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  • #774
    Jib
    Participant

      The red dung beetles were little by little slowing their pace and their form wasn’t so absolute now. Some were becoming butterflies and as they began to take off graciously, Sam was feeling the release of a long hold burden. Some others were settling down into the form of mushrooms of different colors. He could feel their different qualities and their specific roles in his previous experimentation. As beetles they all looked the same, but as he was allowing the reconfiguration of the energy they were expressing very different qualities and meanings.

      He heard a joyous whistle and he suddenly remembered the Nanaconda.

      You followed me all this way?

      YesSss

      You seem different to me now, as if you were the snake in the Little Prince’s story. Though you are not the same either.

      Your perssSseption isSss quite accurate, I musSst sSssay.

      Are you here to help me go back home?

      #769
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Hang on a minute, Sam said to the Nanaconda. I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve dealt with this bucket of dung.

        The rainbow Nanaconda raised her eyebrows (or gave the impression of that facial expression, at any rate).

        As Sam tipped the bucket out, hundreds of dung beetles scurried in every direction.

        Whoa! exclaimed Sam, taking an involuntary step backwards.

        Nanaconda sniggered in a somewhat sinister fashion and said, Ah, the Symbolic scarab beetles strike again.

        As Sam stood transfixed by the sight of the beetles running in all directions, an extraordinary thing happened. All the beetles stopped moving, as one, and then with a seemingly united purpose, they all started moving in the same direction. Within seconds a long black army of dung beetles marched off across the field.

        Sam picked up the empty bucket and followed them.

        Nanaconda followed him, grinning wickedly.

        #93
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          I was giving Tracy a brief run-down of the Tifijikoo Island thread, and thought I would might find it really useful to have brief summaries of some of the threads, hence I have started this conversation as a little project. I know I still feel hesitant to join in threads I don’t follow…. Well, I am not sure how this will work really, and if you have any ideas or suggestions … please let me know.

          #760
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Elvira eventually reached the 25th bush on the left at Nutley Park with a bag of assorted garments for the near naked Becky, but there was no sign of her. Elvira investigated the rain drenched foliage, and deduced correctly that the bush had recently been used as some kind of camoflage cover by a taller than average person, mixed race and probably naked.

            Elvira chortled with delight; she had loved her days as a private investigator, all those years ago. Well, she said to herself, With a combination of forensic and physical clues, and telepathic and remote viewing skills, I’ll have Becky into some dry – and decent! – clothes in no time at all. Elvira stood quite still (in the torrential rain, which drew a few puzzled glances from the people rushing past), with her eyes closed and a happy contented smile hovering about her lips.

            Elvira was connecting to Becky, but she was picking up diverse and nonsensical impressions. A moose running up a flight of stairs, a monk sitting in the road talking about a cup……

            Pffft, said Elvira, no point in pushing it. Let’s have a look at the physical clues.

            There was an obvious trail of flattened wet grass footprints which meandered, at an incongrously liesurely pace, Elvira noted, in a random higgledy-piggledly fashion between the bushes, and occasionally in circles.

            Elvira set off along the trail with a spring in her sprightly old step and an aura of pleasant anticipation. She loved following a trail of clues! My, my, she said to herself, this is what I’ve been missing. Hhhmmm…..

            #757

            After all what did he care about the chalice? he eventually asked himself. It was will of others he had been following, and now the cup had been taken from him Franiel noticed a feeling of freedom within himself.

            #745

            Arona, my dear?

            The silky voice of Malvina resounded in Arona’s ear, while she was meditating on the implications of the story Vincentius had told her.

            — Yes?
            — May I borrow you Buckberry and your sabulmantium for a few moments?
            — Oh sure, no need to ask… Though I don’t think you require my permission for Buckberry, isn’t he free as I am?
            — Oh yes he is, exactly as you said, free as you are

            Arona could have sworn she felt a winking energy rippling through her flesh, making some unfamiliar electrical currents crawl underneath her skin. She would have said she was thoroughly disliking it, though she wasn’t really sure if she was.

            — Oh, Malvina added as if an innocent afterthought, we are moving by the way, perhaps you may find interesting to join us for the homationing ceremony. You may learn some more about your sabulmantium.
            — Well, why not, answered Arona having no idea of what a homationing ceremony could be…
            — Very well, please join us in the main entrance, where I am playing the harp. We will be waiting for you.
            — I’ll be there in a second.

