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  • #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:

    #402

    — The legend of Mævel — (Part V)

    Mævel, opening her eyes, found herself in the middle of the forest. It was still dark and the sky was covered with a dark blue haze. Now, she had to find her friend the fox
    How could she do that, in such a wide forest, she started to whine.

    Well, why not start by asking… hooted a rowl nearby.

    Mævel was surprised. She had thought these hot pink speaking owls where found only in legends, not in woods nearby…

    You are in a legend, sweetie retorted the rowl.
    — Oh… Surely the legend of someone else then. Who’s legend it is, I am in, dear rowl?
    — Oh, you can call me Aromelle, sweetie. It’s your legend of course.
    — No kidding? Phew, what a responsibility… I shouldn’t tell you that, but you seem like a rowl I can confide in, err… I’m no hero, I’m not even educated, and I pass winds like any impolite woman or polite green ogress would do… And having everyone know that would be kind of embarrassing… What a legend that would be…
    — Then we’ll just say to the bards to skip that part… said wise Aromelle. Now, you wanted to ask something?
    — Oh yes, I have to find the blue fox.
    — And would you mind being a little more precise about that fox. I know thousands of blue foxes sweetie. Hoohoo, perhaps that’s an exaggeration, but I know quite a few, of others’ legends… You’re not the only legendary one coming into these woods to ask for advice.
    — Oh, I’m sorry, blushed Mævel
    — No need sweetie, snapped the rowl, in fact I know exactly who you are looking for… Wouldn’t that be Gulniforgf, the hunchback one-eyed cleft-lipped ogre cursed by Nærvel, the Goddess of the Waters? she said with an encouraging wink
    — Oh, by Ghört’s sake, no!
    — Hoohooo, no need to swear. Of course it isn’t, I knew that, sweetie. That must be Mifilthion, the toothless bald thousand-year-old troll cursed by Agnima, the Goddess of the Flames, you are looking for, hum? she said slyly
    — Oh, no, no, no… Mine is Blohmrik, he said he was a god…
    — Oh, but you know, everyone is a bit of god in a way, so that’s hardly…
    — He said he was cursed by Lejüs
    SHOOSHOOO, the rowl flapped her wings visibly distraught. That can’t be him! Poor thing… Aromelle added plaintively, you know in these matters of curses, you have to deal with the cursing one, and Shaint Lejüs is a tough one to deal with…
    — Oh, for a moment I was afraid that you’d say Blohmrik was a deaf varicosed warty dwarf… I don’t fear that Lejüs, said bravely Mævel… perhaps a bit hastily, she thought to herself
    — Oh, no, he’s a nice fine man, sweetie, you both would do such a perfect couple…
    — And where do I find him then, Mævel was getting a bit impatient with the winking hooting hoot
    — Well, that’s easy, you just happen to have appeared on top of his burrow.

    What a waste of time, was thinking Mævel… She couldn’t wait for much longer, and after all, the burrow could be a nice place to rest.

    With a quick thanks to Aromelle, she entered the tunnel in front of her.

    #401

    The Yellow Princess Chapter Book — Part I

    The singing birds awoke her. She was feeling numb for a few days and was wondering what was happening to her. Princess Atiara, often called the Yellow Princess was 20, a very important age among her people. She was the heir of Landgurdy, the richest of the 7 remaining Warring Kingdoms. Her father, the Yellow King Namiarad Tschãõ, had organised a birthday party for her. Inviting all the warring clans of Landgurdy and some of their allies among the other Warring Kingdoms.

    Though she couldn’t calm that waruki, or bad feeling… something was going to happen… and it was not something pleasant.

    #393
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      ARONA MEETS THE NANNY

      Dreamily Arona wandered away from the cave, gently holding the sleeping Yikesy close to her heart. Mandrake the cat followed, elegantly attempting to convey the impression he was there by mere chance, and by some stroke of fortune happened to be heading in the same direction.

      Arona had no clear idea where she was going, or what her intentions were even. Still this was nothing new for Arona, who was a bit of an aimless wanderer really herself at heart. She pretended she was looking for magic, but really, she wasn’t so sure anymore what she was looking for.

      Wooha!

      Arona was momentarily rendered speechless by a vison up ahead. The most beautiful creature she had ever seen sat no more than 5 dragon-lengths up ahead.
      .
      Mandrake, she eventually whispered when she had regained her composure, What is this miracle ahead? Is this some maiden’s dream? A heavenly creature come to earth perhaps?

      A miracle sent by God to save you? suggested Mandrake

      His near naked body a masterpiece of bronzed skin pulled taut over rippling muscles.

      Steady on Arona, said Mandrake

      But you know I am no hapless fool Mandrake, to swoon over a handsome stranger.

