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In reply to: The Hosts of Mars
At the Monitoring Station Alpha-7, Eb Ruide was looking lazily at logs on the big screen and surveillance images.
Nothing ever interesting happened on MARS. Eb used all caps in his head, to distinguish it from Mars, the real Mars. But it didn’t actually matter, they only knew about MARS (Mars Animated Realistic Simulation).
He hadn’t been there at the beginning, but he’d heard the stories — even if all were sworn to secrecy for the sake of the world’s peace keeping, they couldn’t help but gossip among themselves. Must have been fun back then… Not a day without trying to fix something in the simulation. The lab rats were always trying to expand their perimeter, and physical and physiological barriers had to be put in place for them to help improve the simulation.
They were more or less all willing subjects at the time, part of the big deception. Eb didn’t know how it changed, what made them start to believe in the illusion, and start to forget. He could only assume… many didn’t believe in the world as it was, and preferred to go back to a foregone settler era where every life counted, and you could measure yourself against the big expanse of unknown land, instead of living the comfortable torpor like he was, alone in his Monitoring Station, only virtually connected.
Since the Aurora, it had been a bit hectic there. Actually, a big solar flare had almost frozen their equipment, and despite all the precautions, some of it filtered through the simulation. Water had leaked too, which could have been a disaster, but interestingly, it had given some of them a purpose, and all in all, it didn’t become the dreaded event they all feared. Even if all the ins and outs and communications were filtered, you couldn’t rule out a blunder. Especially with the lack of gripping activity.
Something biped on his screen. A red button was suddenly lit. He’d never been trained to know what the red button meant. He had to refer it to his superior. Oh God, I hope she’ll be in a good mood… Since she started her special diet and had lost so much weight, Finnley Morgan was always a bit unpredictable and snappily dangerous.
The irony of the ever-calm and dulcet AI named Finnley after her in the simulation wasn’t lost on him…
In reply to: Shamanic Journey Achronicles
Soul loss and soul recovery
Whenever you are in a situation with intense pain, grief, loss, or intense joy, excitement, you may lose part of your soul, or vital energy, it’s also called dissociation by the psychologist. You usually do it to make it stop, or it is an automatic action to stop the intensity of what’s going on.
You separate yourself form an aspect of yourself, and you are not aware of it, most of the time. It can manifest as chronic fatigue, depression, feeling numb, addictive behavior, etc.
In order to get back this energy, you have to reclaim it. And as a shaman, you do it through the process of soul recovery. Today you’re going to learn how to do it.
It is relatively simple. First, you are going to go in the lower world, find your main power animal. Thank it again for all that it does for you and ask them if they are the one to help you in the process of soul recovery. If not, ask them to lead you to your soul recovery animal. When you get acquainted to this new animal, you can ask them their name, and how you can call them when you need them. Thank them for their help and presence with you.
When you do a soul recovery, you may not know what you are going to recover. You may not really know what you have lost, or you may not be aware of symptoms. Just tell your Soul Recovery Power animal (SRPA) that you want to recover a part of your soul that you are missing at the moment. They’ll guide you through the process. Follow them, trust them.
They may take you through different places or spaces and times to go find that lost soul piece. It may be from your childhood, from another life, or dream situations.
You are going to be presented to that piece of your soul and you have to ask them what happen. Most of the time they are frightened and don’t want to come back. You have to convince them, and ask them what you have to do to show them that you’ll not do the same “mistake” that make them leave in the first place. It may require you change something in your behavior, in your attitude toward certain things, it might be simple or huge. Depends on what you find. And it’s up to you to see if you’re up to the challenge.
you can also take some time with your power animals to get to know them better and learn from them.
If you don’t know how to manage the situation with the lost piece of soul, you can ask your soul recovery power animal to help you do the “negotiation” part
but you’ll have to do what’s required by the soul so that it comes back definitively sts
If you still have time, you can go on a second recovery.
