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  • #734

    That’s when she heard a little voice… not really in her head, the voice was like coming from under the space tissue.

    Dear RATS… Thou canst do it thyself. Let the power of the Snooshrooms flow through thy skin.

    — Who’s there? asked Becky anxiously… is it the Snoot? What are the smooshnools? I don’t want any more skin problem, don’t do anything!!!

    Becky was feeling a bit drowsy again. She was tired of sleeping though and managed to get rid of this feeling.

    She got startled by her cell phone, it was vibrating furiously now… oh no, just a picture message from Sam.

    https://www.northrup.org/Photos/Kangaroo/low/kangaroo-laying8.jpg

    With that distraction she lost grip of herself for a few seconds… and when she woke up she was feeling her head like heavy… how god!!!! what the f…

    #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.

    #2114

    In reply to: Snooteries

    The SnootThe Snoot
    Participant

      Dear Balls

      The Snoot is giving you this link to a balancing material of this earth .
      Thou canst use it to cleanse thy inner being as it is well atuned to the vibration of the freeflow of your inner organs.
      Thou canst also apply it on your face and appreciate the softness of thy being, though thou wilst never have as soft a skin as the liquid fur of the Snoot ;;)

      The Grreeen Sn :yahoo_sick: :yahoo_sick: t

      #690

      Sitting at her desk, Alana couldn’t focus on the document she was reading. A report from one of her companies. She could feel the energy of that French guy Langlade. He was sent by the Baron, and she knew he was dangerous. She was expecting him this morning, and it was almost 5pm. Well she was a bit overwhelmed because of what was at stake. She couldn’t allow him to take it. She couldn’t allow the Baron to use it. And she couldn’t destroy it either.

      For the moment the crystal skull wasn’t here. She was aware that Langlade knew it. Though it was not for the reason he could imagine. And she wouldn’t reveal it to him… freely.

      She called Mr Isashi. She couldn’t put it off eternally.

      — Allow him in, Mr Isashi. Though take your time.

      — Very well, Aunt.

      — Is Harry here?

      — Not yet, Aunt. Do you want me to summon him?

      — No. Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t show up.

      He looked at her furtively, and she smiled back at him. Her fear well hidden under a dose of confidence. She would never allow it to happen.

      :fleuron:

      Robert was waiting in the living room. He was lounging on a golden couch when the man came back and told him she would receive him. At last…

      Well he was not in a hurry. He was patient, and so was the Baron… for now. And apparently he was to need a lot of patience.
      The pace of the Japanese boy was slow, and he wouldn’t allow him to speed up. Apparently she was nervous and wanted him to feel so.

      The corridor was well lit. Richly decorated with paintings or statues.
      He had to admit she had a refined taste.

      They stopped before a yellow door. The boy knocked 3 times and Robert could hear that the wood was very heavy. As he opened the door, they could hear a masculine voice.

      — You may need my skills.

      :fleuron:

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

      #683

      The landscape had become oddly unfamiliar to Franiel. He had walked this path to the Village at the foot of the mountains maybe a half a dozen times, yet he felt certain he had never before seen these surroundings. He had never seen this patch of bright yellow flowers with their golden centers, nor this gnarled tree whose branches dropped down over the path causing Franiel to stoop in order to pass by. He stopped, hesitating, should he return the way he had come, find where he had left the path? Yet even while his mind was telling him what he was seeing should not be, he knew in his heart that he had taken no wrong turning. He touched the trunk of the old tree, and asking for wisdom, felt it’s reassuring energy calm his anxiety. The way ahead, though unexpected, felt friendly.

      As fate would have it he had not journeyed much further when he spied a fellow traveler coming towards him on the path ahead, a small figure swathed in colourful robes, wild and dishevelled locks of hair protruding exuberantly from beneath his brown leather cap.

      Greetings Fellow Traveler, cried out Franiel as he drew nearer, My name is Franiel. I am travelling from the Monastery of Margilonia to the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon, and foolishly I appear to have mislaid my way.

      The stranger chuckled merrily. Greetings Franiel, Indeed If that is your destination then I fear perhaps you are more lost than you care to admit. He motioned towards the grassy bank at the side of the path. Perhaps we might sit awhile and talk, for I know that I for one, could do with a rest and bite to eat.

