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  • #304

    Írtak was playing with the dragon twins in the carved woodstones field. It was mostly faced shaped petrified wood that had been carved surely when it was still wood. The faces were quite hypnotic and made him feel often sleepy, but with the dragons he was feeling all his senses enhanced and sharpened. :face-glasses:

    The dragons were growing fast, hatched only a few days ago, they were already bigger than his father… He knew from Malvina that they could take whatever form they wanted, but he’d always thought that their power were developing from nothing to … something… but apparently they were already fully aware. Their leather skin was glowing emerald green, blended with some purple pink shades, or was it the contrary. It was changing so quickly. He was wondering what they were eating, because he wasn’t the one who was giving them any food. And still they were so big.
    Did they have a “real” form? Whatever that meant.

    One of the dragon gave him a mischievous glance and before he could anticipate what would happen, he was facing a growling troll :yahoo_time_out:. The troll was running right to him, seemingly crushing with his heavy body all the fragile woodstoned faces.

    All his attention was on the troll and he didn’t hear the man coming.
    And now the troll was freezed running and jumping forever… Írtak’s head was like a big storm of boulders falling from the sky. Growling, drumbling apart…

    — You have strange games with your dragons.
    — …

    He was gaping at the man… his skin was bluish with pink also and sometimes a bit of yellow.

    — Who are you?
    — Don’t you recognize me? :face-grin:

    Írtak tried to remember something. had he ever met that man before?

    — Oh right, it’s our first meeting… from your point of view. I’d forgotten that. But you see, for me our first meeting is in your future.
    — …

    Írtak was still gaping at the man, this strange skin of him, it was so ambrulin, that color he’d already see somewhere… was it in a dream?
    The man looked at him, and he felt for a moment a warm fuzzy feeling in his body… not particularly located in any part of it… and he would have… no, it was even in the woodstoned faces around him… how could he feel that?

    — Your dragons are wanting to take part in the fun, the man smiled. I’m going to let them go, as I’m not staying either.
    — Who are you? managed Írtak.

    :yahoo_alien:

    — I’m your father…
    :yahoo_alien:
    HAHAHAHAHAH! No actually that’s a private joke… I’m Andrimiñ (AndruhMiiñ?) we’ll meet again in a few years of your time. Your dragons are really interesting then, and so are you.

    Saying that, the time began to flow again in the right direction, the troll was still running toward him, but he suddenly slowed down and stopped, shape shifting into a bluish boy, with a face so similar to Andrimiñ.

    — Where’s the funny man? he said.

    #303

    Becky woke up in a sweat. Her bedclothes were tangled and what remained of her pillow was on the floor. The room was full of downy feathers.

    Sheesh, said Becky, pushing sweaty strands of hair out of her eyes and reaching for her cigarettes.

    What a dream! Wow, I wonder what that witch did to deserve that! Becky couldn’t quite believe she’d had such a violently aggressive dream. All she could really remember was attacking a witch, and slapping her repeatedly, and punching her, screaming all the while DON’T…EVER….DO THAT AGAIN Wangwangawanga…… DON’T DO IT wangawanga… then the witch had turned into a goose, but still Becky kept punching her, causing the poor gooses feathers to fly everywhere, and all the while Becky kept shouting WANGAWANGAWANGA……

    I can’t believe I did that, even in a dream! Becky hated violence so much that she walked out of the room if a violent scene was showing on the television, and she loved witches and geese.

    That poor goose! Becky decided to go back into the dream, to smooth what was left of the gooses ruffled feathers, and apologize.

    She stubbed out her cigarette, and settled back against the pillows and closed her eyes. Now the goose was looking at her reproachfully, in between straightening her plumage, and huffing and tutting a bit.

    I’m awfully sorry about that! I don’t know why I did it. Becky hoped it was a forgiving kind of goose, and not a vengeful one.

    It matters not, I suppose, grumbled the goose, I must have created being slapped around by a sweaty madwoman, though gawd knows why.

    Were you a witch in another focus? Becky asked. Because I was angry with a witch initially, not a big white goose and I don’t know how I came to be pummeling you. Come to think of it, I don’t know why I was attacking the witch either. The witch did look unpleasant though, but you look nice enough….

    Well I don’t look very blimmen nice with my feathers in this state, dearie! And don’t remind me of that dratted witch focus, gawd, I was horrid. Not surprised you lashed out at that one!

    Becky started to relax. Things were looking promising. The goose was turning out to be rather sweet.

    But as you can see, continued the goose, I am not a witch, I am a big white goose now, a rather sweet one too, even if I do say so myself, so let’s hear no more about it.

    Becky smiled broadly at the goose. I appreciate that very much! Oh by the way…what’s your name?

    Angela, answered the goose, Angela Wing.