And remember, this is not a race, take your time, don’t rush, enjoy the journey.Eric
Before the music starts, I have the feeling of “Nagini” my snake power animal: it’s looking patiently at me with golden eyes. I also get the first impression of a spirit panda as a soul retrieving power animal. There are two aspects of it, a docile and friendly one, and another more fearsome, they seem to shift depending on his mood. As the music starts, I sift through few fleeting impressions (one of a lemur), then some stronger.
The panda comes back but I also have other animals who seem to present themselves in order, as if in different directions, and I remember there are no rules as their number, so I let myself welcome them. The panda is on the right, it seems connected to childhood memories, (call it “Panda”) then, on middle right, there is a spider (“Anansi”), it connects to the jumping spiders I’ve seen a few times the past days, and
one this morning I put outside instead of letting it drown.Middle left, coming from above and perched on a tree, there is a firebird/phoenix (“Fawkes”). There is another one, I remember a bit later that appeared further left, as if from the direction behind me, it’s an ape (“Hanuman”).
The serpent circles around them. I have the impression I can choose any of them, and they will lead me to different realizations, and I have the impression of the buddhist emanations, where enlightened being manage to split themselves into many as one. So I decide to ride them all at once. Actually, I start with the first three ones, and as I ride on the land, I suddenly remember the ape which was very discrete initially,but seems to be willing to show me stuff too.
The land we ride into is dark, almost volcanic in nature, as if scorched. There are trails that spread to different directions, and each ride goes down one of them. There are various visions, moments and memories from the past connected with strong emotions.
At one end, there is a little boy that shoots magma out of his incandescent body. It irradiates the land through veins of lava, and as it cools down it darkens the land even more. He seems to be caught up in a circle of rage or fear, fear of never seeing the light again. I listen to him without words, and realize he’s afraid of letting go.
I’ll show him the light is covered by his own cinders, and he needs to cool down and let nature grow back again around him, and I’m showing him I’m willing to help. It seems to resolve as light opens in the sky, and a tree starts to grow again… At the end, I seem to connect the scene to certain memories.
There is another one that comes in, where the ape is doing a certain pose where it walks on its hands. The posture catches my attention, as if to remind me of something. I’m encouraged to turn around to see the world as it sees it. As I do it, the world changes and spins, and the music starts to indicate the end of the trip. I thank the animals and finish with the snake before leaving…
the end
well, it’s very condensed, there was lots happening
It’s like I was doing many stuff at the same timeFlove
(no recollection)Jib
I have difficulties stabilizing my attention first, there is this kind of veiled perception I’ve been having lately. As I call my power animal for soul recovery I have a strong impression of a bear and then a raven. There is a kind of snake too, and I also feel a wild boar. I refocus back on the whale and say I’ll come back later. The whale leads me in the depth of the earth to a magma chamber. It becomes scrambled again and I just take a moment to refocus on my penguin.
First soul recovery
I ask him to find the piece of soul that would be best for me to recover now, and we go fly above something. The penguin flies like a rocket, super fast. I soon find a kid feeling presence. I have no real visual, and I keep having visuals of lemur, or raccoon interfering.
Then I feel that the presence is also camouflaging behind projections to be left alone. He left me when I was little, around 8 because the world seemed to disappointing. I have some difficulties at first to convince him to come back with me, and I show him what I’m already doing that’s fun and that’s worth doing and exploring. After a while, he agrees and I feel a nice warm feeling inside my belly as he is reintegrating me. I thank him for coming back. The only thing I need to do is take the time to reassure myself when the world seems too dangerous.
Visiting the bear and the raven
Then I decide to go back visit the bear and the raven.
I’ve already seen them before and they seem to be there for me. There is an impression of power with the bear and also mother here for her kids. With the raven, it’s more a mystical stuff, and the power of observation and seeing through things.
I am offered a kind of raven skull symbol of power and energy manipulation staff or something like that. I take it and it feels quite powerful, I have the impression the energy or the “spirits” would follow it when I demand it. Like make blocked energy move.