      A splendid idea, replied Franiel, sensing magic in the stranger and enjoying immensely the unexpected diversion.

      So my friend you are a long way from the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon.

      Am I indeed? mused Franiel, How could that be, for that was where I was heading, and as far as I know I did not step from the path, and yet here I am.

      The stranger chuckled again, and his laughter was so infectious that Franiel joined in, not really being able to identify the source of the amusement, yet feeling all the better for it.

      And how important is it that you get to the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon?

      I am on a mission from Aum Geog, the newly appointed Abbot, replied Franiel, as he pulled out the chalice from his pack, to have this cup inscribed.

      The stranger reached out for the chalice, and studied it intently for a few moments. He took some of the water from his own water bottle and poured it into the chalice. Muttering a few words which Franiel did not recognise, the stranger closed his eyes and held the cup up as though offering it to the Gods. After a few moments he took a sip from the chalice. A look of delight crossed his face, As I thought! he chuckled.

      Now drink, my friend, he said offering the chalice back to Franiel.

      This is the sweetest Nectar you carry in your bottle ! Franiel exclaimed in surprise after taking some sips.

      The stranger chortled, It was plain water from the river I passed on my travels. I gather from your surprise that you do not know the magic of this chalice?

      Franiel shook his head. Well to be honest I have not really given the chalice much consideration, only to briefly wonder at my task. My mind has been more occupied with other matters. Franiel looked at the chalice in his hands, And what more can you tell me of this magic?

      I can caution you to be wary my friend, I would not be so quick to show strangers you meet on your path this cup, for be assured there would be some who would be keen to possess this. He frowned for a moment. What are the words which are to be inscribed on this chalice?

      Franiel pulled the sealed letter from his pack, and, feeling only a moment’s hesitation, opened it; “Bibere venenum in argento”, he read haltingly, then shrugged. I confess I don’t know what that means, I have not been taught in the old language.

      It is a curse of the Ancients, it means “drink poison from a cup of silver”. Seeing the puzzled look on Franiel’s face the stranger went on to explain. The magic of the chalice is to transform. I uttered words of love and the water transformed to sweet nectar. Had I whipered words of hate and fear, had my intention been to kill, I could have changed the water to bitter poison. The power though is not in the chalice, it is in the intention of the one who holds it and who knows of it’s magic.

      Franiel shook his head, bewildered, I can find no sense in this. Why would Aum Geog curse the cup in this way?

      The stranger turned and looked at Franiel, his clear blue gaze piercing and direct, I don’t know this Aum Geog, neither do I know his heart …. I know that you are the bearer of the cup now Franiel. Make sure you are asking the right questions.

      #667

      Number Four was dreaming, at least it was what he was feeling. The quality of his vision was blurred and he couldn’t really focus on details. He was in a dark room with another man. Despite the darkness, he could clearly see that the man was very pale. There was a third man, mad eyes and hysterical laugh, and a woman.

      The man mad was speaking and assigning them a mission. It was about… skulls? Crystal skulls :yahoo_idk:

      All of a sudden his hearing was crystal clear. He had heard the name of the woman… Carla… He was asking her to go and find a Viscountess, find the skull…

      Then he turned to the pale man.

      Robert, my dear Robber, hinhinhin! I trust you with the Hawaiian witch. Be careful she’s dangerous and very powerful. Don’t misjudge her words or her deeds. Never accept anything, be it food or liquid. Don’t let them touch you either. But I know you already know that. hinhinhin!!!”

      His horse-like laugh was unnerving, and Number Four was so excited, maybe he could learn his own name… why was it so slow!? He was looking at the Baron, watching him laugh showing his immense teeth and gum! Number Four almost lost his grip to the dream imagery.

      Breathe he told himself
      Breathe… Yes, Breathe deeply, YES, YES
      The Baron had finished laughing and was smiling like a vulture.

