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  • #2328

    Ann spent the morning (or a mere half hour, if truth be told) enjoying her physicality in the gentle autumn morning sun before returning indoors. The drop in temperature was still new enough to remember to appreciate fully. She felt at peace with her world, a happy balance of words and sunbeams, that is until she perused the latest additions to the BA (Bash Ann, by the looks of things) group project.

    Ann frowned. Who the heck was Harvey? It was almost the last straw, despite Ann’s sunny mood. The very idea of trawling back through the paperwork to find out who he was, and indeed who everyone else was, was too daunting. “If it’s not fun don’t do it!” That’s what they all said. Over and over again they said “if it’s not fun don’t do it”.

    The writing was fun, and the random reading was fun, but it wasn’t fun ~ in fact, it gave her a headache ~ to try and remember who and when and where everyone was. Perplexed, Ann wondered if she simply wasn’t cut out for working in a group. On the other hand, she simply wasn’t a loner either.

    “Be remebering,” the disembodied voice whispered in her left ear, “That they are all YOU.”

    Oh! Right, yes….herm….well where does that leave me?

    “Right at the centre of it all, as always,” the voice replied.

    Er, so it’s all MY story, then? The whole thing is all me, all mine? All the characters are ME?

    “Quite!”

    So I can do whatever I want, then?

    “Of course!”

    Right then, so I can write whatever I want, which is fun, and not write what I don’t want, which isn’t fun, and that will be quite alright, will it?

    “Correct!” the voice chuckled indulgently. “And it may behoove you” it continued in a conspiratorial tone, “To remember than any flak from the others in the group, is in fact, YOU giving YOURSELF a flakking reflection.”

    Oh. Well Right Ho, then. Toot! Toot!

    #2612

    In reply to: Strings of Nines

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      “The dancing class is tomorrow, are you getting the days muddled up again, dear?” Becky gently reminded Tina. “Today is Rhymes Day”

      #2554

      In reply to: Strings of Nines

      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Godfrey” Ann said gently in dulcet tones “I realize that you’re tetchy with that flooh, but I simply don’t screech, you know.” Ann smiled at him fondly, more than willing to forgive his rudeness. “Perhaps the flooh has affected your ears?”

        “Oh bugger off will you Ann, and please stop that caterwauling!” Godfrey covered his ears, flinching.

        “Oh dear, it must be the dreaded Pigs Ear Virus! Fear not, me old matey, I know just the cure!”

        #2547

        In reply to: Strings of Nines

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Ann wasn’t altogether sure what Godfrey meant when he referred to her new interest in continuity. Ann had always been interested in connecting links, yes, of that there was no doubt, but with so very many connecting links, and so many possible strings of connecting links, with so many possible divergences into yet more strings of connecting links, Ann really couldn’t fathom how anyone could possibly keep track of all those threads of continuity. Even a seemingly discontinuous assortment of unconnected links, once connected into a nonsense thread, became another continuity string. Furthermore, Ann continued ~ in a continuous fashion ~ to ponder, if everything is connected, then what, in actuality, was all the fuss about continuity? What exactly then WAS this concept of continuity? It seemed to Ann to be more like a string of barbed wire, or one of those flimsy but effective electric wire fences, boxing in the free flow of continuity, so that the objectively perceived continuity stayed rigidly within the confines of the preconceived tale. The inner landscape knew no such boundaries, although admittedly the inner landscape was far too vast to map.

          Ann smiled to herself as she imagined trying to push pins into various inner landscape locations, tying strings from one to another, in an effort to map and label the inner continuity connections. Of course she was imagining it in a visual manner, because it was hard to imagine all those connections and strings being invisible and not taking up any space, and before long Ann’s inner map of pins and strings quickly resembled a tangle of overcooked spaghetti, perilously speckled with sharp pointy pins.

          The image of the glutinous tangle dotted with sharp shiny pointers led Ann off on another tangent, but it was a tangent that soon became utter nonsense. Or was it, she mused. Perhaps it was those symbolically sharp pointy bits that in fact pointed out the immense variety of potential other continuity threads to choose from. Indeed, it could easily be said that having one of her characters dumped in Siberia in the previous story, painful though it was, was not unlike being pricked by a pin amidst the tangle of sticky pasta, a brilliantly effective pointer towards unlimited new directions.

          Whichever way she looked at it (and Ann was aware that she might have gone down a side string) she simply couldn’t comprehend how anyone on this side of the veil could possibly even begin to understand the ramifications of the concept of continuity at all. Or how there could ever conceivably be a lack of it.

          What was really intriguing Ann at this particular juncture of the experimental exploration of the story was the concept of the World View Library. This wasn’t unconnected to the continuity issue, far from it, it was all tied in (Ann sniggered at the unintentional pun) and connected. There were any infinite amount of potential continuity threads leading from, say, one persons desire or intent, to a particular world view in the library.

