. far away. the last moments of sun warm on my skin. a rabbit the shade of pink clouds against the fading light. the cave far away from my dream as i drift deeper into sleep.
August 9, 2008 at 5:40 am #1023In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
4:21:44 PM 8-8-08 1da Geolocation Time.
sometimes the flow climbs a mountain.
pause. step. quick step. pause again. step. upstream another step. the stones solid, smooth, settled beneath my feet with the timeless passing of water. the path of gravity. the rising of a mountain. a rapid, considered, going on pace. sand between the stones. the moments of time. light on the rippling waters flickering. the air transparent, timeless, crisp, cool.
knowing i’ve passed this way before, i pass again for the first time.
it’s good to be back. returning. beginning.
knowing my destination. the cave far above beneath the ancient pine. the boulder near the rough and gnarled trunk, slick and smooth. so hard the sense is of softness gliding with my fingers over the iridescent surface. soft to sit upon, to watch the valley far below extending forever into the distance. soft to recline upon, arcing my back. the warmth of the day in the stone, lingering far into the night to heat my bones. …knowing my destination, i take the next step into all that is new.
sitting near the water. deep transparent pools of green/blue. the setting red sun. a shelter beneath driftwood high on the bank. a myrtle tree draping a blanket of scent over me, opening my soul. with each breath. i watch the light fading into the words echoing through my skull… life is hard… the song…
Life is hard
Anyway you cut it
Life is sweet,
Like a berry from a tree
Life is temptation, baby,
Every single day
Life is hardLife is funny,
I dont mean ha-ha
It‘s not always sunny,
When it needs to be
Life is frightening,
Nothing lasts forever
Life is hardMy time
Is next to nothing
My time
Falls on you, yeah
Everything
Is in motion
Life is hardLife is precious,
No matter how you see it
Life is crazy,
Like yellow fishes in the street
Life is lonely
When you‘re not with me
Life is hardGentlemen
Is that you story?
Hanging religion
From a tree, yeah
My time
Is next to nothing
Life is hardMy time
Is next to nothing
My time
Falls on you, yeah
Everything
Is in motion
Life is hardMy time
Falls on you, yeah
Life is hard
Life is hard– J. Mellencamp – while on the planet earth.
ok. life is also beautiful. – 1da
it’s a cruel crazy beautiful world – J. Clegg – also while on the planet earth.
stars flickering in the fading twilight. the silence of a light breeze as pine boughs begin to whisper. the ache of tall trees swaying in the night with a moan like countless masts on the tall ships of a planet. blink. and i sleep.
August 8, 2008 at 4:30 am #1019In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
1da stood on the shore. amazement splattering awe across his universe. he knew as a seeker he had to return. his journey beginning once again, he watched closely as he stepped from stone to stone along the pathless shoreline of the clear water stream. the scent of cedar and low water rocks covered in moss penetrating deeply with each breath, he smiled… his return and arrival on this planet far into the valley he always and forever would returned to because it was the center of his seeking, he found the depth of his awareness opening…
“wait. which planet is this again? of the 19 it has to be one of my favorites.”
“timing is everything.” the whisper of the universe
“damp drats. missed again.” he replied to the babbling waters.
“greetings all ye who enter upon my existence.”
– 1da – as in the number 0ne (1) & da as in the smallest particle of nothingness. 8-07-08 …because of course 1da watches from a distance. planet geopositioning time being 4:27:42 PM in about the middle of the Pacific Pond.
August 7, 2008 at 3:55 pm #1014In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“Oh just leave the reader to do the proof reading, Yurick! If ‘there are no accidents’ then a few misspellings or a bit of mangled grammar might contain a clue for someone somewhere, somewhen….
it might be best to leave them in. You never know, you know… and anyway, I have this funny feeling that the pages aren’t quite as officially fixed as we might be inclined to think. Not quite cast in stone, as it were….Don’t ask me what I mean, Yurick,” Dory said with a laugh, “Because I can’t explain it.”Yurick knew better than to ask Dory to explain anything, and remained silent, with one eyebrow raised quizzically as Dory rambled on.
“It’s like the branches of a tree,” Dory continued, with a faraway look in her eyes. “The branches on a tree look like such a tangle, but they are all connected to the trunk ~ the roots might look like a hopeless tangle too, if we could see them, but they do know what they’re doing ~ feeding the trunk or the core which sprouts out all over the place. There’s a bird in the tree, hopping from branch to branch. Does he care if he hops from one branch to another? No! Imagine if the bird was so rigid that he had to hop all along one branch from start to finish before changing to another branch.”