      When he turned his face toward Number Four, his eyes were swirling like hell, blazing hot red light…

      “My dear one 8-}, to you I trust the most difficult one… My old mad friend on his foolish Island. He has a foolish project, and you’ll serve as a guinea pig…”

      Number Four felt a strong twinge, his dream eye was blinking out of control.
      The Baron’s voice was thunderous and other dimensional.

      hinhinhin! My dear Claude……………………”

      The sound of his name was enough, enough of this insanity… all his memory was accessible now, and he began to feel the rage gather inside of him.

      He was fully awake now. He was in the middle of a nest, several birds were crying around, trying to raise the alarm.
      He gathered his will and released it at once in a fury.

      #659

      Where is your bloody friend?

      Armando was muttering again, growing impatient and agitated he couldn’t appreciate stillness. He was “so busy” as he was pleased to remind his friend. Sam was rather amused and held his friend in great affection. But at times it could be very irritating.

      We’re going to be late. I have another appointment in 2 hours, and it is in Boston. Not that my new car can’t do that…

      He looked at Sam, waiting some kind of approbation or validation, maybe was he looking for awe. But Sam wasn’t impressed at all. He could be in Boston and in Botswana at the same time… well not yet physically in both but he was getting better at it. It was not so important now to be all physically focused in one place and time… or rather to block the recognition of the other places and times one was focusing on. Well he was lost in his thoughts, waiting for Becky.

      It’s quite… Yellow , Al said in a neutral voice.

      Armando seemed satisfied with this answer. Maybe the answer itself wasn’t important, he had been acknowledged, he was influencing his environment… Looking at Al, Sam smiled with a ;)

      I told you, Armando is not yet familiarized with telepathy.

      Yeah, it is quite useful not to be noticed. Though I really wonder what Becky is doing, we still have to give Tina a lift. She’s learning to declaim lyric poetry, she fancies her teacher, you know…

      Sam couldn’t help but laugh at the image Al had conveyed to him.

      What? You think I can’t do it with my new car?

      Sam had no idea of what Armando was talking about. Since he had bought this new gadget, he only had one thread of converstation available. Though Becky and Tina were quite eager to try this new technological progress. Becky almost fell into Canal Street’s dark water last time she went to see her friend Yang Tsung, her Chinese herborist, in a gondocab. She was looking for some hair growing potion, and she left with some new preparation to help her regain her balance.

      Becky was late, and it was quite unusual… well most of the time she was not. :-?
      Sam and Al joined their thoughts and opened themselves to her energy, all they could grasp was about some nine tailed fox, and Chumpy… was she trying to mate her Chumpy with one of those new fancy pet breed?
      A few minutes later, she was jumping from a gondocab to the yellow flying car.

      Sorry I’m late… you know I was at this new “Rent’a Pet Shop, Boy!”, it’s fantastic the variety of old and new breeds they have. A poor girl was looking for a parrot or a magpie… so common, hopefully she would follow my advice and take one of those nine-tailed glowing fox.

      Her gaze was distant for a few seconds and Chumpy was protesting at how she was holding him.

      Well it matters not as you know. Chumpy don’t be rude to mama! She sat and grinned voraciously, looking a bit worried. When are we going? We’ll be late to meet Tina!

      Armando was gaping at her, and decided he would rather not argue with her. It was his first time with her and he already had categorized her.

      :fleuron:

      All 3 were sitting on the rear of the car, while Armando was driving, focused on his new toy, trying not to make them all crash on one of the emerging towers of Manhattan Water Town. Sam was telling his friends about a dream he had last night and that seemed quite important. At least it was the only one of the night he could remember.

      How unusual of you, Becky said, you should meet Yang Tsung, his herbs are quite efficient, he’s got weeds for anything…

      They lost her for a few seconds again, and Al looked at Sam, encouraging him to continue with his dream. Sam attention was splitted between Becky’s strong energy and the concentration of Armando who was not so confident in his ability to drive the flyellow car after all.

      Well, as I told you it was about new focuses of Al and I, they were journalists…

      Journalists? Like my friend Bonny! Did I tell you about her last crush? She fancies a future focus of her mother. He’s called Moht and lives 200years ahead from now. She goes and meets him in her dreams mostly, but she’s practicing with rendering more real during her… She stopped speaking, looking a bit confused

      Al laughed heartily, Sam was still and seemed to listen so carefully to what she was saying, that it was comic.

