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  • #834

    Five months.
    If he recalled well, it was barely five months (five months and five days perhaps) he’d had that dreamYurick was thinking distractedly, while munching on his toast of vegemoth, crumbs falling in his cup of lotus flavoured tuo-cha.
    Only five months! It had felt like ages had passed, lifetimes even…
    Energy realisations went really fast these days, once the prime idea was here. And for sure it had been floating around for quite some time, but truly it had been a quick birthing, and rather painless too.

    He was suddenly brought to his sense —and a certain idea of reality— when he saw Dory’s chat window flicker. He almost spluttered his tea on the screen as he saw the egg pictures she had just posted on her new social playground. A dark website of kinky appearance, where her new friends would probably guess eggs where her fetish and fifty-seven an exotic tantric position they’d be blissfully whipped with a wisp of fresh nettles to get taught.
    Well energy could take many shapes and forms, and for sure, five months ago, he wouldn’t have guessed one of these forms would be vegemoth and oval-shaped sex-toys.

    Speaking of vegemoth, he smiled as he saw the level of the dark brown salty paste noticeably diminishing in the small jar. Since he and Yann had been initiated by Dory to that strange Australian shamanic drug, and the unknown pleasures and twisted dream and trance induction it provides, they had been surprised to find it legally displayed for sell on their usual store at the exotic-mysterious-and-potentially-lethal-Eastern-products shelf. Along with an even stronger version of it, they’d been told… MARMOTH that Yann had consented they would get after the vegemoth would be eaten.

    Ahahaha… At that rate, that would happen before they know it!

    #823

    It had been more than a week now that Claude had broken loose from one captivity to fall into another.
    Not that this gang of strange shape-shifting magpie beings seemed to consider him a captive, rather an impromptu host that they felt obliged to take care of. But Claude wasn’t duped one moment.

    His precedent prison on Tikfijikoo had been relatively easy to break out from, thanks to that unasked for gift of preternatural strength he had gained from the experiments he had be subjected to. Actually, had he not almost been driven mad from pain, he would have been on the loose earlier. Thank the Magpies for his recovered sanity…
    Security on the island facility wasn’t the highest and most difficult he had been confronted to. They seemed to consider the relative isolation of the island and its deadly sharp coral reef encircling it their main asset in keeping their experiments clear from outside interferences.

    Claude snapped back from his thoughts and gazed fixedly at a tender green sprout at his feet while humming a nursery rhyme. An effective trick.
    He had to be more cautious… He knew they could read his surface thoughts…
    Apparently, he could come and go as pleased him, but as he had tried to find his way back to the island facility, he had discovered that the landscape was changing each time he felt close to it. And soon enough, he was finding himself back to the hidden settlement. He knew enough to suspect his affable alien hosts of playing tricks on his mind to keep him in check. Perhaps they were even bending space around their settlement, as far as he knew…
    Not intrusive, and yet not a very different treatment from the inhumane experiments. Except he had no mummy bandages this time…

    Know thy foe so went the adage, and Claude was determined to know enough about his new captors to escape and complete his mission.
    From what he was guessing, as they had not killed him, they probably would release him (if he was lucky) as soon as their mission would be completed —a mission which was most probably the same as his own. Snatching the crystal skull he knew was there somewhere. He could sense they were after it too.
    He was wondering who had hired them to retrieve the thing. Obviously they were not from the common lot of thieves, most certainly not even from this planet, and anyone who had hired them must have been in dire need of the thing.
    He had been told by the Baron that the crystals were storing ancient vast knowledge and that accessing it had been only possible since a few decades, actually since the discovery of coherent beams of light (laser). But even accessed, the information stored remained vastly incomprehensible, and deciphering it could take another millennium without appropriate knowledge of its holographic proprieties.
    The Baron had told humanity was like a child being given a box of books on relativity… And even the mad transvestite doctor was only toying with the tip of an immense iceberg.

    Those Magpies were far more advanced, Claude could see it clearly, and he wondered how he could outdo them, if that was possible. Quite frankly he didn’t know why they had not yet retrieved it. Perhaps they were having trouble locating it too…
    That would mean he still had a head start, however short.