    REALLY? Becky said, rather rudely, and then caught herself and said: Angela! What a lovely name! Angela Wing, would you like to be in our play?

    #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.

    #1308

    In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      September 24 th

      Quintin remembered a snapshot of the notes that Dory had taken during her first trip to the Madagascan caves, a year ago.

      Relevant extracts:

      At one moment, I saw some hooded figure in the sideways tunnels… He vanished on the left, couldn’t follow him…
      […] HE KNEW HIS WAY INSIDE !
      When he vanished, I had the vision of something, […] like the layout of a labyrinth, of cave tunnels — that are all underground and the many entrances are all over the world… PORTALS
      focus opening/doors ; time/space…
      The central cavernous part is some kind of key center, where anyone can meet…

      This has inspired Quintin to write some notes too.
      He has the vision of these portals organized as clusters, like a tree, with branches and leaves… I will send him a more detailed image, but that may take him some time to digest!

      September 26 th

      The latest additions to the story have inspired Quintin. He had some inkling of how “essence” (or what is somewhat referred as “oversoul” ) and all the “focus” of essence (or lifetimes) interplay, and are not as separate as they sometimes seem to be.

      Here would be what we will say to him, if he wants to listen:

      « Now, terminology can become tricky as, for much time, you have been accustomed to be considering of your experience as the projection of that of an “essence”, somewhat separate from you, the lowly focus.
      Of course, you pretend the contrary, and become quite nifty in brandishing sentences like “I am essence, and I create all of my reality”, which you are and do actually, but that you do not always believe and trust.
      These terms of “essence” and “focus” were given to you as means for you to better understand the interplay of consciousness. In the beginning of the acquaintance with these new terminologies, you have felt them remotely blurry and unrelated to previous concepts, which was the intention. But now, you once again objectify your understanding in something too rigid at times, and that little story is giving you a hint of what your real power is.
      And you begin to really experience it, and really pay attention.

      « As was expressed many times, “essence” is no thing. It is an action.
      The “essence” is each of you, that very portion of you that you feel when you slide your attention into the comment box.
      In that, your purpose, you see, is only to experience, nothing more, nothing less.
      And then time, as you know it, becomes irrelevant, you see. Your natural time is expressed through you and your explorations.
      Notice how playfully, as essence (essence playing focus or focus playing essence), you let your natural time unfold, and at times find some strange weather pattern in your awareness that needs clarification. As essence, you playfully find the most perfect habits [shapes and clothings] to wrap around you, and continue your story.
      Just as your dreams at night overlap and blend into each other.
      Just as Rafaela created new focuses [Sam and Becky] to continue to play and make the story expand for all of the other focuses, Dory included.

      « That “I” of you is ever present, and is reflected perfectly in others’ perceptions, as you are drawing them to you purposefully. Do not brush aside their adjuncts, for they are also you, having moved your pawns forward, so to speak, through their moves.

      « Thus understand that the story is a continuous stream reflecting the essence that is you, and your travel through the various guises you borrow.
      In that manner, it does not matter how much sense it makes in linear terms. Because, in a way, it can’t make sense in these linear terms.

      « Let us explain this in other terms.
      When you found difficulties in understanding the “scheme” so to speak, the figure that is drawn by the participants, it is because you apply the linear understanding of what such a scheme should be.
      In that, you only perceive the “plot” as a succession of dots without a continuity, whereas the continuity is to be found in the other stories interwoven.
      You are accustomed to stories where a single individual is enacting throughout the play, in a linear continuous fashion. The individual goes through many different actions, but is always the same in your perception.
      Here, the tricky thing is to notice the continuity throughout the various habits [clothings] taken by the essence(s). It matters not that the essence takes that guise of say, a pirate sailing on high seas, just after having been an old crafty Lord in his windy castle. The underlying aspects of his exploration has been continuous and coherent: in this case, exploring and making sense of one’s exploration. It is just that a certain appearance has been perhaps more fitting to express certain aspects or qualities of essence, but the exploration has been one, throughout the entirety of the experience.

      « We will let you ponder this, and we will continue our own story, writing about you… »

      September 28 th

      This sand symbol that Quintin has brought up seemed to have come from many directions at once. Each character has connected it, in various ways.
      Armelle (Arona) to her magic, Rafaela (Becky) to her collecting customs, etc. etc.

      Let us say that this symbol is not as innocent as it may seem. There are lots of associations with sand.
      It is solid, yet fluid. In association with water, it can be used to build, and also to erode. It can shift into many forms, one of which is your glass, and your electronic components.
      And most of all, it is, after your very oxygen, the most abundant constituent of your reality.
      It is almost limitless in your understanding.
      As is your magic.

