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  • #449

    All that farting had been quite exhausting, but the mummy felt that she was reincorporating vigor more quickly now, as the old fartesque energy was giving way.
    This was a quicker process than birthing, but also more disturbing.

    She slowly started to unwrap her bandages.
    She smiled as she saw her peach smooth skin on her hands.

    :fleuron:

    Malvina had clapped her hands and made the food and drinks and decorations disappear in the reception hall of the cave, feeling the time was not to big parties right now. The guest had moved again, and she had not been in the mood for party either.
    She had not yet managed to reestablish contact with her sisters and that was a more pressing matter.

    Leörmn had been retreating into his seasonal slumber, and would not be of great help at the moment, so she knew it was also time for her to get back to simple things and not worry about what was not yet here. Probabilities had simply moved, they would come back.

    The silgreen tree had bloomed, and she wanted to brew some potions with its flowers. She would then go with Irtak to the village sell some vials of potion, and perhaps they would take the opportunity to see Huÿgens too, as he sometimes needed such potions for his langoats.

    :fleuron:

    For Illi the cat, that cave filled with slimey scaly beasts was now out of her way.
    Good riddance.

    This dead Illi experience had been so intense she had almost believed there indeed was a pink indigo dragon right were she was at the entrance of the cave. But the impression had vanished all of a sudden, and she had found herself with her mind again her own only, without the echoing thoughts of that deranged other.
    She had found a tree nearby, and comfortably seated on some high branches had been mediating with the help of trance inducing betel catkins that she carried with her as she traveled.

    She had seen some weird stuff, like farting bandage wrapped people putting cobblestones to make a way to the sky, but that was enjoyable. As nothing really could make sense that night, she decided to go to sleep on her tree.

    In the morning, a snorting sound made her raise her pointy ears. Just below her tree, a man was eating and singing, looking at some map, obviously planning some interesting adventure…

    :fleuron:

    In the cave, where Vincentius was left with the Ugling boy and Mandrake, the latter finally decided to break the ice.

    — How pitiful we left that sabulmantium to the snorting man… Mandrake said, we could have had a peek into Arona’s adventure… Not that I am concerned, she is so brave, but you know, she’ll always be my little… What am I saying? mumbled Mandrake temporarily confused.
    — Oh, you mean, Arona had a sabulmantium?
    — Mmm, well, of course… We projected hairy cows and stuff… (I’m really saying the stupidest things today, might be that herbal tea, shivered Mandrake, licking his paw and combing with it the unkempt hair on his head)
    — Interesting… But you know if you want to have a look, we can do otherwise. Let me see…
    — (trying to make yourself important, huh) thought Mandrake

    Vincentius took a little blue bag tied to his belt, and threw a pinch of a smelly mossy powder on the smoldering embers.
    A thick greenish smoke started to rise making Mandrake retreat carefully (or tactfully he would say) in his favourite place behind the pile of logs to look at the discomfiture of poor Vincentius without having to overwhelm him too much with his own superior sharp intuitive senses.
    But to Mandrake’s surprise, the smoke steadied like a moving wall, and images started to foarm.

    — Hey, this is my little girl, Arona! Mandrake couldn’t help but say.
    A-lo-na, the slow voice of Yikes/Zacquer said.

    #448
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Lucius was quite franky exhausted. Building roads, always building roads….endlessly long boringly straight ones. He was fed up with it; the only thing that kept him going was his imagination. If he let his mind wander, he hardly felt his aching back. He didn’t think of Rome, Rome, nothing but Rome, like so many of his compatriots, he thought of other times and places, and imagined what they were like.

      He imagined who had walked this valley before him, and who might walk it after him. He imagined a girl in a swing hung from a fig tree, twirling round and round, and wondered who she was. The image came with a feeling, a feeling of anticipation and excitement, full of enthusiasm and delight. Lucius began to feel a little disorientated, so strong and clear was the image, and wondered why a fig tree was growing right in the middle of the road he was building. He opened his mouth to shout No! We can’t build the road here, this is where the girl swings!….and shut it again quickly. It was getting harder and harder to stay focused on the present and not say anything strange out loud. He looked around furtively, but nobody had noticed.

      Phew! he said, or the Roman equivalent of Phew, and buckled down to the task of building the road.