      No, indeed. And might I enquire why for art we art speaking so oddly? asked Mandrake

      Buggered if I know, answered Arona

      Despite the bravado she managed to display at times, Arona was very shy, and would never have had the confidence to approach such a godlike creature. However at that moment Yikesy started to cry loudly. The god looked up from his silent reverie and smiled.

      Oh a baby, he said in a deep melodic voice. I love babies. He came bounding athletically over and gazed down at Yikesy. My, that is an endearingly ugly baby.

      This is Arona, stuttered Arona, I mean I am Arona, and this is Yikesy, and this is .. Arona looked blankly at Mandrake

      Mandrake looked unhelpfully back at her, with a rather sarcastic little smile on his face.

      I am delighted to meet you. Vincentius at your service. May I hold Arona for a few moments?

      Oh I am sure that could be arranged, snorted Mandrake.

      Arona glared at Mandrake and decided the time had come to pull herself together. I am so sorry for the misunderstanding, she said charmingly to Vincentius. The baby’s name is Yikesy. And certainly you may hold him for a moment.

      Vincentius held Yikesy in his strong arms as though he had been cradling little babies all his life.

      Look this is probably a silly question but you aren’t after a nanny by any chance? Oh no of course you aren’t, said Vincentius, apologetically, seeing the amazed expression on Arona’s face. I am so sorry, just wishful thinking on my part. Please forget I said anything and forgive me for my impudence.

      Well actually, said Arona, frantically attempting to remain calm, I really have no idea how to look after this baby and I did have a bit of an idea a nanny might be quite useful.

      Well this is a fortuitous meeting indeed then!

      But I can’t afford to pay you, she said sadly, unconsciously fiddling with her hair and fluttering her long thick eyelashes.

      Oh don’t worry about that small detail. I am sure we can come to some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement, and Vincentius winked at her.

      Arona drew herself up to her full height, firmly took Yikesy back and said; I will have you know if you are going to wink at me this can’t possibly work. I have no idea what a wink means. You will have to speak clearly if you have something to say to me.

      OH bugger bugger bugger! thought Arona. What is it with me and winking. Now I have blown it. BUGGER.

      But Vincentius just laughed good naturedly, and musically too of course. Perhaps we will just play it by ear then shall we? I am delighted to be your new Nanny :yahoo_big_hug:.

      #392

      — The legend of Mævel — (Part IV)

      Mævel’s mind was made up, she was leaving tonight. She took a few of her belongings in a little bundle, and all very silently, moved to the door, the bundle in one hand, and the key in the other.

      But when she tried to put the key into the lock, she noticed something was wrong. The key was way too big for the small lock. What was the purpose of materializing a big key unfit to the locks that were in front of us? she wondered.
      Perhaps the key will have another use, she said to herself, and she put it into her bundle, and wondered whether she could find another way to get out of the bedroom.

      « Use your magic,… you don’t need to play by the rules » a tiny voice whispered in her ear.
      « What does that mean? » she asked, befuddled, as perhaps her parents where right after all, she was becoming nuts… Well, that might attract squirrels and have them gnaw a hole in that wall, she said giggling to herself.
      « You don’t need draw squirrels,… you can draw a door directly »

      What a strange idea, Mævel thought, drawing a door… It sounded so funny at the moment, that she could feel her heart lift and her spirits as well. What could she use to draw that door… Her gaze ran quickly through the bedroom, looking for a bit of chalk, or charcoal, or whatever else. What a terrible thing that she was so obsessed by dusting, as there wasn’t even a single dust bunny left to draw that door.

      « Now, will you pay attention? »
      « I beg your pardon? »
      « What did I told you? »
      « Mmmm, let me think… Oh! I don’t have to play by the rules… »

      So, in a bout of genius, Mævel ran her finger on the wall, starting from the floor, straight upwards, then to the right, and straight down again, until… well, nothing happened.

      « That wall hasn’t budged any! »
      « Are you sure?… Look closer »

      And Mævel saw that the wall had become like a shiny surface of water, right inside where she had drawn the limits of that imaginary door. And when she pressed her finger, it was simply going through it, as though the surface had just been an illusion.

      With a thank for the helpful voice in her head, she was about to cross the surface, but was stopped in her track by a moment of hesitation. Could she change the destination behind the wall as well?
      Why not, after all, she didn’t have to play by the rules.

      « To the forest! » Mævel ordered intently to the wall before jumping in.

      The voice smiled to her fondly.

      #387
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Of course, as soon as they had stepped into the powerful magnetic field generated inside the T.R.A.P., the reality around them was transphormed as if they all had been into a huge deFørmiñG mirror, that they could shape with their strangest thoughts.