    :fleuron2:

    A faint barking sound seemed to echo in his head… It was apparently coming from… the gnarled trunk of an old majestic tree… Whispers seemed to come from it too, like a child talking with an adult, and whispers around them…
    The tree seemed wide enough for him to enter into the biggest crack of its bark…
    Could it be one of their secret entrances and exits? There had to be coordinate points were they could get out of this warped space… What was he risking to try?

    #819
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      A man was walking on the narrow path shaded by the tall pandanus trees.

      Mahiliki was coming back from the sawmill where he worked, smiling to the people he met on his way back home. The island of Fikitupi was a small island in the Pacific, and he knew most of the people living around this small corner here.

      An old wizened lady with a toupee was busy weaving pandanus dried leaves into baskets and mats on the front door of her small house, while children were running to and fro among noisy chicken all around the place.
      Mahiliki smiled, fond as he was of Nanaiis, whom all children loved deeply, for she always had new tales for them to hear, and cheering words to share. She was quite intuitive, and had said to him years ago that his new girlfriend wouldn’t stay around and have lots of children.
      He didn’t want many children anyway… but as Nanaiis had said, Vera had left, not without saying she would come back though.
      Mahiliki didn’t count much on it, but he had all the time to wait for her. Life was calm and sweet here, and its appeal was great.

      At a short distance, he could spot the hut of O’panié and Twahissi. They were some funny strange hoots these two. Twahissi was the light-haired niece of O’panié and she was sharing with him her love for otherworldly matters. Twahissi’s parents had left her in his care, when they left to open a shop in the main island of the archipelago, and frankly, Twahissy was far more comfortable staying in Fukitupi where all felt magic to her.

      Mahiliki smiled when he finally understood they were trying to bury something near the culvert on the side of their hut. For apparently no reason, a month or two ago, O’panié had become interested in old papers and had become convinced that the date line was not only passing on the island of Fukitupi, but even more, it was passing right through his hut, and thus might explain his apparent sudden feelings of time loss.
      Some educated people had tried to reason him, but he’d stood fast in his opinion. Sightings of rainbow bubbletons by his niece Twahissi had him convinced even further that there was the possibility to improve this technique of time-travel. For as he crossed the bedroom he could step one day forward or backward! How thrilling it all was!
      Guess only the Elders knew what he was trying to bury now…

      Mahiliki could not but agree with him, as they were giving the whole village some pleasant laughing, and he had to admit that his enthusiasm was winning him more and more people to his quest. He wondered what sweet Vera would think of all of that, Cartesian as she was…

      #1755

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        I guess this falls under the category of syncs, though I’ve not yet found all of the implications of this yet…

        In the various extremely interesting and profound articles I found while browsing the news this morning, I found an intriguing article (FR): “She punches a snake with her bare hands!”. (they could have say “with her bare feet!” or better, “with her bare tits!”, that would have sounded more dramatic, and would have sold best… those wannabe journalists ;)) )

        Anyways, it tells the vibrant story of a woman named Ruth Butterwurth (sounds like our dear Mrs Butterbutt to me) who punched a python to rescue her kitty from its clutches (well no clutches really, fangs at best) of the monster.

        The article (which was posted the 23 rd of March, at 14:23, while it’s seems relatively old news) gave a link to a flickr photo with… guess what was on the same page, besides the Nanapython?

        A lemur, an antelope (looking a bit like a :goat: :yahoo_oh_go_on: ) and a lynx :cat_happy: too. :spider: :y_orly: :yahoo_big_hug:

        On the python article:

        In Greek mythology Python was the earth-dragon of Delphi, always represented in the vase-paintings and by sculptors as a serpent. Pytho was the chthonic enemy of Apollo, who slew her and remade her former home his own oracle, the most famous in Classical Greece.

        Mmm, Mrs Butterbutt and draggies? :detective:

        #1429
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          And 111 more now, which totals an interesting amount of 1222 comments.

          Guess who?

          (hehehe, and that’s the 12-23 rd )

          #746

          My God, what the fuck is that?

          Veranassessee sighed, seeing the two plump lady on top of one another, lying sprawled all fours on the ground, with the door blown out in shards.

          Untie me Gabriele, so that I can ask for the nurse’s help. she said reluctantly to her partner, seeing with a bit of dolefulness, the effect of their strange erotic games already waning off.