      This magical device we made Quintin see in a visualization is an analogy of your very action of creation as essences.
      The sand which molds itself to make forms and shapes in three dimensions is in fact likened to your consciousness. Each grain of sand represents your links of consciousness that bind together to do your command.
      The shapes are moved by your essences, in which you may see that the essence is no thing at all, but is a continuous stream of action, not separate from others’.

      As Quintin said to Fiona, some individuals do differently when they create and shape their sands.
      In analogy with the coloured sands, some people like Quintin enjoy using other people’s colours in shaping his own characters, while some others prefer to keep their own colours, to create a more definite sense of individuality. But they integrate the others’ movements and shapes nonetheless, regardless of how much they perceive it to be coming from them.

      With that said, let us see how much more will appear from that sandbox…

      September 30 th

      The Wrick family tree as it is now (or “will be” drawn around the time of the twins in 2057).

      The Secret Life of Margaret Wrick , a newspaper cut from 2033.

      October 7 th

      The dragon Naasir’s dream
      A panorama illustrating the portals between the worlds created by each of the participants… But who is dreaming, really?

      And an illustration of Chiara’s encounter with the glutton “dreggun” Buckberry

      #220
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        Arona stood up, rather to Mandrake’s annoyance, and took off her heavy cape. Wondering for a moment what to do with it, for she really did not want it anymore, she noticed a coatstand.

        well how handy is that she thought, hanging it up and giving it a last fond stroke.

        There were three tunnels out of the cavern she was in and without hesitation she took the one on the left, but she knew she could have taken any of them and everything would be perfectly fine, because that was the beauty of magic.

        so easy really she thought.

        #214

        Speaking of dreams, Quintin suddenly remembered he had dreamed of a woman detective, by night, near a museum in London, in the 1920s. She was investigating a case of a strange disappearance near a small replicate of an Egyptian pyramid that had been put here for display. There had been an exposition of ancient artifacts in the museum, which had been recently unearthed by a team of archaeologists and graciously lent by Egypt’s officials.

        Strangely enough, he felt the woman detective was linked to the story, and was in fact Dory. He could feel the other participants were people closely related to the woman too…

        He didn’t really expect Dory would be giving him her two pence on this quaint dream…



        Actually, thinking of Dory made Quintin remember a notepad photocopy that she had sent him last year when she had been in Madagascar for the first time, visiting some local caves. He never actually gave much thought to these funny drawings, but now they seemed to have some kind of interesting connection to all of this…

        #188

        This morning, Fiona and Quintin had a small impromptu chat —or rather, prompted by the story they were all weaving, that Archie, the puppet black panther, had been telling them last week-end that it was a magic connection between all of them…

        Quintin: Your story was great!

        Fiona: Thank you :) So was yours.

        Have you written any more since I last looked at the story?

        Quintin: no, I’m not that much inspired… I even considered to wrap in up in a way, but seeing you were all drawing so much from it, I think I will leave it open ever after…

        Fiona: no, wrap it up if you feel.

        I have drawn what I wanted. I will go and blow up the cave if we don’t finish it :)

        Quintin: Ahahaha! Don’t restrict yourself ;)

        Fiona: When you started the Malvina story, did you have an idea where it would go, or did you pick that one because you had no idea?

        Quintin: This one nagged me because there were many people I felt behind it and I did not know how to get them to show up and make their presences known. And I felt that it was loose enough too, to allow people to jump into it; and there was your initial interest in the picture ;)

        Fiona: The endearing dragons…

        Quintin: Yeah…

        But I had strictly no idea about the rest. It was just a bet, on luck…

        That’s funny, because I had a strange impression of a little girl yesterday, in a futuristic city, named something like Janice , and it was like she knew now what she wanted to do, and it was something similar to that, something like creating worlds for other people, in which they could have fun, or heal, or explore things…

        Fiona: And did she have any impression of what form that could take? Like books, or games or what…

        Quintin: No, it was much more “real” in fact…

        Fiona: you know like the card-captor game which I suppose is interactive, so real

        Quintin: Yeah, perhaps a bit like that, yes; or like creating a ball of energy in which people can be drawn and experience as they will. It’s only a translation, but that’s the idea… in a way, that’s very similar to a game or a book, but only that it just feels totally “real”

        Fiona: So a little bit like I have done with the story, to resolve something

        Quintin: yeah, exactly, or with your paintings

        Fiona: It can be really useful to take on other personas to do that, even like in drama type situations, being someone else…

        Quintin: Yeah, people can unleash their imagination.

        And I think there are still lots of things that we can expand in this universe in fact, not only related to the cave…

        Fiona: such as? eggsamples?

        Quintin: You said it! The eggs and relationships with dragons, all the magical artifacts or creatures. Didn’t you want a baby dragon?

        Fiona: Yeah, I told you I did, but you just said some riddle!