          AHA shouted Ann, who at that moment had an ‘aha’ moment. Pfft, it’s gone, she sighed moments later.

          Ann tried to catch the wisp of an idea that had flitted through her awareness. She had a visual impression of the library, endlessly vast and marvellously grand, with countless blindfolded characters dashing through, grabbing random pages or sentences, bumping into each other, snatching at phrases willy nilly, dropping notes along the way, and racing back out again into the ether. A stray thought here, a picture there, a name or a date, all on separate bits of crumbled paper clutched in the sweaty palms of the blindfolded characters as they rushed headlong back to their own realities to proudly share the new clues. Like magpies they were, snatching at anything that glittered brightly enough.

          :magpie: :magpie: :magpie: :magpie: :magpie: :magpie:

          “I thought you said they were blindfolded?” interrupted Franlise.

          Ann ignored the interruption, and continued ~ in a continuous fashion ~ to ponder the imagery of the library.

          What the undisciplined purloiners of random snatches didn’t notice on their pell-mell excursions into the library were the characters in the library who weren’t wearing blindfolds. They smiled down from the galleries, calmly watching from above the mayhem that the news of the unlimited library access had occasioned, chortling at the scenes of chaos below. They smiled indulgently, for they too had first visited the library blindfolded, snatching at this and that, and racing home again to inspect the booty; they too had fretted and pondered over the enigmas of the incomplete snippets. Eventually (or not, it was after all a choice), they had bravely removed the blindfolds, slowed the mad race into a sedate stroll through the library, opened their eyes and looked around, sure of the way back home now, and not in a desperate hurry to blast in, snatch anything, and run back home.

          After awhile, they began to realize that all the enchanting glittering jewels scattered around to catch their eye would still be there later, there was no urgency to grab them all at once ~ although, as Ann reminded herself, that too was a choice ~ some may well choose to be eternally snatching at glittering jewels.

          Ann frowned slightly and wondered if she’d lost the thread altogether, and then decided that it didn’t matter if she had.

          It was a choice, therefore, to remove ones blindfold, and stroll through the library ~ a choice to perhaps choose a book, sit down at a polished oak table and open it, a choice to stay and read the book, rather than ripping out a page and dashing back home. That would be one choice of continuity, a coming together of strings.

          Ann wondered whether that would then be called a cable, or a rope ~ well perhaps not a rope, she decided, that had other associations entirely ~ but a cable, yes, that had associations of reliable and regular communications. There were always strings of continuity, then, strings of connecting links, between anything and everything, but when one stopped dashing about clutching at the sparkley bits, one might form a cable.

          Or not, of course. Thin strings of continuity and connections were not ‘less than’ thick cables of reliable and regular communications. It has to be said though, Ann reluctantly admitted, that thick cables often made more sense.

          She decided to hit send before embarking on a pondering of the meaning of Sense.

          #2539

          In reply to: Strings of Nines

          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Franlise smiled gently to herself when she read Anne’s latest offerings. She was well used to making sense of the distorted and twisted words poor Ann worked so hard upon. Many might call them utter rubbish, but Franlise was a kindly soul, who was content to be seen as a cleaner by those who cared to look no further, and it would not be in her sweet nature to dismiss the works of another as “utter rubbish”, however bizarre those works may be.

            #2504

            In reply to: Strings of Nines

            The smell of the incense was giving her a sense of comfort and was helping her unfocus her attention in order to let the trance occur. She was one of the Seers of the Crimson Feather Order and when she was in a trance, the Goddess was speaking through her for those priests or priestesses who were seeking directions.

            The Seers usually had no memories of what was happening when they were speaking for the Goddess and they were usually coupled with a Witness so the message would not be altered by the requester to best suit his or her desire. Depending on the clarity of the message, a period of evaluation and interpretation could be necessary and in case of official communications it was then forwarded to every temple.

            Though in certain occasions the Witness could be missing as it was the case today. The archbishop Boorla had requested a meeting with no Witness, and in such cases the value of the information was only considered of personal nature. He was late, and she could put off the meeting if she wanted to, but a faint feeling was suggesting her to wait a bit longer.

            When he entered a few minutes later, introduced by her usual Witness, he seemed furious and having great difficulties containing his anger. He was a red long-haired cat and his collar was particularly imposing in such moments. She had to focus on herself and not let his irritation make her loose her balance for the trance. As the Witness left the room, she took a deep breath and purred gently as she began the ritual. The Requester had to keep silence until being invited to do ask their question and she needed some time to calm him.

            She felt at first his irritation grow as she was purposefully delaying the beginning of the trance, but he couldn’t resist longer the soothing purr of the Seer, and as she asked the ritual question, she felt her consciousness fading out.