“Hahahah,” Yurick laughed, “A Sumafi bird?”
“You might say the little bird is the present moment, free to hop onto any branch at any time, or even fly to another tree…” continued Dory, who hadn’t heard Yurick.
“Another tree?” asked Yurick with a mock pained expression. “I have enough trees on my plate already.”
“And the thing is with trees, there isn’t really a place to start hopping or a place to stop hopping, from the birds perspective.”
Dory turned to Yurick with a grin. “It’s a book that you can read from any starting point. No beginning, and no end… maybe we can have all the pages loose with no numbers on, sort of a do-it-yourself assembly…”
Yurick laughed, a trifle nervously, and asked Dory if she would like a cup a coffee.
August 7, 2008 at 10:57 am #1011In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
A Pacific island then… she thought
Let’s move there…
She could feel her ghost body hover, like a feather sucked into a whirlwind.
She had to be confident she’ll snap back right at her lying body when she’ll be over with the trip.
Trust that everything will be okay. As it always were. Will always be.She could see the Earth from above… The Pacific Ocean, its huge vastness, delimited by coasts of lights.
Oh, of course, she had not thought of that, but it was night there. She could see towns, concentrations of which were twinkling like shiny stars on a dark sky; but she didn’t want towns. Far too crowded, lots of energies that were maybe intoxicating at first, but she could feel she would be worn out in a second.
For, as she traveled in spirit, she had access to so much more information than people usually get with their physical senses alone,… it was hard to explain.There… in that dark patch, when she moves closer, she can feel the immensity of the ocean surrounding everywhere. She moves closer to that long island that must be New Zealand, because she doesn’t want to be far from any sort of indication of her location. Keeping an eye on this, she spots something which isn’t a city light. It’s dancing, like a fire.
How can she spot a fire at that distance is beyond her understanding, but she has learned not to question, and act upon her impulses.She wills herself at the fire.
Waves, the peaceful sound of the waves.
Around the fire, she can see a dog, crouched near a thoughtful man; there’s a young girl too, with a little white rabbit in her lap. The girl’s parents are resting in a hug, and a man with a strange energy configuration, the like of which she hasn’t seen, is closing the circle.
What a bunch of interesting people…
August 7, 2008 at 10:07 am #1010In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
She was squatting on the sand beach, near the now calm ocean. The light was so dim that she barely could see the devastation, shards of coconut and palm trees spread on the shore, but the sound of the ocean was soothing.
Aaah she had hold that pee for too long.
“MAaaAVIS!” That suave authoritative voice must have been Sha’s.
“COooOMING!” Tsk. One can’t have a pee alone…While she was readjusting her two pieces bath suit, ready to come back to the improvised discotheque, her attention was caught by something on the beach. A fire?
She squinted her little beady eyes to discard any of the hallucinatory visions that sometimes she had.“MA-VIS!”
“BLODDY COMIN’!” a hint of exasperation. “Mrs Sharon Stone, you ain’t the queen here” she thought. “I can go look for adventure meself, if I want to”.
Besides, the fire didn’t seem to be too far away.With the darkness that made very difficult their progress, Akita had made them stop near the shore, where they would see any trouble coming and had ordered the small troop to collect twigs and bits of wood to light a fire.
The parents were still in a bit of a shock, and were staying with a blank gaze, looking with an air of wildness at the soothing sound of the waves. Anita was playing nearby, drawing things in the sand, muttering words to herself.
That was a good thing that Claude was there. Unlike the others, he seemed quite strong, and the adventure didn’t seem to have left him short of resources.
He had been on the island before, and had said they had to avoid the constructions, which were all owned by the same people.
For all that mattered, Akita wanted to get to the authorities as soon as possible, but he had to compromise: they would settle close enough to have a check around and see if it would be safe to go there.In a minute, Claude had been roaming through the woods and had gathered a pile of wood. That guy was pretty amazing, Akita was thinking. Odd that he had retained his supernatural strength… At least, Akita had imagined that the guy’s strength was the result of the spider exposure, but now he started to doubt it. He had been sketchy to say the least around the circumstances of his presence.
As far as he himself was concerned, Akita wished he had retained somewhere his connection to Kay, wherever his spirit dog was. What the creature had said? That veils were thicker, but not impermeable… Or something around that.I think they’re still hanging around
What? What did you say? But Anita didn’t answer. Perhaps his tired mind was imagining things.
With all that rain soaked wood, it would be difficult to get anything but smoke.