          — Are you alright ladies?
          — Oh, I guess so, Vessie, sorry to have interrupted, we thought…
          — Yes, yes… Veranassessee was feeling oddly detached from the women’s babbled and muddled excuses, and even more detached from her own sloppy appearance.
          All she could think at the moment was that she seemed fated to marry Mahiliki, and get loads of children on Fukitupi, a doom that hovered on her head like a rapacious magpie over a precious gemstone…
          Good thing she was so gorgeous she would look great even wearing a potatoes sack. Sure Gabriele had noticed that already…

          Arch-Agent Gabriele came back, telling her he had called nurse Bellamy on the intercom, and she would be here in a minute.
          I’ll go to my room dear, we’ll talk later about Barbella. he said casually, a convenient code for “plan B” between them two.
          Professional as he was, he had also, V’ass noticed, as the women were untangling themselves, made the box and the silky rope very stealthily disappear.

          Sure, they would have more time in the evening. But now, she noticed she’d been a bit too lax on the security around the new guests. Fine that Dr Bronkelhampton’s recommendations were to have the patients free for the first months of their treatments (after all, the more drastic transformations never occurred before the thirteenth week), but she had to be more careful about them.
          She could not have them compromise “plan B”.

          B as Barbella… or rather…
          B as Bee-hive.

          :fleuron:

          — Did you hear like me, Glo?
          — I think so, Sha
          — What’s that Barbiella, Glo?
          — Barbella, Sha, barbella, like barbell… Could be a woman’s name…
          — Poor Vessie seemed so annoyed by the incident…
          — Yes Sha, we have to help her somewhat, if we want her to forgive us
          — Sure, we’ll find something to do, Glo.
          — Yes… I don’t like that Barbella. Perhaps it’s the man’s…
          Gabriele
          — Yes, Sha, Gabriele —does sound Italian, doesn’t it?
          — I was about to tell you Glo
          — Perhaps that’s Gabriele’s wife…
          — Or some kinky sadomasochistic practice we never heard of…
          — Rhooo, Sha, chuckled Gloria, who was thinking of Veranassessee’s dress and wrists tying games…

          #745

          Arona, my dear?

          The silky voice of Malvina resounded in Arona’s ear, while she was meditating on the implications of the story Vincentius had told her.

          — Yes?
          — May I borrow you Buckberry and your sabulmantium for a few moments?
          — Oh sure, no need to ask… Though I don’t think you require my permission for Buckberry, isn’t he free as I am?
          — Oh yes he is, exactly as you said, free as you are

          Arona could have sworn she felt a winking energy rippling through her flesh, making some unfamiliar electrical currents crawl underneath her skin. She would have said she was thoroughly disliking it, though she wasn’t really sure if she was.

          — Oh, Malvina added as if an innocent afterthought, we are moving by the way, perhaps you may find interesting to join us for the homationing ceremony. You may learn some more about your sabulmantium.
          — Well, why not, answered Arona having no idea of what a homationing ceremony could be…
          — Very well, please join us in the main entrance, where I am playing the harp. We will be waiting for you.
          — I’ll be there in a second.

          So, they were moving? Speak about implications… Arona muttered, stroking dozing Mandrake, who had feasted on too many of the moorats crawling inside the moisteous cave tunnels.
          I guess I’ll take this astounding elan as a hint that I’ll be going alone she said. A yawn for all answer.
          Considering it was Mandrake, that was almost a mark of distinctive affection… or was it rather of affectionate distinction?

          Moving? She didn’t want to move, not yet, not like that… And to be honest, with all the stuff in that cave, she sure didn’t want to help pack all of this, be it by magic. What an impossible task.

          Vincentius the nanny was taking care of Yikes, so she was confident should anything happen, he would be alright.

          :fleuron:

          On the outside of the cave, the dragons were all lined up, as if waiting for some unknown signal. Leormn first in shades of teal, and his spawns, Buckberry, with the most florid and baroque hues of purple that one could imagine, and the two facetious Heckle and Jeckle in shades of emerald, looking unusually calm.