            :fleuron:

            When she came out of trance, she was feeling sick, the delivery of the message had been interrupted and though he was silent she could feel the fury of the archbishop flowing like waves. Apparently the message didn’t please him at all, and he barely spoke the ending ritual Thanks to the Goddess before he left the room hissing.

            Though she was feeling tired and would need some rest, she couldn’t help wondering what had happen.

            #2203

            The Fellowship wish to extend our greetings to you young lady, and to thank you most sincerely for gracing us with your delightful presence.

            Lavender smiled encouragingly at the pointy headed gentleman who was welcoming her so warmly. Still, she was wondering anxiously why she had been summoned to this meeting of the Fellowship, when her little Essence was not due for another two days.

            Thank you, it is I who am honoured to be here. she responded politely.

            The Speaker smiled benignly at her. I sense your anxiety. Let me assure you there is no reason for concern. We are very happy with your pregnancy. However we did encounter some unexpected challenges. Perhaps, it is best if you just see for yourself.

            He nodded to one of the Helpers, who waited like silent black shadows around the edges of the room. The Helper disappeared, and returned a moment later carrying a large bundle, which appeared to be wiggling vigorously. The Helper laid the bundle gently at Lavender’s feet and unwrapped the cover. Three little striped piglets emerging, squealing indignantly.

            Yes, smiled the Speaker. We are delighted to inform you that your pregnancy has resulted in triplet piglets. I am sure even though this is unexpected, you will be as thrilled as we here at the Fellowship are.

            Lavender hoped Aspidistra liked piglets as much as the Fellowship clearly did …

            #2186
            EricEric
            Keymaster

              “Speaking of infinite details,” said Björn who was watching a circus program with a muscular looking man who balancing his contortionist partner who was attempting to balance plants on her face.

              “What?” said Iris who was already dozing on the couch.

              “Sorry dear, I was just talking to myself, have nice dreams”, he said, stroking gently her freckled face.

              He continued in his head, slightly dozing off himself.

              “One two, one two. Testing the acoustics… Sounds good.”

              “Funny how these thoughts come in and out… It occurred to me something funny.”

              :fleuron:

              “Can you add a plush toy in your dream?”
              “Oh sure darling. What kind of?”
              “A baby aardvark”

              :fleuron:

              Björn wasn’t very comfortable yet, he started to toss and turn until he realized he was seated on Iris’ plush aardvark. He fondly placed the little soft thing in Iris’ arms and returned to his thoughts.

              “There, it’s inserted…”
              “Now, your reality can be viewed to some extent as the most complex, yet the most simple of assemblage. You may liken it if you will to a room with mirrors (*). Ancient Indian mystics have spoken of Indra’s net where droplets of waters are each reflecting all of the other ones; these are the same images.
              It is not new information to you, the fact that you are seeing your reflection in your world, or that it is a sort of illusion reflecting you, but this is not the point we want to highlight here.

              Consider that the room in which you are is reflected an infinite amount of times in every direction. In a sense, they are all the same. They are you. Now, we come to the interesting part. You may very well decide to explore the room next to you with its shining details, by going through one of these mirrors. Some individuals quite enjoy such explorations, they call it past or future or even probabilities, other dimensions etc. And by moving into the next room, it becomes their present.

              You now realize that you have not really moved, since all rooms reflect only you. And you may want to continue in the direction you are exploring and go into more rooms. It’s alright. But some individuals realize that all rooms are equivalent, and that from where you stand, you can view the point you wish to explore in one part of the mirrors reflections. This is being present. You shift your attention, and expand your vision of the tiny part, rather than moving towards it with great efforts.

              Now, when you are dreaming, the very nature of dreams is the same. It gives you a whole fractal hologram to ponder. You may get carried away by wanting to remember all the tiny details, because in doing so, what you are doing is simply opening rooms upon rooms upon rooms. And more details will be created for you! Or you can simply realize that the details are all contained within your feeling of being present, and standing in the middle of one of these rooms, and not one of them is more important than the next.

              Connect to your feeling, and all the natural movements of your explorations will be automagically connected. And we bid you a nice fractal dream exploration.”

              #2182

              Of course Aspidistra’s qualities, although unique, were not particularly useful when it came to gaining paid employment. She lamented this fact at some length to her best friend Dick Tator. Dick did his best to console the distraught Aspidistra, even offering to teach her to speak in a more posh accent, but to no avail. She was inconsolable.

              I am going to hell in a handbasket! she cried. I am completely unemployable! Will I sink to the lowest level of society? To a world without money or moral obligation?

              It seemed decidedly odd to Dick that his friend believed that she created the very heavens, yet could not create a job for herself.

              What is it you would love to do above all else, dear Aspidistra? asked Dick gently. For he was a kind hearted soul, deep down.

              Without hesitation Aspidistra replied, I would like to sing songs! songs of joy! songs that make people dance!