I’ve got a lighter Claude handed him an expensive ziraf that flashed moon reflection in his eyes.
Let’s get started then.
What now?
A roaring sound of a flying thing startled Mavis, passing over her head.
Mmm… this island’s getting too crowded, me think. Must be another of Vessie’s guests… That gal sure’s got how to use her sex-apple.”
August 1, 2008 at 4:05 pm #1002In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky noticed with a satisfied smile that the word ‘Becky’ was by far the biggest word in the cloud. Hhhhmmmm, interesting, she murmured as she perused her random (well semi-random ~ she had deliberately chosen a cloud-batch with her name in it) selection of words.
sudden feeling!!
breathe!!
remembered sort (appear soft?)
~ akayli?? ~
seem…. cave…. yeah, huge!
known luce; knew agreed.
becky full power hey!
July 22, 2008 at 11:20 am #985In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The door of the garage opened with a creaking sound, and Madame Chesterhope sped up into the gritty alley.
In that dimension where she had hidden her command base, people were a bit sloppy about roads and tarmac, so she had designed a little modification on her machines to be able to levitate in some of the less practical areas; but she had to admit,… she loved the vibrations and bumps that the motorbike created with the friction of the ground surface.
She started to giggle, all enthusiastic about the speed and the wind in her hair, that she ignored the road sign indicating that the road was flooded some miles ahead. The rain had been pouring cabbages all past hexades, so much so that her leather suit was in all honesty the best thing she could have worn, not to mention the fact of course, that it was making her totally sexy.
Two peasants were coming her way, looking at her with wild eyes like they had just seen something otherworldly. Ahahah she laughed, the fools would soon have forgotten everything about it (another handy and sly magical modification she nodded to herself). Looking in her rear mirror, she could still see them wiggle their hands in a frenzy… What the fl…!On the road, the two peasants wondered what in the name of Shaint Lejus was that rider… But worse, it was heading straight to the pool that the swollen river had made recently, outpouring on fields and little sniggly and thorny paths, like this one. Making desperate signs to be seen and warn it, they watched in horror the black podgy thing with flabby flapping schpurniatz arms sink straight to the bottom of the pool.
The landing was a bit bumpy, but she found her balance quickly. Those transdimensional puddles were a bit rough to get accustomed to, but once you knew how to manipulate it, you couldn’t forget it.
Now, all she needed to got to the location she was heading to was to hop through a few more transdimensional puddles.
Actually, all sorts of puddles could do the job, water puddles, even oil puddles… or run-over poodle puddles for that matter. She preferred water ones, for the quality of water was very fluid, and allowed for easier defocusing. Lately she had tried transdimensional exhaust fumes clouddles, but that was a bit disorienting more than helping.
As far as she could tell, this first one had been projecting her to a dimension in between Earth and the Duane. Incorporating vibrational qualities of the two, with a little more rigidity though. The machine needed a little time to stabilize and get prepared for the next transdimensional jump.
As far as she could tell, she was in a place that was not unlike her birthplace, in the countryside of England. There were occasionally some giveaways that she still wasn’t quite there yet, like an erratic flying schpurniatz, but she was close now.
A few meters in front of her, she could see a lovely puddle that could do for the next jump. A bit small for her… well, motorbike, what were you thinking… but that would probably do it. She took another breath, then pushed the TDPP (Trans-Dimensional Puddle Propeller) button.Flof-flof-flof-flof…
Bugger, bugger…. What the bloody heck!Straw was flying all over her hair, and obfuscating her vision… Darn last puddle had to much mud in it, and her concentration went off for a split second, heading her towards a field of barley.
Turning round and round for a moment in complete disorientation, she finally pushed the levitation button to take a little altitude.
Oh, now,… at least she could tell she was in England, because she knew that place.
How perfect! She could now just move into the dimension to the Pacific island. The GPS included in the modern expensive motorbike had been bipping as soon as it had found again the satellites, and it was now pointing the direction.
Giggling again, she pushed a new button and disappeared into the sky in a supersonic puff of smoke.a few days later, Chestershire, UK
AFP - 2008-07-21 - An new amazing design has been reported by eye-witnesses on a crop of barley of a local farmer along with reports of strange booming sounds and orbs of light. A sight to behold, the delicate intricacy of these interwoven patterns is believed by many to be the work of the Crop-circle Makers, some alien intelligence desiring to communicate with us. The theme of this crop-circle is thought to be a variation on planet Venus cycles, and would be highlighting the number of cycles lefts until the notorious end-date of Mayan calendar, Dec. 21st 2012. Scientists have brushed off the allegations of elderly pranksters, as this one seemed to have required levels of astronomical knowledge far beyond human intelligence.