Second soul recovery
I decide to do a second soul recovery and ask the whale to lead me. I have the impression of changing plane, the focus is different, I am more on the middle world, and we go somewhere icy like Antarctic. Maybe near a shipwreck. There is a man, depressed and gloomy. I begin to ask him why he’s here, but he seems to want to come back and don’t ask anything. I feel very warm and loving. The drums begin to beat the return and I thank everyone for participating and come back. Saying I’ll take time to assimilate.
Eric’s account remind me of a few stuff
that reminded me a few stuff too because at one time I had to follow a spider and with the raven I flew over a magma land and the raven became a phoenix to be able to fly because it was so hot
thanks I forgot thatTracy
went down the stone steps, the unicorns on the left looked up as I passed. Zebra joined me from the right, said thanks but forgot his name! Then a white bear joined me, said his name was Waldo (or at least that name would do for now, impression)
He was huge but was very light on his feet the whole time. Came to a tall tree with a single very red apple on it. The white bear scampered up the tree and I followed. Various other fruit but mainly the red apple stood out.
At the top of the tree leveled out to a large plaza with gameboard design, the white bear demonstrated frolicking from one part to another playfully leaping in lightness.
Flash to me as a small child being woken up in the night by concerned parents for nasty medicine for chicken pox.
Same house but in the field behind, me as a small child alone by the wigwam of sticks dad made, frowning, alone. Next door to the neighbours pond, frozen over. White bear kept dancing on the thin ice part that we didn’t skate on, huge heavy bear, such a light step didn’t break the ice
Zebra was hanging around incidentally, kept feeling reassuring warm breath and muzzle on my shoulder. Breathing restrictions started, left the pond, down a path in the woods, came to a fork. Went left ~ papers everywhere, letters, words, snowed under with words and letters, monkeys pulling sheafs and sheafs of letters and papers and words.
Then a school of tiny silver fishes swan inside me and started chomping at all the letters in my solar plexus and spewing out coloured threads and ribbons from my mouth.
Breathing difficult. (several times just sank into intense colours for awhile with no imagery, plenty purple and green). I started doing sort of swimming motions with my arms with the breathing and fishes, had a sudden blast of energy in the chest and then later a much stronger one just before the video ended.
I should add the impression of less thinking/intellectualizing, less buried under a mountain of words, in favour of more purely physical expressionIn reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas
The ghost captain of the Santa Rosa was an old Peaslander, Peter Pugh, otherwise known as Petit Pois on account of his vast girth. He’d had a fascination with whales all his life, admiring their immensity and smooth shapelessness, and had devoted his life to increasing his own blubber ~ unfortunately to the point where his legs failed to carry him further and he died, alone and frozen, on a cold winter Peasland beach. A particularly wild storm with immense waves had sucked him out to sea, taking most of the beach with him, but his spirit lived on, piloting the galleon for his ghostly lover, Belen. It was a match made in heaven ~ in their ghostly forms, they were vast but weightless, able to occupy the galleon fully, filling every nook and mossy cranny with their energetic formless bulk (but without sinking the ship or flattening the foliage).
“Whale that!” he cried in response to Belen, excited to be teleporting to the balmy waters of the Pacific. The rough harsh climate of the Bay of Biscay reminded him of that cold winter in Peasland ~ he was looking forward to a tropical sojourn.
“To the Big Island!” he shouted, and did a merry jig which caused a tsunami a few hours later on the Galician coast.In reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas
Reginald gaped in amazement at the brainwave that had struck Sadie. Poor thing, he thought, she seemed to have these fits sometimes, where she would hang on a word, frozen in time for minutes, and then resuming as if nothing had happened.
He snapped his fingers in front of Sadie, but she remained motionless. Pity, he thought, there would be none of the delicious crocodile eggs poached from the Menagerie left when she would come back to her senses…In reply to: The Surge Team’s Coils
While stroking his mustache fondly, Ed Steam had the clearest realization that although he’d done that quite a few times in the past mostly to his advantage, it was a lot of work to rewrite timelines and figure out the hows and whens of everyone in his team.