              #1280

              “Well, I must say, the random daily quote is rather apt GodfreyElizabeth said with a weak smile. “Listen to this:

              ‘When Rudy the myna had come back crashing on the boat, it all became suddenly a huge uncontrollable chaos.
              The hovering menacing clouds that were looming in front of them were coming closer at a dreadful speed, and even more concerning were the rocks that were appearing everywhere now, that they had more and more trouble to avoid in betwixt the turmoils and eddies.

              So they had finally come to the Great Rift, Bådul was thinking. The back of the legendary water dragon that noone was known to have crossed.’

              “What do you think of that, eh?”

              “Oh by golly, it is rather isn’t it. Been quite a day hasn’t it, Elizabeth?” Godfrey smiled gently.

              “I should say so!” she replied. “Oh, listen to this:

              ‘But Bådul knew better.
              He howled orders to get everybody ready at their posts, and felt reassured when he saw that Austor was maneuvering with dexterity and confidence through the rift.’

              “Ahahah…..” Elizabeth was starting to sound marginally hysterical. She continued reading the random daily quote.

              “‘He ignored the crazy laugh of Razkÿ, the madman who was now shouting with a manic laughter…..’”

              #1044

              Just behind the plumpy panting woman who was coming to the campfire, Balbina could see the most interesting waddling goat she had ever seen coming along.

              “And I suspect the goat talks too?” Balbina asked Yuki.
              “Oh, yes… lots even… But don’t expect to understand all she says” Yuki added with a bwink.

              Hahaha, Balbina was amazed. That place was the most delirious dream/out-of-body projection she’d had in a long long time. How entertaining.

              “Beh, don’t be fooled, Balbina dear, it’s all real. And you’ll know very soon.” the goat started to greet her.
              “And you are?”
              Rafaela, at your service.”
              “How many more like you are there here? I’ve never seen such a funny zoo…”
              “A great deal actually” answered Yuki “but not so many of them are focused in this form. You still have to meet our dear Armowlle, who is doing some spying business and occasional rescue missions on the island, and our soft Arailynx who is on more subjective missions currently…”

              Balbina was wondering “and why did you say I’ll know very soon?” she asked the goat.
              Rafaela answered with a mysterious smile “Because I’m planning to communicate a way out of this island to two of my little protégés, and I expect some of these people will follow. And you are very likely to meet them in the flesh when they get there.”
              “Really?!” Balbina was amazed. This dream was taking qualities of realness she wouldn’t have suspected the least it to have.

              “Now,” Yuki cut short the amazement moment “we need to have those among our friends willing to leave, to be prepared to leave at dawn.”

              “Okay” Anita, who had been seated on the sand quietly till then, rocking gently from side to side in a calm meditation, said softly.

              “Oh, she really can feel us talking…” Balbina said more to herself than to anyone else. And looking closely at the girl’s energy field, she could see how expanded it was, reaching those of Yuki, Kay the spirit dog, and Rafaela and even hers in luminous threads.

              “Not all of them are leaving tonight” answered Yuki to her unspoken question. “I think Anita and her parents will, but it’s more than probable than the others will stay. Some have business to do here, and others are in vacations huhu…”

              “You’re right, seems like the one with the strange energy field is gone already?”
              “Oh Claude, you mean. Yes. His mummification experience wasn’t too pleasant, and he has unfinished business with the people of the island; no wonder he prefers to stay here on his own.”

              (on the beach, around the campfire, in Regional Area 1, or physical reality)

              Awww, plane-crash you say? ‘ow wonderful… Mavis was chatting with Akita. Ye need to come with me, ye can’t stay ‘ere all night. Besides, Shar and Glaw will be so thrilled to see you. And we were starting to think it was all boring ‘ere; didn’t know they would have real survivors like on real-TV!

              Aaron and his familythey would probably need some better shelter, I assume. This probably would be best for us to come with you… Akita answered. And apparently, Claude has left, so that’s just us…

              Owlright then! Mavis beamed, come with me handsome! she said, clutching the soldier’s muscular arm under hers.
              Don’t worry Akita, we’ll follow you, said Anita to the soldier who was visibly appealed by the woman but was also weary to leave Anita alone with her sleeping parents. Besides, we can see the lights behind the trees, it’s very near…

              See you there Anita! Akita said to Anu
              Bye Akita! And don’t worry, Kay is always with you she said with a mysterious smile.

              As they walked side by side to the facility, Mavis said “Kay? A friend of yours?”
              “Oh, my lost dog… Nothing to worry about” answered Akita absently.

              #1041
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “I want to go home”, sighed Jose. “I just want to go home.” He sighed again as he stood looking out of the cabin. What a mess it all was. Cyclone Ycart had left a trail of mangled wreckage in her wake, but it wasn’t just the devastation on the island, it was the atmosphere, the feeling of chaos, the sense of hidden turmoil permeating the place that made him weary and homesick.