      #1552

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        okay serious synchs now as you guys have clearly lost the plot. Plot? hmmmm, silly me, I thought there was a plot. :yahoo_oh_go_on:

        Last night I had a LOVELY dream I gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl and we were so happy and I was so proud of myself. :yahoo_applause: :yahoo_applause: :yahoo_applause: :yahoo_applause: :yahoo_applause: :yahoo_applause:

        Yesterday, across the road in the park all these cars gathered, funny racing cars, old ones, for some big racing event or other. I was wandering around with a friend, who is more into cars than me, and a bit bored so started thinking of the story. I looked up and on a little yellow car the number plate said “Flynn Hi”. :yahoo_laughing: Of course this must be Tracy I thought because she has said several times now she likes the name Finn, and then she always adds “and the name Flynn”. Then I looked and saw another number plate and it was ‘TTTTTT
        :face-kiss:

        #1546

        In reply to: Synchronicity

        AvatarJib
        Participant

          hehehe bald sync girls with comment # 248 :face-smile-big: today I heard that our new colleague is a ba(l)d guy

          #1544

          In reply to: Synchronicity

          TracyTracy
          Participant

            And I just read that one of the female singers in the Tuareg band Tinariwen has just had a baby girl :yahoo_rose: :cluebox:

            #370

            — The legend of Mævel — (Part III)

            When the blue fox had disappeared, deep into the woods, Mævel was left wondering if all of that had only been a dream. Perhaps it was just a dream, and something that would make her parents raise their shoulders in dismay.
            Especially since she had lost their gift carelessly they would say, the little pearl white ribbon…

            She picked up the clothes that were left hanging to dry up in the wind, and came back to the little house.

            Of course, her father Jorg noticed that she was not wearing the ribbon, but he was not much of a question asker, and things were or were not, and analyzing them was unnecessary for him. But of course, Ilga noticed it too, and she felt sad for poor Jorg who had endured so many sacrifices to buy the little ribbon that Mævel was no longer wearing. She wanted an explanation! Was it no longer to Mævel’s tastes, had Mævel lost it?

            So Mævel, who could not lie to anybody, told them her encounter with Blohmrik, the cursed god in the woods, in the shape of a wounded blue fox… and at each of her words, was seeing their faces more and more disconcerted.
            Their poor girl, who was already so different, had completely lost it,… ribbon and all that was left of common sense in her.

            So they locked her up in the bedroom, that she was now occupying alone, as all of her brothers and sisters had left. Just to save her from herself, and see if that would help her gain some more solid sense of reality.

            Mævel understood her parents, but she was deeply contrite that they could not understand what she had lived. Mævel was still doubting the reality of her meeting the blue fox, so she asked for some sign from the Gods before going to sleep, to see clearly.

            That night, Mævel dreamt of a dark-haired young man with a white diadem1 around his head, dressed in a cerulean blue tunic and wearing a sword. He was enshrouded in a warm light and as she took the hand he was extending, they were carried away by a springing scented wind into a meadow of multicoloured flowers, some of which she had not even known could exist. She had felt at home.
            When she woke up, in the middle of the night, Mævel was transfixed by the beautiful soothing dream. She could not remember much more, but he had told her something. That there was deep magic in her, and it would help her find her true home, but that she would have to gain back her true name from the Elder God who had took it from her.

            She quickly took her decision. She knew she had to search for the blue fox in the forest. But how could she escape the locked bedroom? She was starting to feel desperate again, but she remembered that there was some magic in her, and how she had felt it deeply true in her dream.
            As she was focusing on the warm expanding feeling of her dream, an old rusty key materialized in her hand.

            1 diadem: [ ˈdī-ə-ˌdem (dəm) ] from Greek diadēma, from diadein to bind around; akin to Sanskrit dāman rope — was originally a white ribbon, ending in a knot and two strips that were placed often on the shoulders, that surrounded the head of the king to denote his authority.

            #367
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Becky had been wondering whether the baby Tina had introduced into the reality drama play was a boy or a girl, and had been tempted to look, so to speak, but had felt a reluctance. The thought that the baby was a hermaphrodite had crossed her mind, but she dismissed it, and decided to think about it later…go with the flow, see how things turned out…..

              #365
              AvatarJib
              Participant

                The baby was indeed a girl and sooo sweet….