            So, they were moving? Speak about implications… Arona muttered, stroking dozing Mandrake, who had feasted on too many of the moorats crawling inside the moisteous cave tunnels.
            I guess I’ll take this astounding elan as a hint that I’ll be going alone she said. A yawn for all answer.
            Considering it was Mandrake, that was almost a mark of distinctive affection… or was it rather of affectionate distinction?

            Moving? She didn’t want to move, not yet, not like that… And to be honest, with all the stuff in that cave, she sure didn’t want to help pack all of this, be it by magic. What an impossible task.

            Vincentius the nanny was taking care of Yikes, so she was confident should anything happen, he would be alright.

            :fleuron:

            On the outside of the cave, the dragons were all lined up, as if waiting for some unknown signal. Leormn first in shades of teal, and his spawns, Buckberry, with the most florid and baroque hues of purple that one could imagine, and the two facetious Heckle and Jeckle in shades of emerald, looking unusually calm.

            Malvina, with Leo the little marmoset on her left shoulder, was playing her harp, while Irtak was accompanying her playing a mouth harp.
            Some drums had been disposed around, and quite naturally, Arona felt like beating the measure on these, getting slowly and slowly relaxed by the music and guttural sounds produced by the throat singing dragons.
            She almost laughed and broke the meditating pattern when she let the memory of Sanso come into her awareness. What a shame he’d missed that, that would have fitted him better than her.

            Slowly the sounds stopped, and Malvina very gracefully rose from her stool, and greeted Arona with a loving hug. Her flowing robe was a tender orchid hue with laces of thistle pink, and her silvery peach long flowing hair were giving her the aura of a princess.

            — Wait, where are Georges and Salome? She said, are they already gone?
            — No, they are waiting for us at the new location, she said with a smile… Now, Leormn will start the ceremony.

            Arona almost said Wait again, in anticipation of what was to come, and finally decided to let it flow. The serene look of Malvina and her motherly smile was of a nurturing reassurance.

            Outside, in the grassy lands, the dragons had all grown wings and were apparently ready to take off. A pile of conic shaped dirty sand was standing in front of the entrance, that Arona had never seen before.

            She could feel Buckberry answer her unspoken question without even a word being uttered. It is soil from the cave, and we will use it now.

            Arona watched the dragons rise in the sky full of damp gray clouds, and wondered what they were doing.
            They are doing two things, Arona answered Malvina (again that disagreeable habit of reading thoughts, couldn’t help but think Arona, wishing there would be some World around where such thing wouldn’t be so easy), first they are checking what kind of creature are staying with us and following the movement, continued Malvina, ignoring the remark, and second, they are drawing with that sand from the cave a circle to enclose the area we want to move

            Arona didn’t dare say the explanations were making her even fuzzier, so she nodded as if abreast of what was going on.

            Popping sounds of the dragons blinking in and out to get some more dirt almost made her dizzy, and she forgot the strangest feeling she had when she thought she heard “the area we want to move”.

            — Now, continued Mavina, the sabulmantium.

            The dragons were now all back, and the pile of sand had disappeared.
            Arona’s attention snapped back to herself, and she handed the fine object to the lady. She couldn’t help but notice the glowing eyes of Irtak, who apparently was very eager to see what would happen.
            So he will move too, she thought, hope his father won’t be too sad… Why did she felt it was a separation from this place she had found she was liking…

            — If you look closely, said Malvina to no one in particular, but Arona took it for herself, you will see how easy it is to come back if you feel so inclined.

            At her touch, the coloured sands in the sabulmantium’s transparent dragon shell globe started to move. And all could see the cave being formed, with all the little people, dragons, glukenitches and even Leo and Mandrake… They were all here, enclosed into a circle of sand.

            — Now, if you will follow me… said Malvina who traced on the ground a curvy symbol.

            And very slowly, as the whole sand scenery inside the sabulmantium was turning in a round, they all felt as though they were dissolving into the air. Yet, they were all solid, and the interior of the cave was still too.
            The only thing that was moving was the exterior, twirling and changing, getting out of focus, and moving erratically at the beginning, and then getting close to a focal point. Some fine tuning was occurring.