                “Ah, JoselitoPaquita whispered softly, stroking his hair gently “Why do you want to go home? What about the treatments?”

                “Oh, bugger the treatments!” Jose frowned. “I don’t think I want the treatments any more, you know.” He looked at Paqui’s face. “I never even notice your skin anymore, I like it just the way it is. I don’t even worry about my scars any more, either.”

                “I know what you mean” Paqui smiled. “I’m not worried about it either, anymore. I’d like to go home too now. The question is, though, how do we get off this god forsaken island?”

                Jose sighed again. “God only knows”

                Paqui took Jose by the hand and led him back inside the cabin. “Remember what I was telling you about the ancients dreaming together? How the tribe would dream together, plan where to go next? How they would work things out in their dreams? Let’s try it. Let’s go to sleep and when we wake up we’ll compare notes, and see if we can come up with a solution”

                Jose smiled a crooked smile, thinking that sleep sounded as good as anything else he could think of to do. Well, perhaps there was one other thing. Jose winked at Paqui as he closed the door behind them.

                :fleuron2:

                When they woke up the sun was low enough on the western shore to cast long umber shadows across the cabin floor, and dust particles danced in the golden sunbeams. Jose woke first and lay still, savouring the remnants of dream images. He felt good; the indescribable sense of having accomplished some meaningful communications with known but elusive others that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, yet couldn’t deny the validity of. It was some minutes before he remembered the plan to dream of a solution to the problem of how to get off the island, and in an instant the well-being evaporated as he struggled to recall any useful details, and frustratingly found that he couldn’t recall a thing.

                “Focus on the feeling, Joselito” a voice in his head said. The voice had come through loud and clear, a deep male voice with a hint of a merry chuckle. “Ha ha ha!” The voice boomed again, as if in response to Jose’s awareness of him. An image of dusty reddish skin, swathed in indigo blue cloth flashed through Jose’s mind, and then vanished like a particle of dust moving out of the sunlight into the shadows.

                Paqui was beginning to stir, and started mumbling. “The pool, the rock pool, there’s a cave under the pool, hold your breath it won’t be long and out the other side…” She opened her eyes and sat up. “There’s a pool, Jose, and under the pool there’s a tunnel. That’s how we get off the island.”

                Jose frowned. “Paqui, this island is in the middle of the ocean, miles from anywhere. Even if there is a tunnel, and even if it goes anywhere at all, it would take months to get to the mainland on foot!”

                “Focus on the feeling, Joselito ~ Ha ha ha!” That voice in his head again! Jose was starting to think he was going mad. Suddenly he was filled with doubts and hopelessness. Everything seemed so utterly ridiculous. God, what was he doing here on this island! Everything was crazy here. If only he could just go home!

                “Focus on the feeling, Jose.” The voice was gentle now, and kind. “The feeling will take you home”.

                “I don’t know what you mean!” cried Jose in exasperation. “How can a feeling take me home? It’s not logical!”

                Paqui smiled a wise old smile and said “If you can’t trust yourself, dear one, then trust me for now. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

                “But we don’t even know where the pool is! What if we can’t find it?”

                “Focus on the feeling Jose, and trust that we will.”

                #949
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  They don’t do much though Sam, do they? said Tina, looking quizzically at the sleeping infants and just managing to repress the urge to prod one of them in order to wake it.

                  Sam did not appear to be overly bothered. He was making strange cooing noises and waving a toy Lemur in the air in front of the cribs.

                  He glared at Tina. Shush Tina! Do you have no maternal instincts at all? Sleeping or not, they take everything in. Do you know that baby crocodiles talk to each other even from inside the egg? He shook his head in exasperation.

                  Don’t mind that mean old Tinipooh, he said gently to the babies. Uncle Sam will play you some nice soothing didgereedoo.

                  Tina laughed, kissed Sam affectionately, and made a hasty exit. Not that she didn’t enjoy the didgereedoo, of course.

                  #940
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    Phew, said Becky, mopping her brow with her hand, what a great work out!

                    Tina was very impressed with how diligently Becky was doing her Visualisation Exercises for Pregnancy, and rather surprised to see genuine sweat pouring down her flushed and hot face. She had agreed to do the exercises with Becky, but truth to tell had dozed off after a few minutes. Still, not that I need to do exercises, Tina thought, admiring her toned and slim body. Becky kept complaining about weight gain, and Tina had tried to point out that was what happened when one had a baby. Becky was having none of it.

                    By the way Tina, what’s up with Al?

                    Yeah … said Tina hesitantly, torn between loyalty and honesty. Well I don’t really know. He is a bit obsessed …

                    Obsessed is the word! It’s turning into a monologue. We had better write something soon or who knows what havoc he will wreak on the reality play. You know he killed the spider?