          Malvina, with Leo the little marmoset on her left shoulder, was playing her harp, while Irtak was accompanying her playing a mouth harp.
          Some drums had been disposed around, and quite naturally, Arona felt like beating the measure on these, getting slowly and slowly relaxed by the music and guttural sounds produced by the throat singing dragons.
          She almost laughed and broke the meditating pattern when she let the memory of Sanso come into her awareness. What a shame he’d missed that, that would have fitted him better than her.

          Slowly the sounds stopped, and Malvina very gracefully rose from her stool, and greeted Arona with a loving hug. Her flowing robe was a tender orchid hue with laces of thistle pink, and her silvery peach long flowing hair were giving her the aura of a princess.

          — Wait, where are Georges and Salome? She said, are they already gone?
          — No, they are waiting for us at the new location, she said with a smile… Now, Leormn will start the ceremony.

          Arona almost said Wait again, in anticipation of what was to come, and finally decided to let it flow. The serene look of Malvina and her motherly smile was of a nurturing reassurance.

          Outside, in the grassy lands, the dragons had all grown wings and were apparently ready to take off. A pile of conic shaped dirty sand was standing in front of the entrance, that Arona had never seen before.

          She could feel Buckberry answer her unspoken question without even a word being uttered. It is soil from the cave, and we will use it now.

          Arona watched the dragons rise in the sky full of damp gray clouds, and wondered what they were doing.
          They are doing two things, Arona answered Malvina (again that disagreeable habit of reading thoughts, couldn’t help but think Arona, wishing there would be some World around where such thing wouldn’t be so easy), first they are checking what kind of creature are staying with us and following the movement, continued Malvina, ignoring the remark, and second, they are drawing with that sand from the cave a circle to enclose the area we want to move

          Arona didn’t dare say the explanations were making her even fuzzier, so she nodded as if abreast of what was going on.

          Popping sounds of the dragons blinking in and out to get some more dirt almost made her dizzy, and she forgot the strangest feeling she had when she thought she heard “the area we want to move”.

          — Now, continued Mavina, the sabulmantium.

          The dragons were now all back, and the pile of sand had disappeared.
          Arona’s attention snapped back to herself, and she handed the fine object to the lady. She couldn’t help but notice the glowing eyes of Irtak, who apparently was very eager to see what would happen.
          So he will move too, she thought, hope his father won’t be too sad… Why did she felt it was a separation from this place she had found she was liking…

          — If you look closely, said Malvina to no one in particular, but Arona took it for herself, you will see how easy it is to come back if you feel so inclined.

          At her touch, the coloured sands in the sabulmantium’s transparent dragon shell globe started to move. And all could see the cave being formed, with all the little people, dragons, glukenitches and even Leo and Mandrake… They were all here, enclosed into a circle of sand.

          — Now, if you will follow me… said Malvina who traced on the ground a curvy symbol.

          And very slowly, as the whole sand scenery inside the sabulmantium was turning in a round, they all felt as though they were dissolving into the air. Yet, they were all solid, and the interior of the cave was still too.
          The only thing that was moving was the exterior, twirling and changing, getting out of focus, and moving erratically at the beginning, and then getting close to a focal point. Some fine tuning was occurring.

          And in a snap,
          The landscape
          Was
          In all its splendor…

          — Greetings! a smiling couple at the entrance of the cave said to the people inside.

          #725
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            After a long but uneventful ride in the yellow gondola cab, Becky stepped out onto terra firma and strolled through the park.

            Various fleeting images of the wedding party flashed through her mind, and she recalled the change in Elvira after the meal. She certainly tucked into that reindeer stew, Becky mused, Had a right good scoff, she did. Funny, anyone eating four helpings of that slop would be expected to slump in a chair for an hour or two, but Elvira had sprung into life. She looked pretty good for 121 years old, but who would have guessed what a splendid dancer she was! She put the younger guests to shame with her fancy steps, and tireless enthusiasm.

            And not only that, she’d really come into her own when the drunken fights started, fearlessly breaking up fights between men twice her size.

            #1888
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              “He ran down the heart of the old midway, where the weight guessers, fortune tellers, and dancing gypsies had once worked.
              He lowered his chin and held his arms out like a glider, and every few steps he would jump, the way children do, hoping running will turn to flying. It might have seemed ridiculous to anyone watching,This white-haired maintenance worker, all alone, making like an airplane.
              But the running boy is inside every man, no matter how old he gets.”

