Search Results for 'hands'

“Can we go home now?” Arona asked the dragon … “I don’t know what we came here to do, but I miss Buckberry and Yikesy (and his nanny), even old grumpy Mandrake. And it feels like we’ve been gone for months!”

“You’re not interested by knowing more about this place , are you?” asked Leörmn

She didn’t answer lest she might hurt the dragon’s feelings —if he had any, that is.

“Well, I don’t want to get home so soon!” said Irtak who was usually keeping quiet, but obviously was taking it all in here, being on this place like a grake on a lake.

Leörmn took a deep breathe, pondering the situation and the many other probable realities verging on this one, and told Arona:

“I believe there is a cave, at a day of walk from the shore, inside this land. This cave was used by the Guardians, long before you were born, and is known to dragons and nirguals from this time. From this cave, you shall be able to travel where you want. You may even meet the zynder to guide you.”

Arona was thinking that the dragon was surely becoming senile talking all that nonsense she could barely figure out, but she was too considerate to mention it.

“Do you remember your glubolin?” the dragon continued abruptly, but her mind was sharp, and she answered with certainty

“I sure do. Why?”

“Please take a moment to feel the remembrance of it”

Well, sure, if that can please you she had learnt not to contradict old dotty dragons, so she tried her best to remember herself and Mandrake playing with the glowing ball filled with coloured sands ; that would surely not bring her back home, but at least the dragon couldn’t accuse her of not complying.

“Continue…”

As she remembered it, she felt how delicious and strange that object was, and how she’d loved it, and suddenly, it was here. In her hands!

“The old dotty dragon still has a few tricks up its scales, young lady” Leörmn said with a slight smug on his snout (or whatever it is called).

“Oh, that’s all very nice, but what’s the point of dragging this along?”

“It’ll show you where to go” Leörmn answered, “use it as a compass; I’ve imprinted it with the location of the cave, so that you won’t be lost, and can find your way to the cave, or wherever you want to go. We are continuing here with the boys. Have a safe trip. We will meet again.”

Arona blew a kiss in the direction of Irtak and the dragons, and without hesitation went in the direction of the dense tropical forest.

“Well, that dragon is an odd ball, but at least, I don’t have to wait for them to finish whatever they’re doing on that weird place.” Arona was glad to be finally alone for the next days.

“Will she be safe here?” asked Irtak

“I believe she will, she has got resources. Besides, the Murtuane is a place filled with a certain peace and blessed with a slow unraveling of time; it helps take the measure of the events, and find one’s own truths.”

Alizabath Tittler took another draw on her fag of nicoback.
Passing her hand through her wild and matted hair, she noticed there were mare and mare bald patches hare and thare instead of her former lusciaas mane… and her ayes a tad blaadshat, but she trusted she was beautifaal.

Taking another slaarp off her glass of dark red clarat wine —her faarth? she had lost count…— she sighed remembering the gaad old days. Not that she missed her dazen of previaas hubbas, nah.

She was comfartable tonight. Orok the building manager, one had to concede it to him, had decided to heat the building earlier this year, due to the falling temperatures, and it was all very warm and cosy inside. Traath was, she barely wanted to get out of the building at all, having Fannley order Chaanese faad for her, under the pretaxt to fanish her next novel. But end was never nearly in sight.

Her pablisher, Brackel, was still asking her about her next manuscraapt, and Fannley, the claaning-lady of the office (she only figured out recently that she actually was a ‘she’) was thrawing suspiciaas laaks on her every time they met.

All in all, life laaked almost the same. Not the same without a Lemane quote though.
She opened his last baak at random, laaking for a paarl of wisdam.

I think that’s one of the reason why I don’t really appreciate Xmas, because of that sickening tradobligation of buying crappy stuff, but as long as you’re on facegoat, I can send good karma to you.

“Waw!” What an ideaa, this yeaar, she will send gaad karma to her ex-husbaands.

“Anathar wan!” She couldn’t get her hands aff such profaand baak.

Roger-Y, her pet talking white gaase started to screech frantically “Anathar WAN! Anathar WAN!” making her little fainting mongrats collapse to the flaar.

“pftlabaltloup”: that’s the Samari word for what I wanted to say: it may sound a little dismissive, but it’s pronounced fruit-lab-at-loop. Indeed; ‘fruit’ because the emails like snoot fruits, ‘lab’ for the extraction of the quintessence, and ‘loop’ to keep in loop… And we are complete.

“Waw” She was always struggling to kaap in the laap with all her characters; naw, that was something to consider, as she was Samari belonging herself, not at all Vaaldish like her mather. Gad forbads.