July 20, 2008 at 10:07 pm #983In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Madame Chesterhope went to the garage, to get one of her preferred modes of transportation.
She had dressed for the occasion in black leather, shouting a spell in a hurry to the mirror which had been flippantly reflecting back at her some awfully podgy image. Voodoo mirrors weren’t the quality they used to be these days. Bloody buggers of Goblinkeas manufactors… She would have a word with them soon.There it was. A shiny Farley Travinston motorbike.
With some magical modifications, of course, but it had retained overall form and purpose closely similar to the original design. How she loved those machines! She had started to gather them for centuries (in Earth way of counting time), and she could still remember her very first one, the wreck it was compared to this one …
Of course, she had no use for them, but wasn’t that the point of decadent treasure piling up?All geared up, she hopped on the seat, and started the trans-dimensional engine. Where was it already? Pacific island… That could sound like vacations she smiled to herself…
July 14, 2008 at 10:59 am #975In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Well, now you mention it, sweetie, it’s quite funny because I was about to tell you the exact same comment… That may be a hint that at least our telempathic skills are slightly better when they are shifted, Leormn said with a draggle (that’s a dragon giggle)
Arona could feel a warm blanket of his energy trying to reach her between her toes, but she felt so very ticklish, that she resisted a bit.
Just keep it still, you snuggly dragon she managed to say between short laughs
You’ll find your friends back, you know; that’s just that you now need to beat your drums for a while,… just as Malvina needed to. I meant to tell you, she can get pretty hot-tempered, and usually it’s not a pretty sight, so she prefers to put everyone out of the way; and frankly, even for me it can be hard to reach her through all these dark clouds grumbling in her head.
I thought the others were in that darn cave too? said Arona in disbelief (for she knew dragon’s talks weren’t really to be trusted)
Well, can’t you tell for yourself? You’re more than capable to tune your vibration to your friends if you want to. You are as far from your friends physically as you are from them in your vibrational offering to the Universe
You look different dragon, looks like you’re not speaking like the Leormn I knew Arona shook her head to try to see between the mist of teal-smoke enveloping and twirling around her.
All things change Arona, and you know that better than anyone. Simply trust your feelings, and reach for the new version of those things you thought lost. They may appear different, but you’ll know without a doubt that you’re where you want to, when your anguish has left place to that warm feeling of being in the place you want that you long for.
June 25, 2008 at 10:43 am #945In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky visited the nursery at The Facility every day, and smiled vaguely at the triplets, relieved that they were thriving and being well cared for. She had spent several happy hours ordering a new wardrobe online, charging it all to The Facility, whose staff were being wonderfully kind and accomodating. She spent the days reading historical novels, lounging on the recliners on the numerous patios and balconies, or strolling through the colourful leafy gardens, or floating in the cool lotus filled pools, without a care in the world.
The past few months had been draining, exhausting. The unexpected break from everything that was familiar was doing her a power of good.
One hot still afternoon, Gayesh, the director of the facility, called her into his large airy office. The antique ceiling fan ruffled the papers on his desk. The papers were part of the antique decor, giving the room a nostalgic 20th century air.
Becky, we have been observing you while you’ve been staying with us, Gayesh said kindly. And we would like to make you an offer.
Observing me? asked Becky, feeling a trifle violated.
Oh, you know, at the essence level, dear, replied Gayesh, with a gentle smile. Your essence did agree, we couldn’t be intrusive, of course, as you know.
Oh well, if my essence agreed that’s ok I guess, answered Becky, mollified. What’s your offer?
Gayesh explained at length the purpose of the Facility, while Becky yawned and studied her new shoes, her mind wandering…
…….and so, in a nutshell, Gayesh was saying, If you give us permission, we can send a cloned Becky back to Galle, and the husband Sean, while you, my dear, do whatever you desire. You can be mother to the essences already lined up to manifest via your, er, the clones, body (and may I point out that none of our undercover clones so far have been uncovered, shall we say), which will facilitate….Gayesh chuckled….your new found freedom! You will be a free Becky that nobody knows exists! Free to wander hither and yon, without any responsibilities…..what do you say?
I accept your offer, sir! Becky said, jumping up to shake Gayesh’s hand.
June 13, 2008 at 12:04 pm #932In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
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.