              —Mitch Albom
              from the book “The Five People You Meet in Heaven”

              ~~~~~~~~~~~~

              “I wish that you could see me when I’m flying in my dreams.
              The way I laugh there way-up high. The way I look, when I fly.”

              —Patti Griffin
              “Chief”

              #682

              Looking at the clearing, where there was seemingly only a little girl on the trunk of a cut down coconut tree, Akita found himself puzzled. A girl, alone, in that dangerous jungle… Might it be a trick from his old enemies? The giant spiders were vicious, and could play some tricks of mind on humans, he’d witnessed before he’d run into Kay, who was granting him some sort of protection. But as far as he knew, they couldn’t do anything that elaborate. They were rather primitive in their projections, and were more inclined to slimy nightmarish visions than cute little dark-skinned girls, however untidy were her clothes…
              Besides, Kay seemed to trust her. And she could see him too. Usually, humans other than partners of spirit dogs couldn’t see them, but at times before they reached puberty, children were able to get glimpses of them, Kay had explained him.

              Apparently either the girl was a simpleton, or she had an impossible chance not having yet encountered the spiders, being as she were, pretty oblivious to what was around her, and speaking to herself or imaginary friends, while fiddling with a small device the like of which Akita never had seen in his life. The thing was making beeping noises much like a radio emitter, and his heart leapt at the idea that she might break some god-sent transponder found in the wreckage from which she surely had been a miraculous survivor…
              Kay, who had been observing and talking to the little girl, came back near Akita in a blink.

              — Don’t worry for that device, it’s just a game…
              — A game? It seems quite sophisticated for a game…
              — It’s my Gamegirl Advanced, said the girl, without detaching her gaze from the tiny screen… But the batteries will soon be dead, she added with a lovely pouting face.
              — Better the batteries than you, retorted Akita. So who are you? You can call me Akita… And I guess you’ve already met Kay.
              — I’m Anita, but everybody calls me Anu.

              She put the tiny thing at her side, and smiled broadly at Akita.

              — Wow, you have such strange clothes, it’s like you’re out of one of those black and white war movies that my father used to watch…
              — No wonder, little girl, we are at war.
              — I’m not a little girl, and I don’t think you’re right. We’re not at war!
              — That was probably well intended of your parents to hide you the truth, but thing is we are. I’ve been stranded on this island for months now with these loathsome creatures, and all I can suppose is that these spiders are secret weapons from the Nazis.
              — Oh, Nazis? Like in Indiana Jones! Anu started to giggle…
              — What do you mean? So you know of Nazis?
              — Sure, my great granddad fought them on the beaches of Normandy, that was many years ago.
              — I don’t understand… Do you have any idea of what’s going on? Akita asked Kay
              — Grwl… All of your human quandaries don’t usually make a great deal of sense to me, if you ask me, but I guess her friends would probably know more…
              — Her friends? You mean, her imaginary friends?
              — Oh they are not imaginary, Anu and Kay chorused.

              — Let me try something, Kay said.

              And the ghostly dog form contours started to wobble like a poked cube of jelly, becoming a single ball of phosphorescent ectoplastic energy that started to rotate around Akita. Akita’s vision, disturbed by the movements started to blink at a more rapid rate until his peripheral vision started to show some distinct coloured St Elmo’s fires. They were four he could count, at least for the closest ones. At time they overlapped, and when he was focusing on his peripheral vision, he could get more and more stability in these visions.

              Kay had stopped, and was again crouched near Akita.
              — That’s all? Akita asked in dismay…
              — Now you know the trick, answered Kay, almost shrugging…

              — It’s really easy, said Anita, beaming at a disoriented Akita. Also… Yuki told me that apparently time is considerably slowed down on this island. And while a month passes here, ten years pass in the world we come from…

              #657

              — I wonder, Joselito
              — What Paqui?
              — Do you know if our room will have a view?