      Continue Sam, journalists then?.., she said, stroking Chumpy distractedly.

      Journalists yes, and they were creating a relationship similar to Starsky and Hutch. They were attending a meeting, though I don’t remember what it was all about. All I know is that Al and I were time-travelling, and we happened to meet them at that moment. I don’t know how we knew that the conference would be the target of a terrorist group, but we were there to warn them. We were talking with my focus, Simeon, as Andre, the focus of Al was already in the conference room. It was an international conference and the bomb would cause many death among political personalities, scientists, writers and so on… Well my focus thanked us for the warning but also told me that they had their lot of fun and mischiefs in their lives and that they were ready to disengage.

      Wow! I have a synch with that. I think I was one of the Indian woman there, maybe a minister or similar? You know what? We’re planning to go to Madagascar with Sean for our honey moon :D

      Great! answered Al and Sam in unison.

      We’re at the Opera, Armando said, Is it your friend who looks so furious?

      #644

      Back in the depths of the water, Aglaë was thinking of a way for her to move easily on the other world.

      There was a legend of her people, a legend which was told to the children. It promised pain and an accursed half-life to those trying to disown their heritage, and live outside of the life-sustaining element of water.
      For most of the children, such an idea was incongruous at best, and none would have thought of breaching the taboo simply to try something different and potentially lethal.
      But to Aglaë, all that it meant now was that such a thing was possible.
      In that legend she had been told when she was young, there was a prince, who betrayed his people, and was condemned to an exile outside of the oceans. So that he would not die an immediate and atrocious death on the dry surface, but rather suffer even more, by not being able to come back to the depths, he was given a mixture of plants to ingest. A deadly algae which grew in the cemeteries of the Holders of Dreams, on the carcasses of the Wise Ones, mixed with an herb from the lands.

      Aglaë did not know how and where to gather the plants… She was hesitant to do such a thing, for it would surely infuriate her father… But she was willing to do it. She would have to find a naïve ally to help her in her task, because she was seeing her half-brother Pelorus becoming suspicious and she did not want to have him discover her plans before she could realise them.
      Pelorus was very close to their father, who had made him Captain of the Tritonic Guard. Though he was not having a slithery serpentine tail like her own, he was very agile and swift in the waters with his tentacles, and was very respected, as he had a reassuring presence, radiating might and power.

      #641

      AN EXCHANGE WHICH TAKES PLACE ON THE STREETS OF LONDON DURING THE REIGN OF QUEEN VICTORIA:

      ‘Ere!, I saw you take that.

      Let go of me, I didn’t do nothing.

      I aint blind and I aint stupid, lad. I saw you put your thieving hand in this ladies handbag. Now what you got?

      Nothing. Just this coin. It’s for me mam, she’s at home poorly, dying, and we aint got no food. ‘Ere, take it. it won’t happen again.

      You’re right it won’t happen again because you’ll be going to the gallows I’ll be bound. I know your face. You’re one of them Magpies. I’ve ‘ad my eye on you for some time. You’re clever at covering tracks I’ll grant you that, but not clever enough it seems.

      Look Mr Constable, I don’t know nothing about no magpies, they thieving birds aint they? It was for me poor old mam, I swear to God, if I be lying may ‘e strike me down dead.

      No more blasphemy from you. I expect the good Lord’s got better things to do than spend his time striking down lying thieves. Thing is you’ve been been caught thieving from this lady and it’s not looking too good for you right now.

      And I will thank you Ma’am for your courageous co-operation. said Constable Marshall O’Riley, turning galantly to the finely dressed woman, clutching her handbag tightly to her person. You have been victim of a heinous crime, and I would wish to trouble your gentle self no more with this matter. But I will thank you for your details and be assured I shall call upon you should we need you to give further evidence.

      No sooner had the lady gone than Constable O’Riley turned to the young thief.

      Now you listen to me carefully, young lad. I have an idea that, if you play your hand right, might save you from hanging.

      I’m listening.