June 10, 2008 at 9:14 am #926In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
June 1, 2008 at 12:10 am #918In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
When Phurt awoke, it was all dark and the soil was sodden and drenched and she was all wet to the tips of her fine black and white hair. Her pairs of eyes blinked as a bright lightening illuminated the whole place.
It looked like a forest, and though everything was silent now safe the sound of the cyclone, she could tell there was water not very far, and that place had all aspects of a body of land surrounded by waters.
Jumping on her fine legs, she took a look around, looking for any clue… where she could start to build her new nest. The little ones would be soon requiring her attention, and she would have to secure a perimeter for them and herself. Who knew what unknown danger was looming in this unknown place?
As if answering her silent question, a thunder rolled into the sky opening it in two in a flash of a thunderbolt, revealing somewhere in the less dense parts of the forest, a protruding tip of what seemed a huge white dome-like structure.
That would be perfect indeed…Coming from it, a shriek suddenly filled her ears, parts of which where so clearly in the ultrasounds part of the spectrum that she could hear it perfectly…
HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-ah!
Glo was beaming.
— Aye, I think we got them all the nasty buggers!
— Good riddance! Good thing we took off our clothes, with all that nasty pomegranate juice everywhere
— Odd that those magpies gushed all bloody purple blood everywhere
— Odd indeed, now ye mention it, Sha
— What’s that “indeed” business all about now? Speaking like a bloddy ascended being are ye? Sharon said while readjusting her bra.
— Ascended beings my tits, never ‘ere when ye need them… Now, look at all this purple juice stains now, ruined all our beauty treatments…
— So what we gonna do of this UV lamp now? Sharon asked
— Odd lamp… Looks more a skull than a lamp to me, Sha…
— Yeah, they got bizarrest tastes ‘ere, with that clever doctor…
— Sure, that one obviously doesn’t know how to put lipstick properly, now you say it…
— UV skull-shaped lamps now… Next thing we know, we got magpies’ Bloody Margies
— Bloody Margies! Ya’re so smart Sha, ahahaha!
— I reckon we better keep it safe… Poor Vessie seems to have much on her plate with that sexy Italian… don’t want to make another bloddy blunder …
— Ya’re the brain, I reckon Sha. Let’s find Mavis and have some snacks… That honeystuff in the fridge was sooo addictiveMay 20, 2008 at 11:46 am #904In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The portal has opened, we must hurry said Araili
Araili had felt something more, that he didn’t want to share yet with Akita and his spirit dog Kay. He had felt that something, or someone was trying to make its way from the wortex. However, the whole area was tightly held in a sort of quarantine by the giant spiders. Their genetic ancestral memory was aware of previous huge bleedthroughs like this one, and they had what humans would call “prophecies” amongst their kin, of such occurrences being heralds of tremendous upheavals.
Araili, who was extending far beyond this guise of a lynx that he had taken now, smiled when he thought of how some of his earthly medieval focuses would have been similarly frightened by natural events like eclipses.It did not take long to them to find Anita’s parents. They were right at the spot that the big arachnid had just left, wrapped in silky spider bandages with little skin left to breathe.
— They seem alive. checked Akita. Heavily sedated, but alive… Now, we’ll have to get them out of here quick.
— I think I have an idea smiled Araili.Claude had finally came out of what he thought was just a strange tree, but then, his preternatural senses where telling him something was wrong. This place looked different. No, this place felt different.
And smelt different too.There were soft sounds, crawlings he could hear, very near his place. They were coming from him, but he would fight.
He jumped on a tree, and in a few vigorous movements, was perched on top of it.
He almost gapped when he saw the black circle of huge spiderly creatures around his tree.They were staying at a distance from the wortex. But for how long… He couldn’t wait for his death.
From the top of the tree, Claude jumped unscathed. Taking a look around, he found exactly what he needed.
Breaking a few sharp bamboos poles, he started his move to the black circle in a prodigious and accelerated run.From atop a nearby tree, Armelle was considering the whole scene. The wortex would probably last a few hours, perhaps a bit more. Anita, Rafaela and Yuki were about to be here soon, she had warned them of the spider circle, so that they would hide until she has found them a way to get through.
She had not expected someone to come out of it. That may be her way…
Phurt was coming closer and closer now. She could feel the surge of power, and the trepidation raising all the hair on her legs. She couldn’t possibly confront all of the sisters. Not yet.
She had to find a way to get past.As if Arachneiax, Goddess of her kind had heard and answered her plea, a dying cry, confusion, and call for help came to her senses from a border of their circle. A perfect diversion…
May 19, 2008 at 1:33 am #900In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
START! said Tina.