        Quintin: Did I? That’s not like me ;)

        Fiona: Ahahhaha! It is you to the core

        Quintin: LOL, damn me!

        Fiona: Well, that is a bit strong, but …

        Quintin: Ahahahahah. I said you would have to earn his trust? (or hers, for that matter)

        Fiona: I can’t remember the eggsact wording, I think I had to work for it though, like you weren’t just handing out dragons on a plate

        Quintin: It could bound with you very strongly and help you unravel your unknown magical powers. It’s not just a creature, it’s a complex personality, you cannot just take it like a puppy. There is a sharing between the two…

        Fiona: So are you going to allocate baby dragons to people or what? Or shall I just go and find an egg that no one knew was there :)

        Quintin: Ahahah, no, they will not be allocated, they will choose their own partners

        Fiona: Ahahaha, one minute you say it is my story! And now you are back in control

        Quintin: Ahahaha, the story has a willing of its own too…

        Try to do what you want, it’s not a matter of control ; it’s just you’ll know what clicks and what does not…

        Quintin: And actually, I don’t think everyone will be interested in dragons…

        Fiona: How does a dragon help one learn magic powers?

        Quintin: It’s just because there is an openness between the two; let me find something for you, that Elias (you know, Michaela’s partner), has told to me and Yann, when we had them on the phone last month.

        Elias : I would express to you that, as you focus your energies with each other, and you allow yourselves to merge and feel into each others’ energies, you may in actuality each discover some obstacles that the other may not necessarily be aware of yet, and you can share that with each other, and therefore facilitate your interactions even further.

        Fiona: And how having a baby dragon could help unleash our magic powers then?

        Quintin: It helps because it reinforces your trust in your own abilities to connect. It’s not directing, it’s a sharing and exploration for both of them; that’s why they are picky. As you would be picky too, knowing you would share together all the darkest corners…

        Fiona: I am not sure if i have dark corners ;)

        Quintin: it was a metaphor :D

        Fiona: ahahahhahahahahahah

        Fiona: I know, so was mine :D

        Quintin: ahahahahah

        Fiona: I was thinking I feel really accepting of myself

        Quintin: Yeah, that’s the point in the little adventure before you meet it.

        You have shown your trust in yourself and in your abilities, and your self-centeredness, which is essential, for the dragon doesn’t want a frail personality. Because he drops his defenses too when he shares and bonds.

        Fiona: Well I think it sounds scarey now, what if no dragon picked me…

        Quintin: There will be instant recognition. And you don’t “need” a dragon actually, that’s what is important: it’s a catalyst, nothing more, nothing less…

        Fiona: True.

        Quintin: Like Arona managed to sneak into the cave without giving the answer to the riddle (egg-sitingly) because it mattered not to her, whatever the outcome, she was directing of herself.

        Fiona: I felt like I have pictures now to assist me. I link strongly to pictures as a quick reference when I start to feel something like a negative emotion, for instance I may start to worry about how I am going to have enough money, or whatever, and I could quickly link to the spider picture

        Quintin: you mean, you create an imagery, right? That is something which I like in your stories and emails; even though it is not necessary to create imagery, it’s always so entertaining, like having these funny creatures pop in the cave!

        Fiona: Ahahahaha yes

        Quintin: And also, in creating imagery, it helps you seeing it in a more neutral way

        Fiona: I suppose it is just a quick trigger for the desired belief. I can link in quickly with the child, when I start to feel left out, for example.

        Quintin: yeah, beliefs as an alphabet or a palette, neutral, but that can create words and sentences or images. And the imagery of the child was very similar for me, to that of the playfulness picture

        Fiona: Yeah, I know… That’s what I said to you with the playfulness picture

        Quintin: Of course, you know :)

        Fiona: That I related most to the figure of blue hat… and big feet

        Quintin: Ahahaha, stomping on the poor key-fish

        Fiona: Nearly…

        Quintin: Have to go now, thank you for this enjoyable conversation

        Fiona: See you! :)

        #160

        Leörmn had been moving along very swiftly, shapeshifting into a tiny weaszchilla so as to move around unnoticed by Arona.

        He had laughed a tiny squeak when he had heard her gasp “Rats”, but it had been muffled down by the flight of the schpurniatz. That was another test for the girl’s endurance, and she had brilliantly passed.

        Of course, as he could change the cave’s tunnels into his mind, he would not have let Avona fall into a pit… Well now that he thought of it, that could have been interesting and quite funny, but she probably wouldn’t have appreciated that kind of humour.

        But the dragon also was not really giving her clues as to how she could perceive the tunnels, because after all, she was also choosing her way, in a sense.

        You are so wicked! laughed the delightful vibrant voice of Malvina in his head.

        Oh yes, he answered mentally, and I see that you enjoy it too

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