      You and me is not two figures to be seen together, except for somewhere private. I want you to talk to the one what leads your little gang. I have an idea that could be of mutual benefit. I will let you go now, and you be here tomorrow same time, and I will tell you where the meeting will be held. I’ve ‘ad my eyes on your gang for quite some time, all I needed to convict you was to catch you red ‘anded, and I got that now. So If you ain’t here, I know where to find you lot, and I swear I’ll drag you in front of the magistrate. Do as I say though and we could all be laughing.

      #632

      The movements of the marmoset were swifts and effortless. The creature was moving through space and not in the jungle. That Kay was another expression of consciousness. It was not a creature, it was not of essence. They had not recognized its nature as quickly as they could have if it wasn’t merged so intimately with that focus of Blöhmul. The little mass event of this pursuit was tremendously fun, and they were all getting closer to Anita. The aspects of the 4 essences still focused with her were still. She had just awaken from her last dream with her parents. And was telling it to Yuki and Armelle. The Lynx was sleeping on a rock outside, enjoying the warm feeling of the sun on its fur, and the Goat was busy eating the grass around the camp so no creature or human could hide and sneak around without being noticed. Armelle hooted with amusement. They all reintegrated the aspects they had put together to create that marmoset.

      It reached its hand to grasp an borgulm fruit from the upper branch of the borgulm tree. The Snoot was quite fond of these juicy and intermediate fruits. They were always containing alcohol to various degrees, never the same. They were quite colorful also, many shades that you would discover only when opening them. And the Snoot liked to be surprised. The juice was coloring its liquid fur as soon as it had been absorbed. The Snoot had usually no name. They were quite solitary creatures. Expressions of different aspects of consciousness from an ancient civilization, as some would tell you. The Snoot noticed some alteration of the air. Different elements of the whole were coming… they felt quite different from what it was accustomed to. A strong curiosity motivated the Snoot which was altering his liquid fur and becoming translucent, transparent, almost invisible, and it began to focus on these strange arrangements of consciousness that were so noisy.

      :fleuron:

      Kay saw the marmoset disappear just before they reached a clearing where a Lynx was sleeping and yet not sleeping, a Goat was eating the grass and esthetically shaping the clearing, and inside a hidden bubble were an Owl and a Rabbit that seemingly were listening to a little girl giggling and babbling.

      #628

      Chris, I demand you tell me what’s going on! What was that … that thing! Nurse Bellamy was visibly upset, her cheeks flushed, her voice tremulous. She had no idea what had just happened, but she suspected that even coconut milk might not make it better this time.

      Are you going to tell her or do I have to do it? asked Veranassessee. Because if you can pull yourself together I have a couple of guests locked in a closet, and now a mummy on the run to deal with! It had been a tiring day and Veranassessee was furious.

      V’ass what’s going on, Chris, will someone please tell me ….!

      I will tell her Veranassessee. Dr Bronkelhampton slumped in his chair and wondered where to start. A plan was beginning to form in his head. V’ass had always said Nurse Bellamy should be told the truth, now it seems that, as usual, she was right. But of course, he smiled to himself, as Dr Lemane, his erudite Professor at medical school had always said, there are many sniggly variations of one truth. Well, it was something along those lines he said anyway.

      :fleuron2:

      Oh this is the bees knees! what do you reckon about this room then Sha? Do you think the treatment has started?

      Perhaps it is special beauty air in here. It smells different don’t it?

      They both breathed deeply. Oh Yes, Yes, YES! giggled Glor

      Sha?

      Yes?

      It’s a bit odd though don’t you think? I mean nothing like what I was thinking.

      :fleuron2:

      The mummy headed towards the dense bush, her brain was foggy but she knew she had to find cover. Her limbs felt heavy. Keep going, just keep going …

      :fleuron2:

      Nurse Bellamy could not stop crying. Oh Chris … oh you poor man. I always thought there was something odd about Veranassessee. Oh what shall we do my darling, she must be stopped!

      Quite right, she must my little poppet, soothed Dr Bronkelhampton, stroking Nurse Bellamy’s hair gently, and thinking quickly. But for now, keep it to yourself. It is a very delicate matter. Can you do that my sweet one? Just for me?

      Oh yes Chris! whatever you think best my my darling.