            And in a snap,
            The landscape
            Was
            In all its splendor…

            — Greetings! a smiling couple at the entrance of the cave said to the people inside.

            #735

            The last words of the stranger were still resonating in his mind. Franiel was feeling a bit drowsy and he had the odd sensation of being looked from the inside. A smile illuminated the face of the man.

            You are the weirdest man I ever saw. he said in a sigh. When he realized what he had told his guest, he blushed with shame. I’m sorry, I wouldn’t mean…
            Hahahahaha. The man was slapping on his legs. Hahahaha, my dear Franiel, you don’t know how close to the truth you are. I appreciate when one speak his heart.

            Franiel couldn’t say anything. He was aware that he should have been feeling shameful, but the laugh of the stranger had dissipated that convention. He was just feeling in harmony with his creation. This last thought surprised him. His creation? He’d been told that the gods created all that is on the Duane, her sister the Murtuane and their ghostly sister the Phrëal.

            What was in the nectar? I’m seeing things. He frowned. Something in the surrounding objects, the mossy rocks and the earthly path, the grass and the insects flying or crawling around. The colors were different. Your eyes… they are… blue…

            The stranger was still smiling, not saying anything, and though Franiel was feeling as if he was communicating him important things.

            Something leapt from behind a tawheowheo, making the nearby dandelion seeds fly away silently.
            The creature was barking and Franiel jumped on his feet, making the chalice fall in the dust. It was similar as a mountain wolf, but smaller. Black and fuzzy. And it was running toward him.

            Don’t be afraid of Moufle, he’s my long life companion, he’s been following me in my exploration for quite some time in a form or another. He makes a lot of noise, but he knows his friends.

            Moufle was trying to lick Franiel’s face. All the love he had felt a second before was shaded by the need to keep the animal away. Not that he was dangerous. The stranger… what was his name? He didn’t tell him his name. Franiel was too shy in his normal state to dare ask directly. But he could at least relax as Moufle was now occupied with his master, who spoke as if he’d read his mind.

            I am not his master, you see. he was fondling his companion. He’s just choosing to come with me.
            He kept silent for a minute, snooting around.

            By the way, my name is Leonard.

            #727

            The cave was silent, except for the sounds of water springing from one of the wall.
            The night was long and full of dreams. Georges and Salome were here since a few weeks now, and the were spending a lot of time with Malvina, talking about many things from different places that Irtak had never heard of. One was called New York City, another was called Vienna, another was the Smoo Cave and there were so many more… Malvina seemed to know most of them. That was the first time he ever wondered how old she could be. Since his arrival here, it had never come to his mind that she could be “old”. He knew she was wiser than most of the Elders, but she seemed so young.

            She had magic. Maybe that was the key to her youth.

            He felt Heckle and Jeckle stretching their attention in their dream state. Their bodies were lying together on the warm sandy floor, and their light bodies were playing around. He could see them flickering in and out of the room. He could follow them if he wanted, but his mind was full of the places their guests had described.

            :fleuron:

            Georges and Salome were lying on an improvised bed, made of a snoot fur on the warm sandy floor. He was holding her tenderly. Their energy gently merged in a single movement. They were fully opened to one another and Salome was creating an inner landscape for them both to play in. Sam’s body was lying nearby, and her spirit was frolicking around in this inner landscape.

            They were sitting in the center of a clearing, at night time. The sky was full of stars and Georges did recognized the sky of the Murtuane. An owl was hooting not far away, sated after her hunt. They could feel her contentment, the hunt was good, several big mice tonight…

            Malvina was with them, and appreciating of the environment. She had had few occasions of going to the Murtuane herself. Even though she was so close, living on the Duane, its planetary sister.

            Where are we exactly? asked Malvina.
            Not so far away from the purple beach of Kandulim where Jarvis once came. Jarvis is a focus of Georges. And he surprised me once… Salome recalled that event with amusement.
            Georges grinned widely and chuckled.
            Yes, I can remember.

            Malvina sighed with relief.
            You are aware that my sisters are coming soon to the cave.
            Yes, we could feel the calling, so to speak. This is the crossroad of many probabilities, and it is connected to many, though not as spread as the shift in “our” dimension is or was, depending on when you project your attention.
            It was Malvina’s turn to grin now.
            Yes, I am aware. It will be soon time for us to move the cave into another location.