It wasn’t very difficult for Akita to have the door opened. Having Kay roam unnoticed in the rooms and corridors next to his cell made things very easy actually, giving him enough time to do his things.
He’d known the art of lock-picking since he was a child, and he would have been able to open that door’s latch blindfolded, hands tied behind his back, with only his big toe and dental floss… so old this one was.

So in a few minutes he was out; a few minutes later, he had found a proper military outfit in the lockers, Kay had been giving him the codes of, and as everyone was gone for the lunch break, the whole area was deserted.

The greenhouse room was open, and a blinding light was pouring into it.

“You didn’t tell me what made these watermelons special” Akita turned to the phantom dog.

“Why don’t you have a try by yourself… Take a little one over there, and throw it on the opposite wall”

Akita did as instructed, then backed off quickly blown off by the explosion .

“Watermelbombs? are you kidding?”

“Not really; it’s sad, but people have done lots of researches here to produce bio-degradable weapons easily grown. I think it wasn’t a coincidence you and the others have been brought here”

“The others? You mean… Oh sh*t, I forgot the ladies, don’t tell me they’re still here?”

“Yep, they are here. And they’re quite ready to fight for their survival too, believe it or not”

“Oh, I don’t have any trouble seeing them as fierce warriors!”

“So, any of you noticed Becky Pooh at the party ?” Al asked Tina and Sam on their way back to their place, waiting patiently for a gondocab in the crowded chilly night.

“Jeeze, with this temperature, they probably will have to get the gondoskaters earlier” Tina managed to say, blowing some air in the hands of her costume. “Well, I’m not sure, though there was some distinct feeling that she was around” she said, going back to the question.

“I don’t know why, but I had that distinct feeling that she was a time-travelling goose” Sam said when their eyes asked about his impressions.
“Well, sounds daft like her, if she tried to pop into that fat lady under the white goose costume with the big watch pocket at the hall” Tina said with a chuckle.

“Don’t laugh at those pop-ins,” Sam said ruefully, “They can really be something!”

Al chuckled with Tina as he was remembering Tina’s uncanny knack for projecting herself temporarily into unsuspicious Lewis-Writton-bags spy-ladies.

“So a goose, eh… why not after all…”

Georges and Salome’s journal

From Salome’s account of her introduction to the Turmak People (Part 3)

Cil and I have stayed on the Murtuane longer than was required for the report on the events occurring here. Though it was not required, it proved invaluable for me to gather much information on both the planet itself, but more important, on the interconnections with the other planets and the Guardians themselves.

A pivotal point in this exploratory mission was the impressive encounter with one of the few still focused Nirguals of this dimension. N’meôrl, as he introduced himself to us, out of concern for the current events came to contact Cil despite his looking askance at the Guardians on the whole.
As it appears to be, due to their acute awareness of how energy can be manipulated to create one’s own reality, some of the Guardians became to view themselves as superior in knowledge and skills as to the other conscious creatures roaming on this dimension —most of whom already having far more understanding of things deemed “magical” in my own earthly dimension of origin. However, viewing themselves as such (though by no means the standards in the Guardians societies) had them manipulate some of these others; mostly to entertain themselves or to experiment, without concern as to the others’ reactions.

Frown upon by many Guardians, this practice was tolerated notwithstanding, and had created a few pockets of what the Guardians called “slaves”. Inquiring to Cil as to how people with such thin veils between their subjective creative source and the objective realizations could become “slaves” to others, she had struggled a bit to explain to me at first. Allowing her to reach into my awareness for associations or analogies with similar energetic displays, she surprised me —surprised is even a mild word for my initial reaction— by telling me it was the same as our religions. Struggling initially to understand her point, I find myself, if not entirely agreeing with it, at least being able to explain what she meant by that. To her, people were ultimately free unless they themselves were tricked into bondage. But bondage could be of various nature, and she continued to explain, physical bondage was the less efficient of all. “Guidance”, on the opposite, with the proper construction of suggestions and beliefs, could yield very efficient results.
So, those “rogue” Guardians were nothing else but priests? The difference between this association and Cil’s distaste for them seemed too strong. Perhaps I would have to reassess my own beliefs.

So, apparently some of these Guardians had been responsible for disturbances. Cil seemed to understand that something grave was happening, but when she tried to explain to me, once again words or clusters of thoughts seemed to fail her. She found in my memory some analogy which seemed again quite besides the point, though very intriguing.
She said it was similar to what our medicine men were doing with their needles. She probably had reached into my memories of traditional acupuncture medicine. She went on to compare the planets as a single body, with bumps and hollows in energy; usually, the body knows how to harmoniously balance both of these, and a bump can reflect into a hollow and vice-versa. Sometimes, when people create illnesses, the practitioner will move these to help. But something else was happening here: the flow was artificially changed, she said.
“What was the point in that?” I asked. She pondered for a moment, then answered without judgment that it was probably for the sake of the experience.
“The Nirgual is mostly warning us that this experience may not lead to an equilibrium before long. That it may profoundly modify the energy on the planets, and not for the better. The Murtuane and its Turmak people have mostly had a stabilizing impact on the very energetic events happening on the Duane. Modifying this could quickly take things out of our hands” she said worriedly.