                #359

                New Venice, year 2101

                In the waiting hall, Bart was pacing the floor recklessly. They were having their first baby, but the doctors had hushed him out, because there were some complications…
                All he could do was wait.
                They were one of the first couple to have tested the new program that allowed same-sex couples to procreate without requiring the assistance of a third-party so to speak. In fact, it had been hypothesized to be possible a long time ago already. Well, theoretically… because the most challenging part had been to bring acceptance to the people, as the old beliefs were still alive in a few moribund activist groups. But what,… nature was doing even more exotic things in the realm of creatures…

                Now he was thinking of Oscar, who had chosen to be the bearer of the child —a girl that would be… will be, mentally corrected Bart to himself. Funny thing about genetics was that male-male couples could have either girls or boys, but female-female couples could only have girls. Only because the male “Y” chromosome was carried by men.
                It had been a painstakingly long subject of discussion among scientists and philosophers as to the unbalance it would create, but well, for the time being, it was the chosen design for our human natures.
                As long as new ways of bypassing this restriction had not been invented, better enjoy it than stretching one’s mind around it.

                Looking at the window which showed the stilted structures above the waters, Bart was thinking how it was all an incredible story… What were the probabilities for that to happen?
                Bart couldn’t help but feel grateful for all of his blessings.

                At the same moment, the big breasted nurse appeared at the door crying with a large smile “it’s a healthy girl!”
                Bart burst into the room.

                :fleuron:

                They had already decided how she would be called. Midora, they had agreed.

                When he entered, Oscar Wrick’s young face was tired and sprinkled with beads of perspiration, but he had the happiest look on his face. He was still feeling a bit self-conscious about the changes the pregnancy had generated in his body, but for now he was all absorbed by the little breathing thing resting in his arms.

                After a warm embrace, Bartholomew Jobsworth thought that he should spread the good news to the family, at least to his mother, dear sparkling Indy and Bart’s parents, Eugenia and Cuthbert. He also had felt the presence of his Dad, Bill, during his wait and was deeply thankful for all of their support.

                #1534

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  About Yurara Fameliki (comment # 220)

                  Yurara (ゆらら の月 Yurara no Tsuki)

                  Yurara Tsukinowa is a quiet girl who can see spirits and sense their emotions. Not wanting to seem abnormal, she hides her secret until she meets Mei Tendo and Yako Hoshino, two guys who use their spiritual powers to ward off vengeful spirits. The dormant guardian spirit in Yurara arises and a strong-willed beauty with the power to release souls emerges.

                  #308
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    When Dory finally woke up from her coleslaw induced stupour, she felt quite befuddled. What a peculiar trip it had been! I’ve taken some recreational drugs in my time, Dory thought, but I’ve never had a trip quite like that one. She wondered what on earth George had drugged the coleslaw with. Dory closed her eyes again, recalling snatches of the hallucinations.

                    Being chased by bandits on hairpin mountain roads with a small baby girl in the car; being held at gunpoint by Idi Amin in an Afrian court; running, running, gasping with terror, chased by old fashioned Bobbies on pushbikes, and dough faced bowler hatted debt collectors…..

                    Dory’s heart was pounding again as she recalled the images that rolled along like a crazy movie montage, a psycho thriller, a horror movie…..

                    ……being held down under the bathwater as a baby with a vicious scowling face looming above her; fighting with a witch in the garden shed for tense petrifying hours; monstrous demons snaking blacky out of ouija boards, and madness and asylums; a man lying in a double bed dying from self inflicted stab wounds and she was shouting and calling and nobody hearing; running, running and gasping, shouting for help and no-one was there…..

                    Well, Dory pulled herself together, No point in dwelling on it, it was just a freaky bad trip.

                    Coffee? George asked.

                    Dory’s head snapped round. Huh? Oh! Gosh, YES please! You’re still here are you? Dory rubbed her eyes and shook herself a bit. Just the mention of coffee had already started to snap her out of her unpleasant reverie.

                    Of course I’m still here, Dory, George said kindly. I am always here. I was with you during you trip, every step of the way, but you were not focused on me.

                    You WERE? Dory was momentarily non-plussed. And then, Well why did you let all that awful stuff happen then? Why didn’t you help me? You just stood there and watched?

                    #300

                    Malvina tried to concentrate on the opalescent glubolín, to locate her Sisters.

                    But that was perhaps too early, because she could feel them close enough, but not focused yet.
                    Instead of communicating directly with their focused attention, she was getting images in the glubolín, that seemed related to them, but not necessarily directly. Something like an overlapping of different aspects.

                    Oörlaith was very close, and she could make out her surrounding. Malvina could briefly see her discussing with a man and a black dog. She had known that man… But then the image dissipated…

                    A sparkling shore, a black and white bird and pirates talking with a boy… the little boy had a buntifluën in his possession; how strange, Malvina thought, how could he?
                    Then the shore changed, she could see herself in a unfamiliar environment of sands, she was wearing a blue shawl and teaching a young impetuous woman, on how to change her features as easily as molding a sand castle. The young woman had just grown cat whiskers for a split second, and was giggling at her first success. How strange again thought Malvina, this simple act had sounded like a feat of importance in that bizarre environment, while it is rather easy to accomplish…
                    Images flying again, she tried to concentrate on Roselÿn.