            SPOTCH

            OH! THAT’S WHERE YOU THREE HAVE BEEN ALL THIS TIME? INTERESTING ARRANGEMENT OF YOUR PSYCHE. THOUGH I PREFER MY CAVE.

            SPOOTCH

            Sam got on her legs and barked, quite surprised by this sudden blinking in and out of the dragon.

            HAHAHA, we didn’t even have the time to seem surprised. said Georges. Lëormn was quick. And he likes being in himself.

            Salome got on her feet and stroked Sam playfully. The dog was licking her face with affection, and stopped suddenly. She seemed to have heard something.

            The owl hooted again.

            My sisters are closer than what I first thought. This owl is an aspect of Oorlaith. Malvina’s gaze became distant for a few seconds. She won’t come tonight with us, though she gives you her fond appreciation. She’s currently busy with a man you already know… Leonard. Another one like yourself :)
            Salome raised one eyebrow.
            Leonard his here too? That’s an interesting information :) things won’t be dull with him if I dare say so. ;))
            I think he’s got a crush on her. He’s doing some stuffs for her at times… and he’s still with his dog.
            Sam barked a few times, waggling her tail and Georges grinned.
            You remember Moufle, eh!? Well, do you know where you’re going Malvina?

            She looked at him intensely and then at Salome.
            You might be surprised.

            #724

            Becky felt revitalized somewhat after breakfast, and decided to go for a walk. Sean was still snoring and mumbling in bed, so she pulled some clothes out of the closet quickly and climbed into them quietly, unable to see clearly in the dark.

            If the pile of wedding gifts on the dining room table hadn’t attracted her attention, she might have looked in the hall mirror, but as it was, she didn’t. It wasn’t until much later, a long way from home, that she realized what she had donned that morning.

            Becky picked up the doll that Patel had given her and grinned. She couldn’t have chosen a more entertaining husband for her mother if she’d chosen him herself. He was such a delightful practical joker, a real hoot, and Becky was very fond of him. She frowned as she turned the strange doll round in her hand, not quite sure what the joke was yet. She was quite sure there would be a laugh in it somewhere though.

            Well, time will tell, she murmured, and headed out of the front door to hail a gondola cab. Shivering as she waited, she thought happily of the honeymoon in Sri Lanka the following week. Becky wondered if they might extend the trip, and visit Sam in Australia.

            #2115

            In reply to: Snooteries

            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              I daresay the Cloud is agreening with the Snootie Cutie:

              Aspects (of the) front (leave you) wondering mostly. (The Snoot) smiled (and) next, (had His) face soft. Remember… (these hints) work (…) yesterday yourself seems give later (the) world(‘s best) dragon doctor

              Honey, (most) creatures (like the) mouse wanted human earth (like illite). Dead indeed soon others follow…

              #1896
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                And another snippet about crystal skulls…..
                :cluebox:
                “….if you wish to project
                your mentality and blend your consciousness with the idea of the
                consciousness of the civilization that has created it, so that you may
                in a sense, follow them, you will have to form a blending with all of
                yourself. That is, let us say, the safeguard, the lock and the key. In
                that an individual who cannot come to terms with the blending of all
                portions of their personality will not be able to enter the door.”

                #1690

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Oxshift :yahoo_rofl:

                  ahem, well for my latest synchs:

                  I followed numberplate J533 into town this morning.

                  Lemon synchs please see my previous comment well … i finally threw out the last of these lemons I had stored in my fridge yesterday, and thought fondly of the whole lemon synch thing. Then I noticed today that Tracy had posted the lemon tree song again in her ramblings thread. A short time later I picked up the local hawkes bay newspaper in order to peruse it, and saw that the whole front page was a picture of Noel Lucas (we don’t know him, I just include his name for accuracy) and a big heading A ZEST FOR THE BEST. Noel was holding up a lemon, which looked to be about as big as his head. It weighed 756gms.

                  Apparently on Jan 12th there was a story of a 600gm lemon (unfortunately I missed this story .. as you can see our local newspaper is full of riveting news …) and now a lemon war has started as lemon growers vie for the biggest lemon.