After he sent his reply to Yann, Yurick took a deep breathe in appreciation of all that had been done the last past days.

However tedious, all in all, it had allowed him to stay away from other people’s trauma, and stay focused on his own issues. Now, the feeling of the energy at hand was starting to become lighter. Like a thin ray of light poking through a thick layer of rainy clouds, announcing that the silver lining was more than just a consolation. It was announcing the sun to come.

He took the book of stories that had been unburied (like his pleasure to write) from the bottom of the sofa’s cushions when they’d received hosts last week-end, and looked with amusement at the opening note about the “random quotes”.

A strong sense of an inkling started to dawn at him.
Thanks to the random quotes —or more appropriately said, to convenient synchronicities— “stuff” was never lost or buried in the insides of that ever-growing story, which was eating with gluttony at the edges of its expansion. Things were popping up here and there, reminding of old loose threads, or pertinent inclusions or links to be made.

But there was more. He, for a long time, had thought that imagination was expanding things to make physical reality look smaller in proportion than it was. Like when they’d looked at Dory’s pictures, and everything looked so big on them. Even the mere thought of nine dogs was huge. But when they’d met her, and Dan, and the dogs, it was all so much smaller. Even seeing Dory manage her dogs made having nine dogs seem manageable.
But the reverse was true: physical reality had its way of dwarfing imagination. Not so much making it smaller, but compacting it, making it fit in an unbelievably condensed and small space.

Take that book. Thousands of words, billions of probabilities, endless threads and hundreds of characters, all packaged in a small stack of inked paper. The trick was that when you look at it that way, when you got that small stack of paper in your hands, it all seems so manageable; one starts to get accustomed to it, then fails to see the newness in it each time it’s opened to tell a story.

Imagination is the true gauge of the vastness of the universe. It’s so easy to forget…

From the tall windows of her manor of Pillaughpiffleston, Lady Theresa Eaglestone was eying Phlynn the gamekeeper. He was coming back from the wooden part of her ancestral domain, where he had apparently been hunting foxes.
He was quite a handsome man, and his pack of disparate dogs was making lots of noise greeting him.
Theresa had always loved men with dogs. There was such a virile aspect exhaling the scene that she almost covered the window’s glass with a bit of blur.

The “ahem” of her snooty butler looking down his nose almost made her jump.

— “Your cup of tea, Madam.”
— “Thank you Finnley. You may go now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Serendib Facility, Sri Lanka ~ (2036)

Becky had been strangely shaken when she saw appearing in the last word cloud “dead becky” in huge letters.
Surely she was not scared by death, as dead was only a different term for a different life, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to croak so young!

Perhaps she died in childbirth; after all, it wouldn’t be so surprising because then the Serendib Facility looked very much like an eerie transitioning place. She tried to remember… When was the last time people had surprised her; done something unexpected, something she couldn’t have calculated. She thought Tina perhaps… Well, on the holographic visiophone, Becky had seen her with utmost details rolling her eyes, thrice even, at the mention of the ménage à trois… But of course,… that hardly counted as a surprise.

She was starting to freak out. Gayesh! GAYESH! she called out running in the corridors of the facility barely managing to get a bewildered look from the nurses apparently now accustomed to her antics.

A few moments later, she was comfortably seated in Gayesh’s office, with a warm cup of coffee in her hands. Aaaah, she loved that scent, the warmth that goes right to her heart. She felt comforted. At least if she was dead, the coffee seemed real enough.

Gayesh had taken an undecipherable look once she had told him of her… premonition. She intuitively felt that there was something he wasn’t telling.

She almost gurgled her last coffee sip uttering to the doctor “If I’m dead, then spit it now!”

The laugh from Gayesh came as a surprise to her. “Ahaha,” she couldn’t help but notice, “a surprise !”

Looking straight into her eyes, he told her “Well, perhaps your premonition has some deep meaning Becky dear, but you look quite alive to me, and with a constitution like yours, likely to live till 157 years old, if you ask me.”

Becky was greatly relieved, even though she still had the hunch that the mysterious handsome doctor wasn’t telling her all the truth. “I think that idle life is making me insane… I need to see some real dusty rocky stuff; all those projections won’t do for the rest of my life. All the more since I’m supposed to live that long!”