              Paquita and Jose Maria had boarded an hour ago, and the plane had just taken off Heathrow airport where they had their connecting flight to Sydney (with a stopover at Tokyo) where they would finally take a tourist plane for the main Pacific island of the Tikfijikoo Archipelago.
              There had been some fuss about a lady who was called to the gate. No wonder she got lost, Jose was thinking, with that strange numbering of gates… Any sane person would lost his or her bearings…
              By a strange coincidence, the lady was seated on their row, and Jose Maria and Paquita had exchanged a surprised look when they had heard the name. At first they had thought that the “Ms Mavis Staples” the air-hostess was calling every minute was the same singer they were very fond of…

              She had finally arrived, a plump sweating embarrassed woman, apologising at every steward, and looking at her sandals in a sheepish look… As soon as she had taken her seat, she’d said “excuse me” to the couple, apologising again that it was her first time in a plane and that she would likely be sleeping through the trip. A few seconds afterwards, she’d been putting on her eyes a huge yellow hand-knitted blindfold drawn from the depths of her behemothic wicker handbag with pink cats and roses decorations, and in a matter of minutes had been snoring loudly.

              Exchanging another look of surprised consternation, Paquita and Jose Maria shrugged and almost burst out giggling.

              — Oh look! whispered Paqui
              — What? mumbled Jose who was starting to doze off
              — A brochure of Tikfijikoo… Here, in her handbag…
              — Oh dear… I guess we’ll be traveling together for another bunch of hours… sighed Jose

              #1609

              In reply to: Synchronicity

              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                funny synch today at lunch, i was out with a friend. We got table number :calendar: so I thought of Jib, and then the people at the next table got 23 .. (I guess Tracy you were too busy conferencing to attend lunch :yahoo_phbbt:). Then someone sneezed really loudly so I thought of my conversation about sneezing with Jib and the Holy Water, then Love Potion Number 9 started playing. :yahoo_oh_go_on:

                Eric Lemoine: we can make some commerce of pure distilled Ephy bottled love, we could call that … mmm Love n° 5

                #622

                Somewhere during the 23 rd century

                “aaa AAAA AAAAA Tcheeeew !”

                “Hiiiiii?! Oh Fracking NOOOoooo!”

                The shriek had been heard in the whole facility.

                Phefia Beryl was the first on the spot where Vinya Grey had been playing so exuberantly with her vocal chords.

                — Vinnie? Are you alright?… What just happened?
                — Oh, Pheffy… I think I made an awful blunder…
                — What do you mean?
                — You know, my last experiment?
                — The g…
                — Yes!
                — What?!
                — They poofed away…
                — Away?… You mean, all of them? Oh bugger…

                :fleuron:

                A few minutes later, Vinya and Phefia were around a white table sucking on straws picked into white and red polystyrenoid balls.

                — Vinnie, you look terrible… That last geomagnetic storm had not done very good on your DNA I’m afraid.
                — And the worse is that each time I sneeze, I blow up wormholes… I thought it would go better very quickly, but last one was big and lasted long enough to let the whole experimental herd wander off in another time/space and/or dimension…
                — Yeah, that’s pretty bad… But wherever they went, they probably will die very soon… Imagine… With their stiff legs anytime they see something frightening, I guess a mere mapgie could easily have them for dinner…
                — Such a pity… I was close to doing something great with them… When we discovered these fossilized blue spiders, I knew it was the first step.
                — Bwah, this rehydrated frogrog is the grossest thing I’ve ever drunk… But yeah you’re right, the first results were very promising. The spiders venom could provoke very random and deep mutations.
                — And all we needed was a little more control on the direction of the mutations.
                — Anyway they’re just goats… You possibly can’t have breached a cosmic law with a handful of GOATS
                — Hope so Pheffy, hope so…

                :fleuron2:

                San Demangelo, 1848

                Elroy was laughing… Hey Joe, Twi! he shouted A letter from Uncle Ernie!

                — Uncle Ernie? How’s the old bat doin’? asked Twilight
                — He’s sending his greetings for the new year, and babbling about last dead people in the neighborhood. But there’s something funny. He’s saying that he’d just acquired some funny goats. Like popped in, out of nowhere. At first he’d thought of a joke, but apparently no one’s been claiming them. He’d thought them dead, they were a dozen laying stiff on the ground, but when they started to wake up, they went down again like broken dolls. Apparently the magpies on top of the tree had been scaring them. Ahaha… Where does he get such strange stories…
                — Well, magpies are scarey, Twilight said meaningfully, with a side glance at Joe
                — Whatever… At least he’d been giving us a good laugh. He’s saying he’s gonna breed the horny beasts, and start a Fainting Goat Fair (or FGF) in Marshall County. Perhaps we could get there next Thanksgiving…
                — Depends when the Freak Show’s coming to town, mused Twilight, I hope to see them soon…