      #619

      Home, at last… Bernie Eleonara Mynd, Viscountess of Shropshire sighed, dropping her hairy salmon coloured hermine fur coat to the butler.
      Now, leave me alone Vigor, I don’t want to be disturbed.
      Madam, Vigor bowed deferentially

      A smoking teapot of fine herb tea was prepared on the glass coffee table just near a black silk pouch. With a greedy look on her face, she untied voraciously the pouch to reveal the crystal skull she had just acquired.
      After a few seconds of beholding the priceless possession, she lifted the teapot lid with a stiff face which eventually smiled blissfully at the smell of the fine Earl Fuchsia crop which was infusing.

      Good Lord, that trip was exhausting!… she growled in a very deep voiced that suddenly sounded more male than before.
      Didn’t know I had to go as far as Spain to get that darn skull!

      Bernie suddenly ripped her fine chignon from her head, revealing a bald head with a few short black hair on the top. She spitted her false teeth, peeled off some wrinkled patches of latex skin, smeared the mascara around her globular eyes and scratched her crotch…

      A ruffled sound and a “mmm mmm” suddenly caught her attention off the itchy body parts.

      She went to the cupboard, drew a key dangling from a necklace deeply buried inside her ample bosom, then stopped for a moment, and muttered a “bugger” before unbuttoning her tight blouse and removing the corset that was constraining her breath.
      Smiling wickedly, she proceeded to open the cupboard, but recoiled at a pale tied and muzzled figure who looked much similar to whoever she was impersonating.

      Oh, Lordy, what a stench! There’s no point in making such a fuss Viscountess, this will soon be over… I just needed a few things, and will soon be off, tonight to be precise…

      The pale figure whined with pleading eyes.

      Oh, just don’t make these eyes at me…

      Bugger! I can’t bother with her now, she said to herself, closing the cupboard’s door oblivious to the plaintiff whines. Now, got to move on real quick, before they realize something was wrong with the transaction.

      :fleuron:

      Juan had insisted that they all spent Christmas together before Paqui and Joselito went for their trip. He felt that there was more to this trip that he could grasp, and wanted to share these precious moments now, not wanting to live on regrets.
      Now, the new year was here, and he was alone. At least, he’d been more than glad to see Claudio move out. It had all been a lot easier than he’d thought at first. Obviously, when Paquita had said to that maggot that she was going to accompany Joselito to his trip on the whachaname-Kikkoo Island, Claudio had been outraged, probably thinking a good playing victim act would soon make things right for him.
      But he’d been wrong altogether. It was not about love for him or the other. It was all about freedom and being what she wanted. And emotional blackmail very quickly proved besides the point.
      His father had been proud at Paquita. Her decision obviously was made, and it had been the first time he had seen the frail girl unwavering at the arguments.

      The situation had soon proved unbearable for Claudio, who had no longer any reason for hanging around Juan and Paqui’s house, and one day he’d moved out, rather discreetly, not to be heard again. Somehow, Juan was aware of the town’s gossips, that he had acquired some unexpected sum of money, not sure if all very legally, but the thing was that he had decided to take his chances by going some said to Nicaragua, others to Brazil or even to the US…
      But who really cared?

      :fleuron:

      On his plane for Valparaiso, Claudio was looking at the letter he’d found in the family trunk. It was a brief correspondence between his grand-father and a certain Cillian Mc Gaughran, and it was linked to the skull he had sold such a handsome price. Perhaps he could get more information about them, if the recluse old man was still alive, that is…

      #592

      Outside the apartment, the sky was a pale grey, with some delicate hues of more silvered clouds of smoke spewed out by the brick and concrete chimneys. Winter time was a few degrees warmer in the big city than in the countryside, on most of the scales he could think of: temperature, decibels at least,… and certainly a few others he didn’t know of.

      Yurick (or Quintin as he was still known) was spending some time at his friend Gustav ’s place, Gustav having moved a while ago from Vienna to Paris, for a new job opportunity in the gaming industry. Gustav was living for a large part in a fantasy world full of trolls, ogres, thieves, demonists and other creatures, which made his conversations always fascinating. It was like he could get his own information about some shifty aspects in consciousness, and they were translated rather undistortedly through these fantasy adventures.