                    Well, said Tina brightly, always willing to see the bright side, at least it has distracted him from his body modification experiments for a while.

                    #919

                    It only took a few seconds for Armelle to deflate though she donned off with a hint of reluctance the delightfully filling feeling of power she had acquired notwithstanding the slight overweight (a few grams at best, given her immaterial nature of pristine white hallowy owly essence, but you could not reasonably expect to be really ascended with even no more than a few grams of physicality left, could you?)…

                    So, it only took a few seconds, which in essence’s inner time was tantamount to a mere eon (a merry myriad of seconds).

                    But then, all was so clear.
                    She was seeing the trail that was left unwatched by the spiders, and that her friends would take to the wort-hole.

                    Claude, my dear, would you be so kind as to oblige me for a few minutes? she regally asked her host of the branches, taking great care not to be too self-conscious, which would irremediably make her roll her eyes and lose all composure.
                    Well… err… I s’pose yes…
                    Indeed. Then, take good care of the wort-hole, and wait for us to come back, and then lead us back to the place from whence you came.
                    Wouldn’t do that, if I were you… It’s full of magpies there…
                    Oh bugger now. Armelle sighed so profusely that it made the hair raise on Claude’s head. The Snoot told me the way would be clear, so… have a little faith in me she said in a cocker’s voice.

                    And there, in a majestic elan, she went back to the spot where her friends were now gently getting together.

                    :fleuron:

                    When she arrived, Akayli the were-lynx had just been deposing his precious package of the two silk-wrapped parents at the feet of little Anita. The first minutes of doubt passed, her hesitant face started to show a smile, knowing that her parents would be fine.

                    Yuki was for himself all very impressed by the transformergence of his friends, and was finding that a very good idea to get more focused.
                    However, he could hear the yet unvoiced protests of Armelle at his yet unphrased suggestion of a mergence
                    Now way I get my white feathers mixed in that bloody smelly goat’s fur!
                    And of course, he could hear too the yet unvoiced slew of outraged protests
                    Smelly goat? Who you bloddy call a smelly goat, you persnickity saucer-eyed shuttlecock?

                    Yet… Yuki, gazing for a few seconds of essence in the stream of possibilities, weighted again the enticing result that a mergence of the three of them would produce…
                    Which would be… a… grabbiffon.
                    A magnificent winged horned cotton-tailed… sort of… gryffun… or grumpfoon.
                    Well… perhaps Armelle was right in the not-yet-voiced first place.

                    That would just be plain ridiculous.

                    So… what are we waiting for?! Let’s do it now!! all three of them laughed in unison :D =)) :creating_magic: :buffoon:

                    #866
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      When Sam explained gently to Becky about the essences waiting for an entry point into this dimension, the ones that had chosen her, Becky, she was at a loss as to know what to think.

                      Well I don’t want to let them down, Sam, she said mournfully.

                      Sam laughed and said, You won’t be letting them down, silly. They’ll find another entry point. There’s no shortage of pregnant women in this dimension, you know.

                      But I feel like they’re mine already, Sam, I feel responsible for them now.

                      Laughing loudly, Sam reminded her that resposibility was her own core truth, and not an absolute one. Other essences are not your responsibility, you daft goose!

                      I know that, but I feel somehow connected to them now. I’ll always wonder about them, worry that they made a bad choice and chose a horrid entry point…her voice trailed off, and then she giggled. I’m talking absolute rubbish aren’t I?

                      Frankly, yes, dear, winked Sam. Anyway, aren’t you confusing two separate issues here, Becky? In the future probability that you viewed, Sean was a drunkard, and you had many children. They are not necessarily connected, you know. Sam winked again, and Becky blushed and whacked him over the head with the cushion she’d been clutching.

                      Oh stop! I haven’t even been on my honeymoon yet!

                      #854

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

                      That’s funny you say that, said Franiel recovering his marbles after a bit of an aghast moment. This name sounds oddly familiar… Is… he a talking parrot?
                      Oh, yes of course, said Phoebe Chesterhope, though that’s not the least of its particularities she added with an eerie smile on her thin wrinkled mouth.
                      The others, you said she snapped back, her gaze suddenly sharp as a sword. I suppose you’ll meet them, unless you’ve got already.
                      I’m not sure to know what you’re talking about, Milady said Franiel slightly perplexed.
                      Oh well, I can see from the clothes you are wearing that you’re coming from a place of peace and sainthood. This place is a haven too, in many ways. This place has been kept as such since a few centuries, and I intend it to stay that way. Though the Others are devising ploys always more clever to have a hand on this place. For that, I know how to keep a keen eye on what’s happening, she said with a troubling wink to her parrot.
                      The valley is surely a nice place, said Franiel not sure of what he should say.
                      To the contrary. It’s full of marauders if you ask me, but for good reason. Uleÿa’s valley is a place not easily reached, and there are not many portals around here. No official ones at least… So in a sense, it’s an exchange of good will between me and them.