Becky and Tina were doing a meditation together, and Becky decided to just write whatever popped into her head. She could always delete it afterwards, or edit it, she reasoned.
“Bagpush got out of the washtub”, Becky scribbled, “ And scooted down along the river line to the marks butty big one by the farm. Heavens above, fishly, what’s that brown thing on the water butt? Gawbsmacker said, don’t be talking like that, shekeltons in a hide to ho where and its first light, fair bright and hey ho the wash go. Abbon Ipswich, slaty flats of corncake, hey dee on the wash bucket, spittin in the hole hey down dooly. Margaret Apsworth laying on the white cotton cake spread, fair dooly down the one hooly. Ay and its a hey ho fair fooly down by the wash pooly, drum rolling in the har fool haley, down by the dash darnly. I said, hey ho the brown tooly, hoggin all the raw tooly, stewing in the far fooly for eight pence an hour. Said Mavis of the green sportwear, theres may flowers in the far horse hair, weel butter in the spar for tucker and muck down in the cow butter, said bree in the bird barny, a flying for the far fooly, well its knees up and out your dooly for the green hay beer fair. Its a fine night for a hooly in the row bottom in the far fooly, said mavis of the tom fooly, in the wash bucket down stairs. Once more, sell a nickel farthing, in the morning and in the darning, and say way more is in the star sign than a wash bucket down stairs.”
Good greif, exclaimed Becky, What was all that about?
What a load of twaddle, Becky, said Tina with a laugh.
Well you know what? It was kind of fun and refreshing to just write nonsense
I am sick of things MEANING something, Becky said, and then, warming to her subject:Lets have some good old fashioned MEANINGLESSNESS!
May 18, 2008 at 9:19 pm #898In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
She was feeling blank. It was as if she had no memories of what had happened before. At least she had still the notion that she was a she… wasn’t she? It wasn’t really clear, as she had mixed up feelings. There weren’t any physical sensation in the place she was. Indeed, she was having difficulties finding herself. She began to wonder what was this feeling of her she was aware of. To what was it connected? And thus, she realized she was too focused on the question itself to get any answer.
The letting go released a dam of sensations and informations. She was overwhelmed by all that she was and all that seemed to be thrust upon her senses. But the resistance was what could create pain, she knew that from another time where she was living the same thing. Resisting the communication was like wanting to resist a herd of fleeing raghlors.
She was feeling a presence in all this mess, something familiar
Was that herself looking at herself looking at herself looking at herself looking…
Her memory of what she was trying to do came as lightning. The sudden realization of her numerous tentatives at this exercise made her cry… would she fail again?
She had to find these other aspects of her, put them into a common direction… but there were so many of hers! which ones should she call to follow her? Which ones would follow her, if any? She felt sudden despair coming from everywhen. Despairs that she was aware did not belong to her, but they were powerful, almost annihilating her will. Images of massacres of people she knew, of people that her other selves knew, massacre that she had perpetrated herself or that she was perpetrating… any sensation of time could fit.Despair was imprisoning her and she knew she already had failed because of that. It was shadowing her motivation, giving her that hollow sense of herself, shielding her from…
Asiir, is that you? The energy was familiar and the name was a translation in her mind. It was an anchor point in all these mess of hers.
Asiir, help me!The feeling was faint, so far away. But as she was focusing more on it, she noticed her different selves were intrigued and gathering around it. And there they were together. A feeling of ecstasy filled her up… and out of her body herself was huge. The presence was gaining in intensity and it was as if it was her who was allowing Asiir’s energy to be expressed toward herself.
HAHAHAHAHA a thunderous laugh.
Startled for a moment she almost lost contact with Asiir. But their bond was stronger this time. She was filled with joy and self-assurance.At last, you are beginning to understand, Lola. We can go on and take the next step now.
She was truly riding her dragon,
, it was wondrous.
Well, technically you are lying on the floor of the marshes of doooom, but…
All of a sudden, everything was gone, she was back to her body, Asiir looking at her and nudging her left arm with her snout.
WOW, what a crippled body! How many times did she tried? Would he kill her with that, bloody bastard… a feeling of anger was infuriating her, and filling her body up, heating it up. How could he possibly be so inhuman?May I recall you I’m a dead guy? and furthermore, my focus wasn’t human… I just appear human to your eyes because you want me to appear like that. You have no representation of how my species could look like, but I may show you…
… soon. -
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