                    But Roselÿn was perplexing. Malvina did not manage to connect directly to her environment, but could catch glimpses of a flying plump woman in a black and white attire, and she knew at once it was Roselÿn — though not the Roselÿn she knew. Roselÿn the Sorceress was a tall elegant dark-haired woman, but both women emanated the same joyful and loving energy. Flying Plump Roselÿn was with a little giggling girl, and giggling girl was adventurous… How interesting…

                    Something drew her out of her rêverie. Guests had arrived it seemed, she could hear Leörmn calling for her. She was excited at the perspective of visitors, especially at the perspective of meeting the young one who had found the sabulmantium, as she was feeling that her presence now was purposeful for them all.

                    #287
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      India Louise and Eugenia momentarily forgot about the gold locket and walked over to the exceptionally long trunk. India dropped the locket into her pocket as she investigated the exterior of the trunk, which didn’t appear to have an opening. It seemed to have been made around whatever it housed, and permanently.

                      ‘How strange’, mused India, ‘it must not be intended to open, ever!’

                      ‘That makes me want to open it’, said Eugenia. ‘Let’s! Let’s open it!’

                      Eugenia was rummaging in the desk drawers for a suitable tool.

                      ‘Wow, look at this, Indy’. She held a heavy black letter opener up to show India, with an elaborate carved dragon on the handle. The dragon had glittering amethyst eyes, and a serpentine line of coloured stones along its back.

                      India shivered involuntarily at the sight of the dragon. Horrid nasty creatures, dragons, she muttered, resisting an urge to cross herself. ‘Peace be with you, now bugger off’ she whispered the spell under her breath so Eugenia wouldn’t hear her and think she was a silly goose. Horrid scaley slimy stinky reptiles.

                      ‘You go first, Genie, try and prise the trunk open.’ India didn’t want to touch the letter opener, but she was rather curious about the contents of the trunk.

                      Eugenia was a strong and capable lass, with a practical methodical mind ~ unlike India Louise ~ and before long the first piece of wood came splintering off.

                      ‘Nice one, Genie, well done.’ India said as Eugenia wrenched off another few planks.

                      ‘Oh MY GOD!’ ‘Jumping Jehosophat!’ ‘What the……’ ‘Holy Moly, Genie, what the….’. After a few initial exclamations, the girls were silent, the hair standing up on their arms.

                      They were looking down at the shrivelled features of a dried up body, covered in bits of disintegrating faded fabric.

                      ‘A mummy! It’s a friggen mummy!’

                      #282

                      — The legend of Mævel — (Part I)

                      as told by Cpt Bone to young Tomkin

                      In the time of the Gods, the King of the Fairies, Aldurion, fell in love with a beautiful mortal named Theÿa.
                      He wanted to make her his Queen but only the Elder Gods could bestow the gift of immortality upon mortals.
                      So he went to see Ghört, the God of the Airs. Ghört could certainly grant him what he requested, but for that, Theÿa would have to be transformed into an air sprite. Aldurion wouldn’t be able to hold her again. So he declined the offer, and went to see another Elder God.
                      Then, he went to see Nærvel, the Goddess of the Waters. But Nærvel could grant him immortality if Theÿa was to be transformed into a water sprite. So Aldurion declined again.
                      Then he went to see Agnima, the Goddess of the Flames, and then Selvaniel the God of the Woods, and Margilonia the Goddess of the Earths. But all of their conditions were the same, Theÿa would have to be transformed into an immaterial and immortal elemental fairy. But Aldurion couldn’t bear to have her changed into something else than she was.

                      Then, only one of the Elder Gods was left, the one than few of the Immortals dared talk to, and of whom most mortals were afraid, to the point of systematically using the Old Speech respectful form of address (“Shaint”), when referring to him.
                      So Aldurion came to see Lejüs, God of the Forgotten.
                      Lejüs was greatly pleased to see him. When Aldurion had finished exposing his request, Lejüs took a moment to ponder. Giving immortality was none of his wonts, as he was keeper of the Forgotten. But he was not without compassion, and seeing Aldurion’s plight, he offered to grant his wish at the condition that, not his wife, but their first born child, would become Forgotten.
                      Aldurion was so hopeful that all he saw was that the condition seemed so small, based on a future event that perhaps wouldn’t even happen… All he wanted was to have Theÿa as a Queen, and so the deal was made.