Maybe it was actually time for him to restore the original timeline while disappearing — by faking his own death to be certain nobody would thwart his carefully thought retirement plan. Then, he could also stop dyeing his mustache he figured… So many things to take care of, retirement would be so sweet.
Although the Egyptian timeturner gave him all the time in the world, he actually felt like he’d lost already a great deal too much of it, and started to enact his plan without further ado.Procuring a body double was actually not so hard. The last surge had brought a few of them in Thrifteen’s Alley in their Moreguest Facility. A switch and a twist of the pocket portal and a zap and a blink of the miniaturizer was enough to get there and come back in seconds with a frozen pocket-size life-suspended body from the testing stock, with convincing enough miniaturized slim lips, safely put in a test tube in his waistcoat pocket.
A six-shot cudgel from his artefact war trove was all he needed to make sure the amateur assassin in red robes they’d hired would be taken care of easily.
Then, an enscombulator bedazzler ray spray would be enough to convince Mari Fe she’d managed to hit him, buying him time enough to then deminiaturize the thawed slim-lipped body double, to slip in his stead.
Last, but not least, he would then have a few seconds to discombobulize Mari Fe while disappearing with a backup transportable portal. The plan was perfect. The original timeline restored in pristine conditions.
Only for a few minor details of course. He’d almost forgotten to reprogram the mini-man in his pocket with enough memories for him to be a convincing Ed-himself sans la moustache of course. At least, for the short time he would survive (surge victims discovered still alive were placed in life suspension by the team, but this was mostly for medical analysis as they usually wouldn’t survive their conditions).
Oh, and the bloody mustache of course… A squeeze of foolicle solventilator would be enough to make it temporarily invisible.Simple enough… Well, sandbagging Mari Fe would have probably conveyed similar results with minimal efforts, although the elegance of his plan, as well as the fact that he was loath to hit ladies did unmistakably weight in favour of it.
And with that, he would be back in time for dinner.
In fact, he already was.In reply to: Random RewrEights – The Del’Eights thread
Ann Aspect had started the evening course “Free the Fiction Writer Within” without much hope, but much to her surprise, she loved it. She enjoyed it so much that on impulse she quit her day job at the Frozen Flounder Company and signed up at the Fiction Writers Academy as a full time immature student.
In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens
Everything was white, from the sky to the ground and the limit between them was not even discernible. Despite the lack of visibility, he felt confident that the house was near. His small feet were making crunchy sounds, and at times, between two gushes of wind, he could almost see the fur at the top of his boots.
At a distance, some woolly beast, a yak maybe, was making a muffled sound that resounded in the landscape, and like the beast, he was feeling strong against the elements. On his left were some black shriveled trunks of some small deciduous trees, and it looked like the only life around.
This was far from the truth; even if most of it was frozen in a deep slumber, there still was a lot of life underground.
He had been chasing a few rabbits, and though he had to compete with the lynxes at that game, he had managed to get one. That was why he was feeling so strong and proud. He could feel the still warm little soft creature against his belt, dangling at each of his steps. Soon he will be home…[link:white]
Topic: Snowflakes of Tens
“Let’s play a new game, shall we”, Grandpa Wrick said to his hectic and untamable grandchildren.
“We will start a snowflake. Only rule of the game, is that you have to go into the story. You can only insert things inside, and go inwards, and develop what’s already put into place by what’s been in the thread. That’s the only way you can expand the story. By expanding its details.”“How so?” asked India Louise who never paid attention.
“Just like that”, Wrick said, “if what I just told you was the beginning of a snowflake, you could develop things about the place we’re in. Think about it as a spatial story, frozen in time. And use the objects of events put in places by others as triggers and as portals to a more refined and in-depth view of the story.”
“Shall you start with your story Indy?”
In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
Ann Aspect had started the evening course “Free the Fiction Writer Within” without much hope, but much to her surprise, she loved it. She enjoyed it so much that on impulse she quit her day job at the Frozen Flounder Company and signed up at the Fiction Writers Academy as a full time immature student.