                #517
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  oh, well, it should be Jo, without an “e” I guess, said Tina. Hmmmm shall we just delete it then? It’s ages since I have deleted anything, and we can’t have it not making sense, she added, trying to keep a straight face. :face-plain:

                  #1591

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    Twila Ivy sent me an email this morning. Trying to sell me drugs :yahoo_shame_on_you:

                    poor girl, I guess the dancing didn’t work out :yahoo_rose:

                    #1409
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      I guess the article was not as big as her tits ;))
                      (bit rude to her tits :p)

                      #1397
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        You’ll notice that it works better when there is interesting content. Like on Armelle’s thread of meditation, dreams, syncs and thoughts , there are advertisements on how to get abundant, and on philosophy, and reality creation and such… It’s quite impressive.
                        Guess we will be bound to Guinness advertisements here ;))

                        #403

                        November, 1 st 2057

                        Sean took another glass of scotch to give him some courage to call.

                        — It’s your twelfth now, that’s supposed to give you courage
                        — Oh, Maggie, my live is such a mess…
                        — It’s not, and you know it. Look at all our beautiful children, and Becky who went through so much just out of love for you…

                        Sean didn’t know whether he was actually seeing the ghost of his deceased wife, or a projection of her, still alive in another part of the Universe, but she always had been a comforting presence.
                        He had started to see her a few months after her disappearance.
                        Yes, during that T.R.A.P. expedition, yeah, “live-changing experience” they had said… True, too true… Perhaps the electromagnetic field had messed up with his brains, but now he could see her clear as day.

                        That had been a bit freaky in the beginning, and when they made love with Becky, he was a bit anxious to see her appear not invited. But Margaret had been discrete, well mostly. At times, he wondered if she had not sneaked into the bedroom and merged her energies with Becky’s, just to be closer to him… Becky’s acts did not always make sense anyway, so that was hardly a criterion to judge of that.

                        All his live had been like that. A jumble of incoherent stuff. Oh, he had enjoyed it, especially at the beginning. His father Lord Wrick was obsessed with the Shift, and had found some ancient knowledge in his youth. Mostly rubbish by nowadays standards, bunches of rotten books of prophecies handed down to a few chosen ones, who were supposed to be forewarned of doom to come. Now, they knew that they were only a wake up call, but at that time, it was another thing altogether.

                        Of course, the wealth accumulated over the centuries by the Wrick family had been helpful to access these precious archaeological documents. A few of them had played a key role.
                        For instance, the in-extenso Life and Deeds of Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson, a rare version of the diary of Lord Fergusson, annotated by his daughter, Illi, was telling an account of history much different than the one romanced after his death by his wife Floribunda von Grott.
                        Thanks to it, Lord Wrick had been able to acquire some inkling as to ancient treasures. Old fool…
                        It had killed his wife, Artemisia, devastated by the madness of her husband, and it had alienated the other part of the family too.
                        But all that counted was to make the discoveries, and perhaps enlight the masses.

                        Sean had never really forgave his father that he wanted to utilise Margaret and have her fit into his plans of grandeur. Of course, his father had willingly accepted the union, and despite all appearances (for the sake of those rapacious journalists) he had even pushed Sean to do it quickly. But all he was really interested in was her precious discoveries.