                      So became Theÿa Queen of the Fairies.

                      A few God’s Years later, which meant in human years much more than a few years, Theÿa became pregnant.
                      When she announced the news to Aldurion, he was suddenly reminded of the deal he had made with Lejüs, and was quite distraught, as he had not revealed it to Theÿa. But he remained quiet, hoping that Lejüs would have forgotten about the whole story (well, that was forgetting he was Keeper of the Forgotten).
                      So Theÿa gave birth to a little baby girl fairy, with golden wavy hair and bright eyes. She, like her mother, had no wings, but there was magic in her. They named her Araoni.

                      But Lejüs had not forgotten of course, and came to see the Royal couple to claim the baby. Aldurion pretended that the mother and baby was still very weak, and he would have to come back in a few God’s Days. Lejüs agreed, and left complaisantly.

                      Aldurion was at a loss for solutions, but Theÿa was a fairy with lots of ruse, so he decided to reveal it all to her, hoping that she would have a solution.
                      Theÿa asked him time to think about this, and told him not to worry.
                      Later, she had an idea, quite brilliant she thought. All she had to do was to find another child to give Lejüs.
                      So she gave baby Araoni to one of her diligent nurse, the old fairy Gretchÿa, telling her to find a house were a blond new born girl could be exchanged and proceed to the exchange of the babies.

                      So Gretchÿa went across the lands of the Worlds, but only in one home she could find a blond baby girl. The new-born baby girl was almost dying, as the parents were a careless couple of peasants, already plagued with many children, and they could not bother with children hesitating to live.
                      Gretchÿa was heart-broken when she did the exchange, promising to baby Araoni to get her back soon. The young human baby girl was weak and yet unnamed, and the old fairy nurse knew she would probably not live long, and be claimed by Shaint Lejüs. So all was good.

                      When Lejüs came back, he smiled as he saw the baby girl, and left with her without much more words for the Royal couple.
                      Lejüs smiled, for when he had taken the young baby, the parents had instantly forgotten about her, and so did everyone having ever known her…

                      The human parents, surprised to see the condition of their baby improving beyond all hope, named her Mævel, which meant marvel of Maÿ the month in which she was born.

                      #270

                      Oörlaith heard the sound of a barking dog not far from her rookery. They were back with his master, and she knew at once their mission was complete.

                      A few months ago she had met a strange man, he told her he was called Leonard, and the funny black dog that was following him everywhere was called Moufle. An ancient word for mitten… Well she didn’t ask why he’d call him like that, the dog was so hairy…

                      Leonard was a lonely traveller, quite ancient as she could feel, but she wasn’t able to know his actual age. And there were some other weird feelings when she was focusing on his energy tone, something to do with time itself.

                      When she first met him she knew he was the one she was looking for for ages. It’s been such a long time she hadn’t heard from her sisters. Oörlaith’d been having these dreams since they chose different direction many years ago, Malvina and Roselÿn, her precious ones. It wasn’t necessary for her then to keep objective contact with them through the glubolín.

                      One year ago, the dreams stopped abruptly, and she tried several methods to reach her sisters. None of them with success. All her attempts failed, and she thought first she had lost her own power, but she knew one can not loose power of self, just forget it or create it on purpose. She realized then it was time to recreate these links more objectively.

                      She couldn’t find her glubolín though. And Leonard arrived. Fortunately enough he had news from some strange events occurring in the land where she knew Malvina had settled her rookery. Was she still here with Leörmn?

                      ***

                      Yann had been feeling many impulses to draw scenes from his dreams and from the story they were creating with Quintin, Fiona, and Truth. It was an urge from inside and last night he had a very intense dream activity, most of which he couldn’t remember, it was more like a big forum with many different personalities all exchanging experiences and exploring new avenues.

                      He was also attracted by old stories he was writing when he was a student, the one involving Georges and Salome, it seemed to him they had taken a life of their own now, and they felt very powerful, and most of all, they felt like really having fun.

                      One of the drawing that was intriguing him was one that represented a sign of sort, in grayish sparkly clouds. He had given the pic a strange title, Oorlath. Yann had connected the name to an individual and was surprised when Quintin told him about a princess named Oörlaith. He was wondering who she was…

                      She still had no face when he thought of her… maybe she was hidden for the moment… and he had the strangest thought that she knew Leonard, the man he’d been drawing with his black hairy dog.