After a few weeks of juggling the struggling to look after the children and cook for her husband, keep the house clean, and all the other things a busy wife and mother does, as well as her assignments, Ann decided that it would be much more fun to stay in the students accomodation. She left them a note on the kitchen table saying simply “Have Fun Dears, I’m off!” and left, taking nothing with her but the clothes she was wearing (and the red wig). She called in at the cash point machine on the way to the Academy and withdrew as much money as it would allow her, and then threw her bank card in the gutter. Free! A clean slate, a new life!
In reply to: Strings of Nines
Becky was liking her dancing courses; there was this funny guy with an outrageously bright canary yellow shirt and a funny accent who taught them some Asian-based moves last time, and she’d been puzzled for awhile, frozen in her tracks and speechless for a moment (which didn’t often occur), as the guy was so weird and yet serious looking that she didn’t know if she should laugh hysterically at his preposterous wiggling butt moves, or keep serious like the others.
That’s where she noticed a girl in the class. Like her, she was lost in wonderment while all of the others where respectfully following the teacher’s movements with a polite straight face.As she was feeling bubbles of hysterical laughter desperately struggling to burst at the surface, she quickly exited the classroom, only to find that the other girl was there too.
“Ahaha, is he some sort of wacko or what?” Becky couldn’t help but laugh even if the other one seemed affected somehow, yet not indifferent to the humour of the situation.
“Bloody oath, yeah… Madder than Almad this one”
“You’re not from here are you?” Becky asked, noticing a delicious variation of British accent in the girl’s voice.
“No, from New Zealand. Name’s Tina, Tina Prout. Well you can forget the last name anyway, I’m going to change that.”
“Delighted, I’m Becky Vane. Would you fancy some vegemite on toast?”
“Sure, let’s get out of here quickly.”
“Toot toot! School’s out!… Mmm, looks like it’s ‘pissing down’ outside… Is that how you say in Kiwi?”In reply to: Synchronicity
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Finally, sailing on the Orgasmic Sea had not been as difficult as Akita would have thought .
Occasionally, while they were sleeping on the deck under the starry sky, he could hear a few “Ahs” and “Ohs” (something even some “Oooh” as far as he recalled) coming from the three ladies, but perhaps that was only the effects of their feeling again their skin against the sheets, since all their hair had almost now gone.
He was wondering if that was a special disposition of the Brits and people coming from the cold areas, that kind of bestial growing of hair, and shedding in spring… Could well be, as his Asian ancestors never had been accustomed to growing much hair themselves, he couldn’t tell for sure.
Perhaps they were dreaming too… As soon as they had found out about this strange piece of tile, their imagination seemed to have taken to new heights. They were speaking of Spreal, an ancient civilization buried for 570,000 years under the ices, near the Onyx river and had almost manifested the strong desire to come back to investigate.
Hopefully Kay had given him the perfect excuse to not comply with the sometimes erratic demands of the three Graces: the iceberg was slowly melting in the giant structure of plastic containing the freshwater from the berg, and the heat exchange was also giving the propellant for the trip. They probably wouldn’t be able to get away so easily if they backed-off now.
Hopefully their shedding had finished to convince them. Any vague desire left to go to the frozen place was long gone with the comfortable hairy insulation.Akita had thought for a moment of going back to his homeland, in Arkansas. But now that probably most of his family was dead, or thinking him dead, there wouldn’t be much point in doing that. Instead, he’d decided to trust living in the present. Not worrying about that elusive past from another life, and only focus on what route was open to him now.
Sharon, Gloria and Mavis were apparently not in a hurry to come back home either, and now that Kay was more and more easily accessible for him, he didn’t feel alone at all. So all was well.In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“Is there a probable Becky still at the Serendib Facility ~ in-the-rural-mountainous-central-region-of Sri-Lanka-in-the-2030’s ~ Godfrey?” Elizabeth hurriedly included some background information in her question to appease her publisher, the erudite and enigmatic Godfrey Pig-Littleton.