                  Noel has never fertilized his lemons and attributes it to climate changes. He has lived in the same house same house since 1983 and this is the biggest crop ever.

                  Director of the Lemon marketing board believes the bumper crop is due to an “evolutionary leap.” hahahaha

                  I think this is also a Nadia synch, biggest baby, biggest lemon… oh and also Hercules the biggest dog.

                  #1321

                  In reply to: Pictures Pool

                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Here follows a list of pictures related to various threads of the story.


                    Various sketches and early comments on the story inception — most of which can be now also found in the thread named Yuki’s Livrary — including sketches of some of the early characters (Malvina, Leormn, Dory, Fiona/Finn, Yann, Quintin/Yurick etc.), Dory’s map from her sketching book, a partial map of the Duane, and also Chiara and Buckberry


                    Concept Sketches, with Badul in Asgurdy, Tomkin Sharple on the shores of Golfindely, and Becky in New Venice

                    Naasir’s dream, an immersive panorama, where you may find some of the recurring animal representations in a dream-like essence land…

                    Princesses and fairies are to be acknowledged too with Mævel, and her legend and the Weaving Princess



                    Georges, and Salomé

                    Other-dimensional creatures, like The Snoot and a Nirgual (found on the Murtuane)

                    #701

                    I must be talking to an angel Yurick thought, as he was feeling the presence of the lady he had seen in his dreams a few times before. Her presence was remarkably soft, yet, she was unmistakably here, like a loving sisterly figure. Yurick could see at times streaks of a shimmering blue-green halo when he was thinking of her, and this morning, walking in the underground corridors, as he was humming and thinking of this angel, his gaze landed on a movie poster, with beautiful women profiles. None of these profiles had attracted his gaze at first, but a name. Salomé.
                    Then only, the poster slowly began to unfold itself into focus around that name…
                    The women were beautiful and seemed to be like beams of a multitude of variations from a single energy essence, like some traditional Avalokiteshvara (Kuan Yin) representations.
                    The title of that movie was “Les Femmes de l’Ombre” (Women of the Shadow), and that “Salomé” he had seen was the name of the director… How interesting symbolic information…

                    While she reminded him not of the Salomé of Wilde’s play, but of another biblical figure, the Salomé of the New Testament, follower of the Christ, and likely sister of Mary, Yurick decided he would call that gentle feminine presence “Salomé”…
                    A woman of the Shadow. For now…

                    #689
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      These are MY eggs! Nobody touches my eggs!
                      Oh come on, you’re not gonna make these ostrich eggs hatch Cathy… Better have them made into a nice big omelet for our guests… Fleur said with a tentative smile.
                      And why use MY eggs for that?! Moooom, she’s trying to steal my eggs…

                      What’s with all that fuss here? a coarse, yet sensual female voice said in the background of the kitchen.
                      Mom, she wants to make an omelet with the eggs that granddad gave me…
                      Calm down Catherine, will you… Is that true Fleur?
                      Err… Madam Wrick, I suppose it was only a stupid joke… Thing is that wasn’t such a bad idea… There will be quite a few guests tonight, and… she began to falter as the eyebrows of Dorean Wrick were taking a more severe look. Err… I’m sorry, M’am, I’ll send Raster fetch some food for a nice meat pie, will it be nice?
                      Perfect. That settles the matter then… Catherine, go back to your room, and let Fleur work. I’ll send you a maid to help you be prepared for our guests arrival.
                      Yes, Mum.

                      What a silly idea Theobald, her father have had, to give her step-daughter those eggs for her birthday… Big funny green eggs. He’d said they were ostrich eggs, but there were no ostrich in Mexico, as far as she knew. Of course, now the little girl’s only idea was to have the birds hatch and to mount them and ride in the slopes of Ireland.
                      This family was definitely insane, Dorean was thinking.
                      At least, she had thought her own branch of the family tree had been spared by the folly of her relatives and their attraction for occult and intangible things, but with that odd gift, it seemed to her more than likely that her father had followed the steps of his wricked brother… Or perhaps it was only an old man’s way of passing time. But knowing her father down-to-earth nature, that was not like him. He didn’t do things out of a whim, and there was probably more than met the eye having to do with the funny eggs…

                      A few days ago, shortly after New Year’s eve and stepping into year 2034, she’d had received an unexpected parcel from her cousin, Sean Doran. A couple of wrapped books, he was asking her to keep in store for him. She always had liked her cousin, though they had only met two or three times when they were children. Thing was, family matters were more a wrickage than anything else, and they had barely kept in touch over the years.
                      She had distractedly opened the big ornate leather-bound books only to discover they were blank. What was the purpose of all of this, she didn’t know. But unlike most people, Dorean wasn’t interested in others’ businesses. She would keep the books, whatever they meant.