                      Haha, he had felt her smile.

                      ***

                      Chiara was looking for the boy she’d met last time in her dreams. Maybe he could give her some berries again, they were really tasty and fluberrish.

                      But she’s been looking for him for so long she wonder if she could find the way again…

                      Where she was now felt different. The light? The air? She took a deep breathe and just sat down on the grassy land. She had a quick thought that the land were more rocky than grassy a few seconds ago, but as she was feeling the grass under her hands, she dismissed the thought.

                      She was hearing birds singing, it was quite funny the way they were bounding from one sound to the other and she could understand what they were saying, much gossips and a few compliments for a new mother ;)) nothing really important to her. She Jibbled.

                      Lying down on the mossy land, she was looking… mossy? wasn’t it grassy? Now it’s mossy… hope that wouldn’t become mothy ;))

                      She was looking the clouds, some were grayishly sparkling, she was enjoying it…

                      “Are you looking for something” a voice said.

                      Chiara quickly sat up and gazed at the fat lady who was standing before her.

                      “Hahahaha, you found me at least my dear” laughed the woman.

                      “My name is Roselÿn, and you are Chiara, aren’t you?”

                      The little girl was gaping at Roselÿn… how could she possibly know her name?

                      “I feel I know you :yahoo_thinking:” she said dreamily.

                      “You make me feel like when I’m with my uncle Yann, and… there’s something else… oh!?”

                      #261

                      In searching for a sheet of paper to do some sketches of images going through his mind, Bill found an old poem he had started a long time ago, when he was feeling like he was completely transforming himself. He had not finished the poem, but had kept it all along…

                      It said:

                      I’ve been wandering through the valleys of death
                      Where time knows no ending and all is gray
                      And shadows seek nothing but oblivion itself
                      In mazes of mist, minds’ errands led astray…

                      Perhaps it was time to let go of useless things, Bill thought to himself.

                      He watched the paper slowly smoldering and shrinking and falling to black and white cinders into the hearth.

                      :fleuron:

                      Before going to sleep that night, Quintin had the sensation of Janice’s presence. He was surprised, because she was no longer the little girl he had seen at times, but she was a very pretty young woman, with dark wavy hair.

                      She had giggled at his surprise, telling him that yes, she was catching up with him…

                      :fleuron:

                      The City, year 2255 (%)

                      Today was Janice’s birthday, but not her birthday as the Ancients, two and half a century from her time, would have counted it. It was counted from the time of the conception, as the future parents in this time were fully aware of the agreements they would have with the soul they would decide to give birth to.

                      It was a reminder of this agreement between the parents and the child that was celebrated, and not the actual birth date.

                      Janice had felt Cyprus’ presence quite strongly, and she decided to let herself open to the subjective communication. She was conversing with her friend Qixi, and sent her some energy to let her know she would probably remove her attention for a few moments, knowing she would be accepting.

                      When she closed her eyes, she could immediately feel herself engulfed by the strong yet smooth energy of Cyprus; it was like being kissed by a swarm of blue sparkling butterflies.

                      Then she opened her eyes.

                      She was in an ancient classroom, with Cyprus focused as a teacher figure. Cyprus was seated behind her desk and came at once to great Janice.

                      — Good morning!
                      — Good morning Cyprus, you wanted to say something to me?
                      — In actuality, you wanted me to tell you something, answered Cyprus with a mysterious smile.
                      — Yes, I thought so. Is it about what I am choosing to do as an activity?
                      — Correct.
                      — You are aware that I want to be creating of worlds, and give them to people that would have commissioned them…
                      — Yes, I am aware. And you wanted me to highlight some misconceptions about that.
                      — Oh, misconceptions?
                      — Yes. As you know, with these worlds that you create, you have infinite potential of explorations. You also know that they are not independent from the rest, even when you take great care of encapsulating them in an energy field. And as such, they are not cut-off from yourself, as soon as you deliver them.
                      — It feels like a tremendous responsibility.
                      — It is, and it is not. The responsibility is to yourself, as always. But, I wanted you to be aware that you hold some responsibility, to examine your own injections into these worlds that you create, so that you can be neutralizing what is not desired, and not merely hiding it deeper inside the world itself.
                      — OK, I will do that…
                      — Ahaha, there is another thing, my dear.
                      — Oooh…
                      — You also wanted me to make sure you understood what I meant.
                      — Ahahaha, I see. Wiggling out won’t be as easy as I thought, Janice said with a smile. So, is it the reason for this classroom?
                      — Nothing is hidden from you, as always.