Elizabeth was amused to note that erudite was almost an opposite to rude, but as Elizabeth could vouch for, neither was mutually exclusive, as Godfrey was clearly equally at ease exhibiting both ends of the rude spectrum. But I digress, she said to herself, turning her attention to Godfrey.
“Elizabeth,” he said with a frown, “At your request I have had installed all manner of information retrieval systems, both objective and subjective, and yet you will insist on asking me questions instead of accessing the information yourself.” Godfrey shivered, attempting to wrap his velvet smoking jacket closer round his spare frame. The rich claret colour suited him perfectly, but it was clearly inadequate against the bitter cold. “Put another log on the fire, Liz, it’s colder than a witches tit in here today!”
“Don’t be rude, Godfrey” replied Elizabeth with a sniff. “I’m too cold to move, you do it. I’ve been absolutely frozen ever since Al sent us all to the South Pole. As a matter of fact, there’s been a cold snap all over the globe, which is why” she continued “I am trying to get us all out of there and back to Sri Lanka! We don’t want to start another Ice Age, Godfrey, this has to stop.”
“Ah, those were the days” smiled Pig Littleton. “I remember it well. It all started when Aunt Jeanne du Bappe was writing her book and wanted more ice for her G&T. Somehow it all escalated out of control, and before you could say Boo to a Goose, the whole place was covered in glaciers. A few million years later, when she’d slept off the effects of the gin, it was just beginning to thaw…”
“Dear old Jeanne, where is she now? I haven’t heard from her for…er, aeons.”
“Oh, she’s in fine fettle, got a job in The City you know. They say she’s quite something in The City these days, got quite a name for herself in Design & Communications.”
“Has she now! She’s done well for herself then, last I heard she was tiling kitchens in New Venice.”
Pig Littleton snorted. “Aunt Jeanne du Bappe, tiling in New Venice? Don’t be ridiculous, Liz, you’re getting your timelines in a twist. I expect that was one of her protegée’s, Aunt Jeanne’s been in The City for —well…”
Godfrey was uncharacteristically stumped.
Elizabeth wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to tease her old friend. “For how long?”
“For a very long Now”
“Well, I must say, that’s a fine thing isn’t it, to start an ice age and then bugger off to The City while everyone else freezes their tits off” said Elizabeth, blowing on her hands to warm them.
“You do realize, Liz dear, that every time you mention the word Cold, or Frozen, or Ice Age, you are increasing the potential of the Ice Age in the Probability Pool?”
“Godfrey, the Probability Pool has frozen over. We’ll be skating right over the top of it instead of dipping into it, if we don’t start a thaw soon!”
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Dory finished the puzzle, yawned and glanced at her watch. There was no sign of the flight to Long Pong leaving any time soon, so she made her flightbag into a pillow and settled herself along the plastic seating for a nap.
She dreamed first of her grandparents in their old house in Slurbridge. The house was the same, but her grandparents, Florence and Samuel, were much younger than she had ever known them during her lifetime. They were preparing for guests, and Florence was rearranging the bedding in the upstairs bedrooms. Apparently one more guest was expected than previously arranged, and she had squeezed in a single camp bed next to a double bed. Dory had an idea the camp bed was for Dan’s niece, Aurelia. Funny that, as Florence and Samuel had never known Aurelia ~ or Dan for that matter.
The dream landscape changed then to an island. The “Others” were coming and she and her friends had to hide. “Let’s hide in the pyramid” one of them had said, but Dory replied “No, we must hide somewhere less obvious, until we know what the “Others” are like.” They weren’t afraid, but they were taking precautions. Someone had been looking after the dogs and cats, but when Dory went to check on them, they had been ‘kept safe’ in a freezer. As Dory opened the door, a half frozen black cat emerged and ran off. “I reckon she’s better off taking her chances out there than in the freezer!” said Dory. At the bottom of the freezer were some frozen parts of Tom, Captain Bone. There was no sign of the others, but strangely, Dory wasn’t worried.