                      And she had more pressing matters now.
                      Her guest were coming. Elvira and her demented husband were moving back, and were due to arrive tonight after a rather long expatriation in the lands of Russia. Having met that strange and impressive individual, the perspective of getting away in a foreign land leaving all the past behind, all of this had most probably saved Elvira from her depressive mood…
                      But she had been so isolated from her past that Dorean suspected that these almost thirty years abroad would have changed her profoundly.

                      #681
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        New Venice, February 2034

                        Al had finally completed his body experiments. The results were encouraging, and would probably help understand more of some bodily processes.
                        Obviously he’d had some fun with them, these past few years —it was a nice way to learn more about himself, and to bring some of that knowledge to other people. Essentially, it was mostly to show them that what centuries of so-called “modern medicine” had done was to make them defiant of their own bodies. The mass creations of all these diseases not so long ago was still very much embedded into people’s imaginations. How ironic was that most of these diseases were coming from the body itself.
                        So, what Albert was doing in his experiments was to push the limits to show how greatly adaptive the body structure was. It was nothing different than what scientists of the last decennia were doing on laboratory rats with many uncouth cocktails of injections —except that the trigger was for the most part an internal projection, no needing great amounts of artificial adjuncts.
                        Becky’s sudden and impressive illnesses, shortly before her wedding had not worried him too much, because he knew that at times the body needed to adapt to new settings and environments, albeit not always physical ones.
                        Another thing he knew well enough for having experienced it was that distrust was the most difficult part during this adjustment process. Distrust of the body, of self and of course of others. It was a delicate subject and most of their ancestors way of tackling the subject had been to reinforce the distrust in one’s own body. Pills and antibiotics could do wonders, but they were not that innocuous when they were used as ways to tell one’s own body it was not behaving the way it was supposed to be. As far as the symptoms were sometimes elusive, their physical effects could be quite unpredictable, depending on the patient’s state of mind.

                        That reality play they were all writing to record their various connections has always been great fun. They had been toying with the idea of great changes, new frontiers of the mind and spirit and expansion of their consciousnesses.
                        It had started during Becky’s infancy, were she was inspired by her step-mother and a bunch of her friends who were doing all kind of meditations and strange “imaginary” stuff. And two years ago, she had found old digital archives and had been amazed at some of the changes that had occurred during so few of the past years of her own existence, much of them mirroring these “imagined” changes.
                        So, she had enlisted Sam, and Al and Tina to join in that reality play, to continue the projection into that “Shift” of the mind and see how farther it would take them.

                        But there was something that Albert had always found a bit far-fetched was Becky’s confidence in such strides in their expansion of the mind. Doubtlessly he was acknowledging that things were changing —the last discoveries in how magnetic fields affected DNA and thus the bodies had been even compelling enough to have scientists reassess their stance on how DNA and evolution of species worked. But he doubted that everything would be a perfect utopia. And pain was such an inherent and useful part of their human experience that he was not conceiving how any consciousness expansion would get rid of it.

                        So, back to Becky’s illnesses which were mirroring his owns, a great deal of them was also about accepting that pain not as a flaw in the way they were creating their reality, but as something real, useful as a mechanism of feed-back. Accepting it didn’t meant cherishing it and holding dearly to it, it merely meant they had to recognize it as a way of the body to bring back the diverted awareness into the body. Well, Al wasn’t sure it would always be necessary to have it, but for the moment, the species was not entirely accustomed to being present into the body. Perhaps when it learns that, pain wouldn’t be necessary…
                        To reassure Becky, he had reminded her of how as a child she had grown teeth, and that had been perhaps one of the weirdest most disturbing and painful experience children experience in relation to their bodies, but her parents had been telling her all along it was just growing. She just had to trust her body knew better. Or like Krustis the clown was saying, it sure won’t help a man if he notices a thumping sound in his chest to have it stop…

                        Well, in a few days time, it would be Chinese New Year. The large Chinese population of New Venice made it a very loved holiday, and Becky and Sean had decided to wed on that day, February 19 th where they would all step into the year of the Tiger.