      To Yurick, Paris felt almost less familiar than these other dimensional worlds, and bearably less colourful. But when he’d come back the day before, he had found not much changed, and the ambivalence he felt towards Paris wasn’t a stark dislike, as he could have felt some months before. Furthermore, as he was becoming closer to Yann, colours were coming back into his perception of that odd reality.

      And it seemed that Yurick was developing an uncanny propensity to see 23 or 53 each time he looked up at the clock. Making him wonder if that could have any use at all ;)).

      #589

      As he layed on the purple sand, she placed one hand on her heart and her other hand on his heart. She closed her eyes and began to sing.
      A golden hue began to emanate, with touches of pale emerald green. With her touch she relayed in energy, that she would assist him to fully awaken.
      She would do this, with the pure love she contained within her heart. For she knew no different.
      She was about to embark upon a journey, that she knew would take her away from her existing family. Momentarily.
      She also knew, that all was well, as she would bridge the two worlds together.
      Her father would be furious, but her heart would win him over. She knew this :)

      As he slept, she went for a much required swim.
      She had to find a way, to stay on the surface longer, without such discomfort.
      Not being in the water, had her feeling so dry, all over, including her throat.
      She swam and swam, swirled around, and then, she heard her father calling her name………………

      #1851
      bridgybridgy
      Participant

        Hi Jib and All ..i am following your shared links for to know more about the yellow princess…
        now i am here at page 1 of 8 .. and am curious as ..what ? :-) where i find page 2 – – – – > 3 – – – >4 – — – >5
        or i impression this number is the space at this page fort he further story unfolding (?)
        oky let me know that and also if there is a link to feeds(for to see when updated) .. and is that the story you alone create or is it allowed to make entries .
        sigh … :-) ! at least i am happy to be here now !
        by :games:

        good night to all, :heart: bridgy

        #565
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          It had been a long trip home, and Dory was glad the journey was over. She sat on the patio in the warm winter sunshine, surrounded by affectionate wet doggy noses who prodded her arm, making her slop her fresh squeezed orange juice. The birds twittered and screeched in the lemon and olive trees. She closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure. Home!

          The screeching turned into a long drawn out yowl, and it was a moment or two before Dory realized that monkey Charlie had rounded up a gang of his canine buddies for another cat mauling expedition down at the bottom of the garden. Dory leapt to her feet and ran down the cobbled path, shrieking at the dogs to stop. She rescued the limp and traumatized, but thankfully unhurt cat, and wondered again what she was reflecting to herself every time her dogs ganged up on one of her cats.

          Shaking slightly, she sat down again in the patio chair, cradling the wide eyed cat, her fur standing in sticky peaks of dog saliva. Dory had stroked the fur smooth, and relaxed. Home! It was great to be home.

          #550

          Alarmed by the sound of the explosion, Mrs Butterbutt rushed out of her office.

          What the hell are they doing again? If it’s these dirty sons of …

          She censored her thought as she was about to burst out in anger, she was so focused on that prout farting Mc Gaughran that as she opened the door of the main room, her face was that of a fury…. but as soon as she saw what had happened, she heard the laugh of Little Joe followed by all the drunkards and the sissy cow boys of that town. Her loud laugh soon joined with the others… she managed to calm down and talked to the juicy Aldous.

          — Oh you’re going to pay for all that mess, behave Mc Gaugran, you could have refrained from shitting on you!

          She couldn’t help but burst into laughter again.

          #506

          Beattie and Leonora had finished unpacking their belongings, and had rearranged the meager furnishings of the little white washed cottage. There was one item as yet unpacked: a sturdy wooden crate.

          What are we going to do with them, Bea?

          Hmmm? Beattie looked up from the computer. Oh, the bloody skulls. Well, not on the mantelpiece that’s for sure! We’ll have to hide them again. How about in the old bread oven outside?

          There’s an idea, replied Leonora. Give us a hand then, Bea

          But Beattie was busy tapping away at the keyboard. Well, what a coincidence! she cackled, turning round to face Leo. Bert’s found another one!