Next to the freezer was a cupboard, and Dory grabbed a handful of magnetic fridge letters, thinking that they would come in handy as clues while they were hiding from the “Others”.
“Yukailli Airlines direct flight leaving for Tikfijikoo Island at Gate 57 and three quarters” the bag lady prodded Dory, amidst a shower of electric blue sparks. “Wake up!”
In reply to: The Story So Far
The Wrick Saga
We become involved in the Wrick saga with the great-grand children of Lord (Hilarion) Wrick, living currently in Orkney Islands in 2057: India Louise and Cuthbert.
The family has a long intricate story, but roughly we know:- Margaret, first wife of Sean Wrick (unique son of Lord Wrick) died in a tragic accident somewhere in the past, and now Sean can talk to her most of the times.
- Sean has a penchant for strong spirits, but in an interesting twist of fate happens to meet and fall madly in love with older Becky (Vane), step-daughter of Dory, during the inauguration of the T.R.A.P. (transfocal reality attraction parc or something) in flooded New York (New Venice). They wed in a hurry (insert connection to Russia and old friends in the business of frozen reindeer meat) and plan a trip to Sri Lanka. Becky who has become pregnant from a “time-traveler” (Chris Robin) gives birth to her three first children, and seems to get cloned in a secret facility to pursue more noble ideals.
- Lord Wrick dies after getting reconciliated with his son Sean. His fortune is inherited by Cuthbert who seems reluctant to bear the charge. His sister India Louise is pregnant with a son from the traveling painter Bill Jobsworth who was painting the family portraits and was involved in some unusual experiences during his stay at the castle (mummies and stone heads)
- Later in the Wrick Saga, is born Midora, who gets the books from Cuthbert and India Louise and investigates them.
The books are thought to be energy deposits of this story, initially started in our timeline by Dory, Finn, Yann and Yurick. The story then was rediscovered by Becky, who initiated a Reality Play with her friends Tina, Sam and Al.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky wondered anxiously where this new twist in the reality play was going.
Frozen meat! I don’t like the sound of this at all…. 
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
In reply to: Rafaela’s Random Ramblings
Amanita muscaria intoxication typically produces macropsia, which means that the sense of scale is lost, and small objects can look many times their actual size….
Coincidentally, my photo blog is a bit macropsiac lately……
The above link provides clues to the ‘frozen reindeer meat’ surprise entry.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
There was a tantalizing scent of wildflowers and meadowgrass in the still cool air of the cave, and as Sanso rounded a bend in tunnel a gentle breeze ruffled the folds of his robes. He quickened his pace, gladdened by the welcome promise of an adventure outside of the endless labyrinth. The air felt cool and warm at the same time, and deliciously fresh and clean as it wafted towards him, and with a feeling of immense joy, he heard a snatch of birdsong.
It seemed like many long years that he’d been trudging around in the gloom and the stale air of the caves, although he suspected it wasn’t as long as that. Time played tricks on him, he knew that, while he was wandering around in the darkness. He’d missed Arona, and that strange baby, when he’d first set off alone again, but not for long. He knew when it was time to move on, and so he’d left them. From time to time he wondered if he’d encounter them again, and knew he would.
A shaft of sunlight spilled into the tunnel and Sanso stepped out into the light. The breeze was fluttering the birch leaves high above him, as he squinted up at the pale blue sky. Grinning happily, Sanso took his time adjusting to the light. He sat cross legged on the soft green grass, feeling it springy beneath his hands. Hundreds and thousands of red and yellow spotted toadstools stretched out as far as he could see, carpeting the forrest floor with polkadots of colour.
Sanso looked down at his hands. The creases of his skin and under his nails were engrained with reddish dust, and he wanted water more than anything, gurgling bubbling fresh clean water. He stood up, and shook his robes a bit, and set off into the woods.
Intuition told him which way to go to find water. He marvelled at tiny flowers, and scampering insects along the way, squashing fungi beneath his bare feet which oozed up through his toes with little squeaky noises.