                      So Janice took a look at the sheet of paper on top of her own school desk.

                      — I’ll be around if you need me, reassured Cyprus.
                      — Thank you, said Janice

                      The paper was like a spot test, with a few questions on it.

                      :fleuron2:

                      Study on a Few Contradictory Beliefs

                      1. GUILT

                      a. An old lord has lost contact with his son, because of harsh things said in the past.

                      Write a short story about him realizing how guilt is not effective, and how past can be changed from the point of present by direct action.

                      b. Detail the main beliefs you can see associated with this action of guilt.

                      2. FEAR

                      a. A man chooses to be disengaging by drowning in a river. During his transition, he faces his fears, helped in that by a friendly spirit. The fears take the forms of a forest of trees, all similar, with branches and malicious roots extending to him. In his previous life, the man thought he was a fool, as an excuse to stand out of the numb crowd. But now he faces this crowd again, only to be able to go on his journey and let go.

                      Write a short paragraph about his journey. Place yourself from the perspective of both him and the friendly spirit guiding him through his fears, and see how he helps himself in realizing he does not need to push the fears away, and that they can disappear easily.

                      b. Detail the beliefs associated with his madness, that he needs to let go of in order to be crossing the forest, and go to the Bridge of Daffoldils that leads to his cave of Self.

                      DUPLICITY

                      In association with the last two examples, detail how duplicity (belief in good versus bad) is influencing of each of the actions, and can be neutralised by accepting self and trusting that you shall not betray yourself.

                      :fleuron:

                      Janice gave her paper to Cyprus, who took it and held it for a moment, evaluating the answers.

                      Cyprus then made it burst into a bluish dancing flame, and when the paper had disappeared, smiled at Janice lovingly.

                      #258
                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        India Louise sat at the end of the extraordinarily long oak dinner table. A tiny figure engrossed in some drawing. The morning sun shone in the window, brightening the otherwise dark room.

                        Lord Wrick walked in, not seeming to see India Louise at first. He held a letter in his hand, and some old newspaper clippings. He sat down heavily at the table, opened the letter, and read it. After reading it, he sat staring into space for a long while.

                        India Louise looked up from her drawing.

                        What is wrong Grandpa? You look sad. She walked over to him and hugged him. See look at this. Look at my drawing of a flower, perhaps that will cheer you up. The painter Bill has been showing me how to use these paint sticks and also how to use my mind to help make the painting have life.

                        It is beautiful India Louise.

                        What did the letter say Grandpa. Why is it making you so sad?

                        It is just an old letter, India Louise.

                        Yes it looks very old. Was it bad news?

                        Just reminds me of things I wish I had said a long time ago, said her great grandfather, Regret is an awful curse

                        The little girl hugged him again. Yes it sounds awful. I think I will draw another flower for you grandpa.

                        He smiled. Thank you India Louise. I will be back soon. I will put the letter away now.

                        Yes, put it away now. I can’t see any point looking at it if it makes you sad, and then come and see the flower I will draw for you.

                        Lord Wrick walked over to the bookshelves and reached up. There was a tin on the top shelf. He opened the tin and got out an old key.

                        He walked down the passage way, to the right and then down some stairs leading to the cellar. There was a door, which had not been opened for some time, and he had to use some force to get the key to work in the lock.

                        The room was dark, musty, mostly full of what would seem to be junk, which had been thrown there when people did not know what else was to be done with it. There was an old chest of drawers against one wall. He pulled open the top draw, fingering gently some of the items, more old letters, a feather, some pebbles, a diary, some old paintings and photos. He knew each object had a life of it’s own, memories which create worlds. He added the letter and the newspaper article.

                        As he left the room, he wondered whether to lock the door again, and decided not to. He had a funny feeling within himself as he made this decision to leave it open, a shift, as though his simple decision had changed things, somehow.

                        Silly old fool he thought, laughing at himself. He would go and see the flower that India Louise was drawing for him.

                        #250

                        The boy was approaching in a manner he obviously wanted to be threatening, but the little girl was still giggling unafraid.

                        He took his most growling voice.

                        “Don’t you fear DRRRAAAGONSS?” he blew in her face.

                        “Hahaha. What’s Dregguns?” she said with difficulties as if it was her first attempt in pronouncing the thunderous name.

                        He took a deep breath as if to answer the question and stopped.

                        She was looking at him with such innocence and friendship in her eyes.

                        “You really don’t know what dragons are?”

                        He drew closer and his gaze changed. And he looked surprised as if he was eventually noticing something important.