Gayesh was looking more and more preoccupied.

“What is it, dear?” Becky asked, starting to feel the pangs of angst coming back at her. (she whispered to herself some of her favourite mantras: stand behind the short wall, breathe, breathe, yes, YES, it’s not your energy…)

“You see Becky dear,” Gayesh answered after a minute of silence, “there is still some issue with the cloning process; until we find some advanced way of doing it, the clones need some of your cells regularly to be kept in good health, otherwise, I can’t really promise Becky Tooh (that was how the clone#2 was nicknamed) a life as good as yours. That’s why I’m a bit reluctant at letting you go on some errands…”

Well, if she’d wanted some surprise to see that she was alive, there she got more than enough, Becky thought.

The door of the garage opened with a creaking sound, and Madame Chesterhope sped up into the gritty alley.
In that dimension where she had hidden her command base, people were a bit sloppy about roads and tarmac, so she had designed a little modification on her machines to be able to levitate in some of the less practical areas; but she had to admit,… she loved the vibrations and bumps that the motorbike created with the friction of the ground surface.
She started to giggle, all enthusiastic about the speed and the wind in her hair, that she ignored the road sign indicating that the road was flooded some miles ahead. The rain had been pouring cabbages all past hexades, so much so that her leather suit was in all honesty the best thing she could have worn, not to mention the fact of course, that it was making her totally sexy.
Two peasants were coming her way, looking at her with wild eyes like they had just seen something otherworldly. Ahahah she laughed, the fools would soon have forgotten everything about it (another handy and sly magical modification she nodded to herself). Looking in her rear mirror, she could still see them wiggle their hands in a frenzy… What the fl…!

On the road, the two peasants wondered what in the name of Shaint Lejus was that rider… But worse, it was heading straight to the pool that the swollen river had made recently, outpouring on fields and little sniggly and thorny paths, like this one. Making desperate signs to be seen and warn it, they watched in horror the black podgy thing with flabby flapping schpurniatz arms sink straight to the bottom of the pool.

The landing was a bit bumpy, but she found her balance quickly. Those transdimensional puddles were a bit rough to get accustomed to, but once you knew how to manipulate it, you couldn’t forget it.
Now, all she needed to got to the location she was heading to was to hop through a few more transdimensional puddles.
Actually, all sorts of puddles could do the job, water puddles, even oil puddles… or run-over poodle puddles for that matter. She preferred water ones, for the quality of water was very fluid, and allowed for easier defocusing. Lately she had tried transdimensional exhaust fumes clouddles, but that was a bit disorienting more than helping.
As far as she could tell, this first one had been projecting her to a dimension in between Earth and the Duane. Incorporating vibrational qualities of the two, with a little more rigidity though. The machine needed a little time to stabilize and get prepared for the next transdimensional jump.
As far as she could tell, she was in a place that was not unlike her birthplace, in the countryside of England. There were occasionally some giveaways that she still wasn’t quite there yet, like an erratic flying schpurniatz, but she was close now.
A few meters in front of her, she could see a lovely puddle that could do for the next jump. A bit small for her… well, motorbike, what were you thinking… but that would probably do it. She took another breath, then pushed the TDPP (Trans-Dimensional Puddle Propeller) button.

Flof-flof-flof-flof…
Bugger, bugger…. What the bloody heck!

Straw was flying all over her hair, and obfuscating her vision… Darn last puddle had to much mud in it, and her concentration went off for a split second, heading her towards a field of barley.
Turning round and round for a moment in complete disorientation, she finally pushed the levitation button to take a little altitude.
Oh, now,… at least she could tell she was in England, because she knew that place.
How perfect! She could now just move into the dimension to the Pacific island. The GPS included in the modern expensive motorbike had been bipping as soon as it had found again the satellites, and it was now pointing the direction.
Giggling again, she pushed a new button and disappeared into the sky in a supersonic puff of smoke.

a few days later, Chestershire, UK

AFP - 2008-07-21 - An new amazing design has been reported by eye-witnesses
on a crop of barley of a local farmer along with reports of strange booming sounds
and orbs of light. A sight to behold, the delicate intricacy of these interwoven
patterns is believed by many to be the work of the Crop-circle Makers, some
alien intelligence desiring to communicate with us. The theme of this crop-circle
is thought to be a variation on planet Venus cycles, and would be highlighting
the number of cycles lefts until the notorious end-date of Mayan calendar,
Dec. 21st 2012. Scientists have brushed off the allegations of elderly pranksters,
as this one seemed to have required levels of astronomical knowledge far beyond
human intelligence.