A rabbit ran accross his path and stopped momentarily to stare at him and Sanso laughed out loud.
Oh! Who’s there?
A girl in bright flowered skirts was sitting on the grass in a clearing just ahead, rubbing her eyes.
Whoa, I must be dreaming, she said, and rubbed her eyes again. She peered at the apparition in indigo robes, with skin the colour of tobacco and wild matted hair. Am I dreaming? she asked Sanso.
Perhaps, perhaps not, replied Sanso, who wasn’t really sure. I may be dreaming myself. My name is Sanso, anyway, what’s yours?
Zhana, the girl replied, Well, Uncle Grishenka calls me Zhanochka, but I…but I….I hate him, and I’m not going back! And much to her surprise, she burst into tears.
Sanso was momentarily non-plussed, and wondered what to do next.
Well, dear, if you don’t want to go back, why, then don’t go back! He wasn’t quite sure what the problem was; after all, he’d been wandering for so many years on impulse and whim he hardly knew any other way to go about it.
I don’t know where to go instead though, Zhana said tearfully. The long dark cold will be here again soon, and I must have shelter somewhere…..who will have me, besides Uncle Grishenka?
What long dark cold? asked Sanso. It seemed light enough and warm enough here.
Oh, my! Zhana was astonished. You ask me what long dark cold? Where have you come from? How is it you don’t know of the long dark cold? Oh! Are you from Nishanti’s place?
Zhana stood up in some considerable excitement. Can you take me to Nishanti’s place? Oh please say yes!
Well, I, er, um…..well, I suppose so. Well, yes! Sanso didn’t want to let the girl down, although he wasn’t altogether sure he knew where Nishanti’s place was. But he was game to give it a try, and the company of the girl would be a welcome change.
Tell me about Nishanti, then, Zhana, and what her place is like. Sanso was hoping a few clues might ring a bell, perhaps.
Nishanti has been my friend for as long as I can remember, Zhana said. We dream together mostly, well, Zhana blushed, Uncle Grishenka says it’s all in my head…he say’s it’s nonsense….
Zhana squared her shoulders and carried on. Sanso had a kind look, and nodded encouragingly.
She hardly wears any clothes, and her skin is warm and brown. The sun always shines and the sky is always deep blue in her place and we play outside all year long. There’s always warm ripe fruits to eat, not turnips and noodles, colourful juicy berries and plump pink fishy things, and there are flowers all year long, and the water isn’t frozen, we can play in the water and it doesn’t turn our hands blue…..
Ah, the other side of the world…hhhmmm…..Sanso rubbed his whiskery chin thoughtfully.
Ok, I can’t promise we can find Nishanti, but I think we can find the other side of the world. But first, I’d like to find some water, and perhaps a little fresh food?
Zhana whooped with delight, and flung her arms around Sanso. Yes, yes!
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
She was swimming swiftly in the cold water of the frozen zone. Baaneke was quite young by her people standards. She was also quite adventurous though inexperienced. Very curious about the beings of the other side, those who had chosen to dwell on the dry parts of this world. She was quite amused at their clumsiness whenever they fell in the ocean.
She was aware of her flock in the distance. The clarity of the water, its coldness made the clicks and the clacks even sharper. Their language had many subtleties and it was fluctuating with the vibrational quality of the waters in which they were generated. The further you were from the source, the more distorted it could be. Though it was quite precise and with some experience it was easy to focus on the energy and not the translation into sounds. But Baaneke wasn’t so easy peasy with this focus.
Her long body was rather slim and her color was smorgle barnished sand. She was very proud of it, and found herself quite attractive. The young male were often brömding at her… a bit rude, but she was feeling a huge satisfaction
She’d been following the strange floating structures for a few days now. The ancients called them : “sshiieap”.
She was fascinated by the beings on it… they were so awkward and it seemed to her they took great care of not diving into the waters… How odd of them, it was so easy moving in there, more easy than outside where it was so dry and windy.She was aware of some signal in one of the shiieap, and she was curious about it. It was quite familiar to her.