                        How funny, Al was thinking, leaning over the railing of the balcony, looking at the sunset reflecting over the waters… These funny people that Becky had known in her infancy, the original FGF, they had seen New York under waters in their meditations… And that yellow car…
                        They had discussed a lot about this event, and some had been disquieted by that fact, fearing some impeding catastrophe. But all in all it had been a smooth occurrence. Authorities had been aware of the issue, and though they did not yet know all the mechanisms at play, they had been preparing some measures to avoid the city being flooded.
                        There had been lots of debates, as most politicians were advocating of building of dams to prevent the rising sea levels to enter the city.
                        But the studies of Dutch experts had been the most convincing, and New York City official soon decided to follow the example of the implementation in Netherlands of moving and adapting structures, constructions of buildings and plains liable to be flooded, and even buildings and roads construction on stilts structures, which Dutch had come over time to prefer to the dams, no matter how technically efficient…
                        Another imagery of adapting structures with the flow…

                        #676

                        A hotel room in New Venice, January 2034

                        Sean had agreed reluctantly.
                        As his father Lord Wrick had been aware for some time, Sean had been heavily drinking following the death of Margaret, and though he could still speak with her, he had a hard time not to take her as an illusion from his guilty mind.
                        So, wary of the impacts on his grand-children, Guinevere and Peregrine, Hilarion Wrick had demanded him to personally take care of their education, and have them move with him. The year before, he had acquired an old mansion in the Orkney Islands, in a healthy location far from the buzz of towns, and was in the process of having it restored. Its previous owner, Baron O’Dolly seemed to have disappeared and Lord Wrick had seized the occasion, as there was a nice big area of land around the place. Restoration would soon be over, he’d said, and he was wishing the children would move in the next spring.

                        Of course, Sean had known that his father’s proposal was no mere proposal. With the wealth and lawyers he had at his disposal, even if he would have to wait years, he could get what he was wanting. Even if he was to crush everything in the process. So he had agreed.

                        Why do you feel sorry? You are no fit to raise children, and Becky is certainly no better than you… the ghost of Margaret was saying
                        You know what it is, I feel so inadequate… What will my children remember of me?
                        Don’t be stupid, they love you… And I’ll talk to them… On the contrary, loving the old bat won’t be as easy for them

                        This almost brought up a smile on Sean’s face.

                        Yes, you’re right, and you are right for Becky and I… Perhaps we’ll have children, but for now, I suppose we want to enjoy being together, and take a deep bracing breath.
                        Then stop being so gloomy and go call her. Perhaps you even want to start looking for an apartment in New Venice for both of you, to make her a big nice surprise for your wedding. She didn’t seem so fond of the idea of staying in Dublin for extended periods of time.
                        Yes! And I’ll book our honey moon too… She wants to see so many places I suppose I’ll have to book a cruise over the world. And perhaps get tickets for the first trip in the cross-oceanic tunnel… Thank you Margaret, I’m so full of projects…
                        Why, thank YOU, she said with a bwink (a simultaneous blinking and winking, in ghost’s jargon).

                        #673

                        Franiel felt an unaccustomed tiredness. The changes of late, his own indecision as to his path, were taking a toll and his spirit felt heavy. Despite the admonitions of Aum Geog to make all haste on this journey he decided to rest, and finding some soft grass under the shelter of a tree he sank gratefully down into it’s embrace.

                        Just a short sleep, he thought drowsily.

                        He was awakened by some gentle drops of rain falling on his cheek. Not knowing how long he had slept for, and seeing the darkness of the clouds in the sky, Franiel realised he had best find some shelter of a more permanent nature to wait out the storm.

                        Franiel, he heard his name being whispered in his thoughts, it was no louder than a clear sky, but rang as clear as any sound he had ever heard.

                        Follow me!

                        And Franiel followed. Though he knew not what spirit it was leading him, he went swiftly to the entrance of a cave set in the side of the hill, as though he had known of it’s whereabouts all along. Just in time, for with a deafening clap of thunder, the heavens opened.