                        “Oh hoho! I understand now why you seem such an unafraid little girl…”

                        “I’m not little, I’m five.” she said grumpily. But she laughed as readily after that :))

                        “It appears I’m in the middle of one of your dreams. What’s your name?”

                        “I’m Chiara.”

                        #247

                        “What are you doing?” said the little girl.

                        Getting no answer she asked it again.

                        “What are you doing?”

                        She approached the strange being that was so engrossed in its activity, or maybe it couldn’t hear her, she thought dreamily. She put her hand through the big (what color was that) beast.

                        She thought about that a little and tried to seize one of those big berries.

                        That worked, she could at least grasp one of those, not two, her hands were too small, but one was as big as that ball her father was so fond of playing with… she couldn’t remember what he called it. Well it mattered not, she could grasp one of them :D

                        It was a bit warmer than she would have thought. A bit mushy, and very soft. She had a very pleasant sensation caressing it, it was electric and watery and she laughed.

                        The beast stopped what it was doing. Did it hear her laugh? It began eating the berries again.

                        She stroked the berry and felt the funny laugh emerge from her chest. When it burst out the beast stopped again.

                        “Oh you can hear me laugh!” She said, unaware of her hand gently rubbing the surface of the berry.

                        “Grumpf!” did the beast.

                        Its eyes were beginning to change, from yellow to a kind of blue with some tiny stars in them. The girl giggled and was suddenly face to face with a little boy.

                        “What are you doing here” said the boy.

                        “These are my berries, you can’t eat them.”

                        She was a bit startled by his first words and she already had forgotten the weird beast.

                        “I just wanted to play, they are so soft and they make me laugh.”

                        She couldn’t help another giggle.

                        The boy still seemed wary of her and began to move.

                        #224

                        Grandad! Grandad!, called India Louise to Lord Wrick, running in the old manor, her footstep making creaking and loud noises down the windy staircase.

                        Hilarion Wrick was seated in his favourite armchair, dozing after the hefty meal prepared by Nanny Gibbon, the cat Manfred on his lap.

                        Raising an eyelid, his cheerful wrinkled face smiled at the little girl.

                        — And how can I be of assistance, dear little one?

                        — Grandad, this book is full of wonders, but at times it’s like some characters have their own life, and I don’t always understand what they do… In fact, she added thoughtfully, I don’t understand them most of the time…
                        — Hahaha, laughed the old Lord, but they have certainly their own lives, as they are living in your imagination. What can I explain to you?
                        — Well, let me think.

                        India Louise took a moment, and asked again

                        — For instance, this woman who just run in the cave, she seems to meet many people here, but I am confused. Is she dreaming, or are they real?
                        — Well, as a matter of fact, let me express to you that they are all real, even if you think that she dreams them. However, I am understanding of what you are saying, and I shall acknowledge your perspicacity. These characters are not all from the same areas of consciousness.

                        Here, we will explain for the reader that these books were not unknown to Lord Wrick who had spent lots of time during his youth playing with them. How they were lost and found again is the subject of another story, and we will not divert the reader’s patient attention for much longer on this issue.

                        — Areas of consciousness?

                        — Yes, you see, let me explain. That individual that you call Dory, she is in a physical world. But she is aware, to an extent, of other realities that overlap her own reality. Just as her story overlaps your own reality my dear one.

                        — And Illi? Who is she?
                        — This one is also Dory, but another personality of her, in another time. She has just passed away, quite recently. She is beginning to slowly become aware of that, and she connects with other of her personalities, and at times blends with them, like the other Illi, the cat-like creature, who is still in the physical reality of Malvina’s world.
                        — Mmmm, this is quite intricate…
                        — Hahahaha, yes, it seems so, but it will not be so puzzling when you don’t try to attach your current limited perception to this story. This story is you my dear. You are the story.
                        — Well, and Sanso, and Georges then, are they dead or what? How come Dory can see them?
                        — These ones are special, they have mastered the crossing of the Worlds, and can move through them. They move differently though. Sanso comes from a lineage of an ancient tribe of Zion, and had learn from them how to activate some portals, but only through the physical world of Dory, in their own time. He is not yet aware that he can also move through time as well, or even through other Worlds —worlds that he has no conception of yet.

                        Georges is more consummate in that art. Their meeting is not coincidental. You will see that.

                        — Thank you Grandad, it’s becoming a bit less confusing.
                        — Just flow with the story my little one, don’t hold on too much, or you will find it too difficult, and you will stop to find fun in it.

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