          #502

          Madame Butterbutt, the saloon landlady and iconic colourful figure, came back to her room in a fury.
          She was living above the saloon, in a large room tastefully furnished, with some exuberant objects that she had gathered from her many commercial acquaintances.

          She took one of her favourite cigarillos to calm her down.
          That Mc Gaughran was such a… she wasn’t at loss for words. But none of them would have been strong or decent enough for the dork that he was. Ooops she smiled, this last one had almost slipped out unnoticed.

          Unlike many people in that small town of San Demangelo, she wasn’t fearful of the man. Not of the man himself (she was almost a giantess compared to many women), and certainly not of his threats either, even though she knew what the man was capable of.
          She knew well many of his shady tricks, but she also knew things about him that most of the time sufficed to keep him quiet and docile.

          Today, she would have almost laughed at him when he had tried to pressure her by threatening to reveal to sheriff Ted Marshall her little trafficking of hallucinogenic toads. Pathetic of him.
          That was really nothing, a little commerce she had with some remote part of her family in Guatemala, especially the voodoo witch Nana Del Conda. These were regularly brought to her by the old ambulant quack Myrlin who was selling all sorts of hocus pocus remedies, keeping the potent ones for Madame Butterbutt.

          So nothing extraordinary about that… No,… what had brought her in that terrible mood was when the hoity-toity, pompous, arrogant, full of himself f*ckhead, oops she bit her lip again… When that jelly belly mugger had tried to coerce her into pushing the little Twi into his bed.
          Repugnant.

          When that foolhardy brother El Disperso is storming again into the bar to try to find quarrel and provoke the jelly pig into a brawl, she would perhaps let him have it his own way after all.
          Last time her loath of firearms had been directed strongly against the young boy, perhaps also to protect him too… Anyway, he was perhaps right, allowing himself to “float downstream”, from the hate to the anger… and perhaps to hope and joy again.
          She started to sound like dear ol’ Abe…

          #468

          Yann had been gloomy for a few days. Actually it was not really gloomy, his mood was changing quite quickly and he’d had hard times to follow himself. He didn’t want to impose his mood on his friends and even with Yurick it had been up and down. Nothing to worry about, he thought. He’d been told by Malika it was a clearing of sort, old aspects to let go, they had served their purpose and it was time he accepted the change in himself.

          It was easier said than really done. Last Sunday he felt he was “fragmenting”, he felt part of himself gather and do something he couldn’t really define, he felt like they were moving their own way, leaving for their own exploration… but he had still the experience of it. And in the following days he could feel that he could easily tap into these aspects when he wanted to.

          The other unusual thing that happened was that he was feeling many inputs from many sources he couldn’t always define. Most of the time he could associate easily a face or a situation, at the beginning it was still singularly focused. The more he allowed that, the more multi-layered it became, it was blending with stories of sort, different aspects of himself he felt, and also aspects of his friends or of perfectly unknown people. Some could be translated as famous individuals, some as homeless people, some as future and some as pasts… and the weirdest was that there were not one version of each, though he was in a way more inclined to focus on one of them… there was a theme behind all that… He hadn’t found it yet though.

          He was feeling like evolving in a sticky atmosphere and he could fill it with his fears, so they could express, but the stickiness of this energy was in a way holding them tightly and he had difficulties to let go of these fears. Fears to be abandoned, fears to be less than, to be uninteresting or just not as interesting as… well all that was about comparison and self worth, he was feeling that it was not about the whole of himself, it was particular aspects still holding to these separations from himself. He was feeling he was to accept that in order to let go of this separation. But the non separation was also frightening him because he was frightened by the vastness of his being, the vastness of the connections he was feeling… “and what if I loose my beloved Yurick in the process?” he thought. Couldn’t he just trust himself that he would always be connected to his friend, because that was what he wanted?

          He looked at his cat Arona. She seemed far from all those concerns, and he noticed she was purring more strongly than usual. He smiggled… hahaha, what a funny word. He stroked her fur and she moved her body with grace and abandon, how lovely of her to allow such an openness and such trust that it is safe and pleasurable.

          He smiled broadly and stroked her belly, full of this joyous and wondrous feeling of love of himself. He felt how it was radiating from him to all his friends and all beings.

          :yahoo_love_struck:

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