                      Franiel was not sure he wanted to delve more into all this intricate political web of alliances and plots, no more than he wanted to be involved in religious beliefs and fanaticisms…

                      I can see you are a little troubled, but you’ll find your place in all these events, assuredly, Phoebe said gently. But be certain that whenever you are wanting yourself out of them, you sure will find yourself right in the midst of them, without you even knowing it.
                      I only want to be a good man, and do the least evil in this World, I suppose finally answered Franiel after an awkward moment.
                      This, I am sure is true… You know, I’m a little bit of a witch, I mean, intuitive person, and I can pick up images from yourself. I’m not sure about some of them, but most of them are as clear as the waters of Uleÿa. Take your time to feel at home around here. Vincentius will answer you if you need anything, in any case better than Lydia or Derwent.
                      But… I mean no offense here, dear Lady,… Vincentius is but a parrot, isn’t it?

                      Phoebe sighed for a moment then took Franiel by the arm, so quickly and firmly he didn’t see it coming, and couldn’t move, hypnotised by the firm grip of the woman.

                      Listen carefully, my friend. I can see you can be trusted, as much as your mind is thirsty for the truth, so I will tell you. Vincentius is no mere creature. He’s the result of a little experiment I had once with a former guest of mine. Another divine being, as pure and innocent as you, going by the same very name of this creature. I captured a spark of his radiant aura, and mixed it with an egg I had kept for the occasion. And so it was born. A perfect spy, as well as a faithful friend.

                      Franiel recoiled in horror… What have you done?!

                      Oh, don’t be so dramatic, my young friend Phoebe said with a little giggle. No one has been harmed, and even if at times, there seem to be some side-effect when my former guest seems to see or speak through my parrot, it all has gone very well… And no, I don’t intend to do it to you… Don’t give me silly ideas, ahahah.

                      #809

                      Adorning the enormous wooden door of Chesterhope Mansion was a heavy bronze knocker in the shape of an ornate dragon. The door stood slightly open.

                      Hello! Anyone there! Franiel called out several times, each time pushing the door open wider.

                      Only an echoey silence responded.

                      Franiel mindfully removed his boots. With a growing sense of excitement, as well as some slight trepidation if the truth be told, he entered the massive entrance hall. A black marble statue of a tiger reminded him curiously of his dream. To the left and right were doors, but after knocking gently, he found these to be locked.

                      In the distance someone began to play the piano, a slow and simple melody. Franiel followed the faint sound to the door at the end of the hallway. He entered a massive dining room, in the center of which stood a very long table with 12 highbacked chairs. The furniture was heavy and dark, but sunlight streaming in through the window mercifully lightened the atmosphere.

                      Crossing the room he entered the rear parlour from whence came the music. A woman sat with her back to him playing an upright piano. She had long grey hair, worn loose down her back. Franiel noticed how thin she was, and how straight she sat as her long fingers delicately caressed the keys.

                      Hesitantly he knocked, not wishing to startle her. She stopped playing and turned towards him. Her face was gaunt, and such a pale colour, he found himself wondering if it had been a long time since she had seen the light of day. But her eyes were alive, bright and intense, and she did not seem awfully surprised to see him there.

                      Hello she said, Who are you? I don’t think I have seen you here before.

                      I am Franiel. I am sorry to arrive so unexpectedly … he began

                      Oh no! you mustn’t be sorry, the woman interrupted, jumping up with a speed and agility which surprised Franiel given her otherwise frail appearance. She rushed over to him and then reached out and lightly touched his cheek. A look of wonder crossed her face and she stepped back.

                      Oh my goodness! You are real! she exclaimed in astonishment. I thought you were one of the others.

                      #805

                      When Franiel got to the crossroads the path turned abruptly to the left and plunged sharply down, past a crumbling and long-deserted stone cottage, to a little bridge built across a gently flowing river. Beyond the bridge there was a short ascent westwards through a thickly wooded area and then the way opened out rather suddenly. Such a pleasant and restful scene welcomed Franiel that for a moment he felt he may have entered a dream. The air was fragrant, the grass was sprinkled with daffodils and shaded by great chestnut trees. Confronting Franiel, at the south-west corner of the green, was a massive stone lych-gate. Beyond the lynch gate, and almost hidden by trees Franiel could see the roof of Chesterhope Manor.