                        — Oh, but I was not innocent, Sean
                        — I know Maggie, you were obsessed by what we could offer to you, especially when you read about the botanical experiments in the deserts, which were related in that old book. But still…
                        — We all had grown up through that, you know…
                        — Yes, and what showed me that, was that I was concerned that the old vampire would suck my own children into his web, but Peregrine was too free for that, and Guinevere preferred to live her live outside of this madness too.
                        Becky had a good influence. Do me a favour, be kind to her.
                        — You know what?… Yes of course you’d know,… but let me tell you, so that we can laugh together… I found myself really happy and free when I stole the two magical books out of the Old Fool’s clutch. God knows how he acquired them, but one thing was sure, he was obsessed with them. I couldn’t get the mummy, but the books were a great take.
                        — And a funny idea to give them to your cousin…
                        — Yes, Dorean was the perfect person. I couldn’t leave them anywhere, my father would have found them again. At least he wasn’t in good terms with his brother and sister-in-law, so they were safe in their care. And at least, they were more grounded than my father, the perfect keepers for the books… I’m wondering what happened to them…
                        — That will upset you, but Perry’s twins got them.
                        — Oh really?
                        — Yes, and they are having fun with them, as was intended.
                        — That’s fine then, and we are less obsessed now than we were before, so I guess my father isn’t as much as a pain in the butt as he was…
                        — You father meant good
                        — Yes, like everyone, but why can’t we leave people alone at times? People can sort out their issues without the commiseration, and the good intentions… It’s poison even worse… Like I can drink and still be healthy, and nice, and…

                        Sean started to sob.

                        — I know, darling, but you’re as much of a sore as your father was… You focus so much on what’s not going right, and you don’t even appreciate that you can talk with your departed wife… That was nothing as easy in the old days.
                        — Do you think my father talks with mum to?
                        — I think he would be too proud to admit he is sorry… That may hinder the communication… But Arty wouldn’t bear grudge now. When we let go of the physical, things become so clear, we can only be accepting of everything. Perhaps you prefer to wait for your father to cross over? I can tell you something, that won’t be easier. That much I know.
                        — You’re right. It’s just that I don’t know how to start…
                        — Be yourself, talk about what you enjoy, where is your passion now… Perhaps that is the problem. You’re drowning your passion in your scotch.
                        — You’re right… I’ll tell him Léan will have a baby.
                        — Oh, he’ll love it!
                        — How time flies… sighed Sean, I still remember the little sweetie as a blue-eyed laughing baby herself, with Oliver and Illana. She was the only one of the triplet to have inherited her mother’s dark complexion. She’s so beautiful…
                        — Let’s call your father darling
                        — Yes, let’s call him.

                        ***

                        Lord Wrick had not expected to received that call. Well, he had renounced it so long ago.
                        He had been a bit shaken, but also relieved. He had proposed, on an impulse, to invite that whole part of the family he barely knew, Sean’s new partner, and all their children for next Christmas in the castle. Sean had told him they would probably come with Becky but that the children were now having their own lives, and it would have to be for another time.

                        ***

                        Lord Wrick went to see Bill, who was now painting the portraits of Peregrine and Linda in the veranda.
                        He would probably have to stay longer, to paint a lot of new family portraits.

                        That probably would come perfectly, as ever, as the Lord could tell India Louise loved to spend time with the painter. Perhaps she would become an artist too… :sumari:

                        #369

                        These guests have been once again distracted on their way to the party… Malvina was thinking, munching some raisins for her stomach was growling now.
                        Perhaps they were gathering more guests along the way, the cave was so full of surprises.

                        Oh yes they are, said Leörmn, they have now a little Ugling boy in their care… It’s like this young woman has truly a golden heart…
                        Aaaand, added Leörmn with a mischievous smile, I guess this unlikely couple with a baby will probably have some surprises in spare for us,… notwithstanding the fact that the cave’s tunnels are already steamy anyway.

                        Malvina caught off guard, almost rolled on the floor laughing at the unexpected probability that had surfaced in her mind, and blurted out a swear word “Boston!”

                        #329

                        Becky wondered why Finn kept calling her Dory. It didn’t matter though, it was always fun chatting with Fiona (or Finn as she now liked to be called), and Finn was always calling her different names. Becky rather liked it.

                        The thing is, Finn, Dory tapped into the keboard, when they’d finished laughing, As everyone knows, There Are No Secrets.

                        finn_tastic57: HHMMM :yahoo_thinking:

                        becdorsansilli: :yahoo_at_wits_end:

                        finn_tastic57: This is a clue, you know. We should be able to just ‘know’, you know, just access the info :yahoo_idk:

                        becdorsansilli: I wonder if these whispers are secret?

                        finn_tastic57: I guess the group admin can access them

                        becdorsansilli: well
                        becdorsansilli: we wil go public to save him a possible moral dilemma :yahoo_rofl:

                        Becky was even calling herself Dory now, she noticed. That Finn was a bad influence.

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