                        From the shelter of the little cave Franiel looked out and felt a mixture of exhileration and awe at the power of the mighty elements he was witnessing . Though he kept his body dry, he sent his spirit out to dance in the rain, and laughing softly to himself, he at last felt the greyness of the last few weeks begin to ascend, as though lifted by the hands of angels, said the soft voice in his head.

                        Who are you? whispered Franiel, feeling an inexplicable and sudden longing.

                        :fleuron:

                        It was the next day before Franiel was able to continue his journey. Making himself a small meal of bread and cheese from his provisions, checking that his precious cargo was secure in his pack, he set out feeling refreshed.

                        #671

                        In the flying car, Al was mentally reciting mantras and drawing symbols, and was distractedly participating in the conversation which he could follow thanks to telepathic transfers he grasped from his friends conversations.
                        His gums were now much better, and he had recovered a wonderful smile with shiny pearl-white teeth.

                        The car interior was now a bit small for them five, and Tina’d had to press herself on Al and Becky, who was almost disappearing in her boubou full of folds, her head wedged against the hat and the hat against the roof of the car.

                        Can’t we get some air in there? asked Tina, who was feeling she needed to breathe more.
                        Err… Let me check

                        Sam’s friend was looking clumsily at some buttons for one to release the hood.

                        Watch out! Becky cried, propping up her hat which had fallen on her eyes.

                        They had narrowly missed a bunch of balloons floating in the middle of the buildings.

                        Jeeze! It’s no better than the submarway this thing… Becky was being fidgety at everything and was wishing for the whole wedding preparations to soon be over.
                        Is that a frog we hear? asked Armando who had finally released the hood, having Becky clutch her hat, as well as little Chump, with the strong wind now blowing on their heads.
                        WHAT? FLOG A TIRE? Tina was shouting now, seeing now all the benefits of being able to telepathically communicate…

                        A click on a button. The hood was again put on top of the car.
                        Bit too noisy, hey? said Armando
                        Well, didn’t really mind said Albert dreamily

                        Oh dammit! Is there a damn frog in that car’s engine or what? Armando was stressed.

                        Tina looked at Sam in the rear-view mirror and spluttered affectionately. Al had just mentally expressed he was experimenting with new yeast actions in his digesting system, and that there was some minor inconveniences on which he would have liked some discretion… His belly was swelling funnily and making gargoyling noises…

                        Ahahah, a frog… perhaps even a blue-bullfrog with all that frogging noise! Tina was feeling surprisingly exuberant.

                        #665

                        Fine weather in Hawaii , he thought after the plane had landed at the Honolulu International Airport. He’d been offered an Orchid lei but didn’t really pay attention to it, almost discard it. Who had given it to him. He had no idea. Though the flowers were real now, and the smell was quite pleasant.

                        A man was waiting for him outside of the airport. Japanese breed.

                        Mr Langlade? My name is Isashi Mamoru. Aunt Alana was expecting you this morning.

                        Robert Langlade wasn’t here to apologize. She was the reason of his presence here, well what she possessed actually. The sooner he would meet her, the sooner he could continue his quest.

                        He got in the red car, and waited for the man to close the door.

                        :fleuron:

                        Harry was looking at his daughter walking on the beach with her new friend. She’d lived with her mother in Arizona since she was born and she was only visiting him on holidays… when she had time. She had a western style and he wouldn’t have changed her, it was her choice. He’d wanted to change his own when he was her age, more trouble than he had expected. But it was another life, it was another Harry. He was not from Hawaii himself though he was born here. His family was originating from Korea. His path had moved him away from them for many years. He eventually came back, but he was different now.

                        This evening he was feeling melancholy. 58 years old. What was the purpose of his choices?
                        His daughter that he called Makana, seemed happy with her friend. She’d told him she’d met him at a conference in Boston last December. But he was not very present to his perception. Though he respected her choices again.

                        Alana had told him about an old friend of his. She’d warned him. He was there to take something sacred. She had fear in her eyes.

                        :fleuron:

                        Narsila was swimming swiftly, following the direction of the calling. She knew others of her kind had heard the signal and were heading toward its origin. It was one of these emerging rocks where the humans had chosen to live.

                        The call was not directly connected with them though. It had been activated from another dream.

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