                      :fleuron:

                      In the day of judgment God be merciful to Derwent a sinner ……hehehehe. Well good riddance to God’s judgement! Begone God’s judgement! We’ve cheated the parson, we’ll cheat him again, for why should the vicar have one in ten ? Oh what’s this now then walking through the gate? A stranger! hehehehehe…tis one of God’s angels methinks, perhaps come to strike old Derwent down for his heathen ways and blasphemous tongue. Well does old Derwent even know what an angel looks like? and he chuckled in delight at the very idea of it.

                      You there! he shouted as Franiel drew close, Are you the angel Gabriel come as a messenger of God’s wrath? Or a wandering stranger come to pass the time of day with me?

                      Well neither really, said Franiel, although of the two possibilities I favour the second. I have come to have a word with Madame Chesterhope.

                      Madame Chesterhope! Does she still live here then? He lowered his voice reverently. A real angel that one, better than those biblical ones by a long shot. So you want a word in her ear. You will have to find it first of course.

                      Should I try the house? asked Franiel politely.

                      Try the house? Derwent rubbed his bearded chin thoughtfully. I tell you what! Try the magic mushrooms first, and when you’ve tried them, try the patience of Saint Derwent. He gave Franiel a kindly pat on the shoulder. Good on you for trying Lad, anyway. I’ll bid you farewell now and if you do find an ear, best keep it, a spare ear can always come in handy.

                      #801

                      The cold wind was blowing upon the marshes. The atmosphere was damp and dark with threatening gray clouds. A storm was approaching and Asiir was dreaming.

                      Her dreams were so strong that they were triggering many emotions in her rider. Since their bonding seven years ago, their link had grown stronger and Lola wouldn’t think of shutting it down even in those uncomfortable moments. They were one.

                      Lola was feeling a menace, some undefined threat coming with the storm, as if the storm was just the visible counterpart of what was preparing. In those moments, Lola couldn’t help but think of her family and her village… Her fist grasped tightly the grip of the sword she was holding.

                      Everyone was killed when she was nine. Her dragon wasn’t fully developed at that time and couldn’t help her save her people. All Asiir could do was shield her from them as she was shielding herself, not even thinking of it.

                      She sighed deeply, releasing the pressure of the storm and of the dreams. She’d learnt not to hold on the powerful emotional responses but to open herself as a channel of her dragon’s dreams. All she could do was let the energy flow through her. Was it Asiir creating the storm or the storm disturbing Asiir’s dreams? She wasn’t aware of the answer yet, but at times it had bothered her to think that her dragon could cause “bad things” to happen.

                      A chilly breeze and a surge of electricity. She grinned impishly.
                      It was the time of her lesson.

                      You’re late master. she thought to the shadowy figure behind her. She was feeling something different that day in the presence. You’re not alone. I can feel a different energy with you today…

                      The dragon growled in her agitated sleep.

                      Your emotions are dragon drenched again, Lola. I know you consider it a proof of your connection with your beast, but it may be far more damaging than you think.

                      Lola had felt a twinge at how Samira had called her friend, she was feeling her emotions rise dangerously to the point which she had learned she could not control herself. She had always wondered if Samira was seriously considering dragons as beasts or if she was teasing her, especially since she had let the connection develop in such a way.

                      You’re going to have a new teacher…

                      Lola’s heartbeat accelerated slightly, so slightly, but she could feel her mentor’s smile upon her interrogations. Was she leaving? She’d always dreaded such a moment. She felt the wry expression of Samira.

                      I’m not going away… you need a training that I can’t give you. You need to learn how to ride properly over your bond and not get consumed by it, and Noraam can teach you that.

                      A strange impression of connection with the new energy flew in her, making her feel quite uneasy. Such an intimacy was unusual with another human energy. Or was he human?

                      A sudden surge of energy made her wince. She turned to her mentor and was surprised to only see Samira in her stout armor. She could feel the strength of the other energy but she couldn’t give him a form. She was feeling nudged gently from many directions at the same time and realized that she was afraid of loosing her bond with her friend. Wasn’t she trusting her bond? Another chill, and the rain started falling.

                      You won’t really need all that Samira taught you during these last 4 years

                      The inner voice was almost inaudible, but still she could feel it was not a voice and that the communication was going through another pathway. The vegetation of the marshes and few rocks were shifting to an unnatural yellow tint, and the faint glow around her teacher was growing in intensity. Actually, all the objects around her was beginning to glow, the limits of their shapes were collapsing.

                      Lola was sill feeling the link with Asiir but it was thinning down in such an unfamiliar way.

                      I’m going to help you remove the veils that Samira helped you put on your consciousness when you first met. But first you need to renew the link with yourself.

                      She heard a vague sound of steel on the ground… had she lost her sword? She couldn’t feel her body. She couldn’t move as she was used to… but was it still something to move? The face of a man was forming in the energy patterns of the glowing clouds. Was he close or far away? Was he huge or of human size? Was she massive?

                      A pounding sound in the distance of her inner ear… a familiar call but she was still so far.

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