        Obviously, they had all started to hallucinate some funny stuff…

        It was happening so quick, Sam noticed. Sean’s breath was smelling of whiskey, and Sam felt Sean had forgotten something on his way to New York. He felt compelled to ask him if there was something on his mind…
        — Peregrine!
        — Who’s that?
        — Oh, he will be so disappointed… Sean started to sob. I’m such a bad father!

        Sean couldn’t find a composure. Hopefully, Becky wrapped her sensual arm around his shoulders, and hugged him tenderly.

        — Hey, look, she said, the children are more adept at these games than we are,… if we want, we can have him project here from his bedroom and share the fun with us. What do you reckon?

        And she started to yell:

        — Peeeeerrrry ! Peerrrry !

        #383
        AvatarJib
        Participant

          Apparently Becky burst out when she saw Sean… poor Sean, Sam thought a moment… but he joined her in her laugh and he felt something very intimate happening between them.

          Sean took Becky’s hand and she blushed, she was looking straight in his eyes.

          Then Sam saw the most beautiful energy exchange, a loving energy shared between 2 soul mates… as he was a dispersed essence, Sam was feeling naturally the exchange as if he was part of it… he just kept his focus on himself not to disturb this expression of pure and intense love…

          Sam felt that Tina and Al were also aware of what was happening.

          :yahoo_rose: :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_rose: :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_rose: :yahoo_good_luck:

          That was in energy… physically, Becky burst out laughing again, Sean was smiling.

          — How about entering that new T.R.A.P. asked Tina? :face-kiss:

          #361
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Chiara and Roselyn were back, back to wherever it was they started from, before they started their little adventure to the island.

            (Where was it again? and was it a dream or did it really happen?) :yahoo_idk:

            Anyway, notwithstandingly, it was an interesting diversion and both were enriched by their experience.:yahoo_rose: :yahoo_rose:

            #359

            New Venice, year 2101

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

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

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

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

            :fleuron:

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

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

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

            #324
            AvatarJib
            Participant

              Yann was wandering about in a pet shop, looking for nothing in particular.

              Quintin had said something about inserting the shift now… well, that sucked… Yann was in a very bad mood, feeling like everyone was against him, nothing was going as he wanted to, and most of all he had lost inspiration. No desire to draw, or to write anything. His life was not fitting. Or so it seemed.

              Looking closer to the bird cages, and the birds inside, he was amazed at their similarities and their differences. Their shapes and sizes, their colors was the obvious parts. Their shouting also, it was quite messy, and stridulent. But what he noticed most was their behavior, some were just living their own life, proud of themselves and quite fearful when Yann was getting closer to the cage, and others were just flocking together like they couldn’t live apart. Some were singing, some crying, some just quiet and moving nervously or randomly…

              He went to the parrots room, it was written babies on the cages… they were like full sized parrots to him, very big birds!!! very colorful and impressive. But looking closer, they were not so healthy, their feathers were sort of dull, and even bad shaped and like the parrot had been attacked savagely :yahoo_thinking:. Not very impressive eventually.

              A few days ago things had become quite erratic at his work… he had felt a strong desire to change, change everything. First he couldn’t understand that desire and he resisted strongly, but soon he created some uncomfortable manifestations. Breathing difficulties, headaches, itching, and even boredom. He just felt the desire to tell bugger off to everyone.

              The birds were getting boring actually, he left the shop.

              Walking in the street among the crowd was kinda soothing his uneasiness… though at times he was like feeling what they were strongly projecting. There was that Muslim woman with her chador, and as she went right past him he had that twinge of anger against her, coming from nowhere, and as soon as he noticed that, he just moved his attention to his energy and it was over, no more anger or polarization. Was it his own feelings or was it from that young woman?

              Whatever, he just enter another shop, home shop, with little thingies and furniture… all these statues, the ones looking like 1920’s ladies were the most appealing… and there were these fairies also, wasn’t it Fiona who had told him about a dream where she was the fairy princess?
              :yahoo_daydreaming:

              :yahoo_alien:
              Oh! that pic… the man had a blue skin… with dolphins on his face creating shadows… the pic was a blend of sort, very funny, and the man was cute :yahoo_whistling: as was the shop assistant…

              Time to leave… he went off the shop and continued walking. Bright sun, fresh air, all was clearing. His mood also. He thought again about what he and Quintin had been planning. It seemed something crazy, but it also seemed related to what was happening in his life. Since Vienna, their relation had become closer and closer, and for the most part it was very endearing, very fun and also very intense. All these energies, all this creativity, it had to be part of a bigger picture.

              :yahoo_oh_go_on:

              Thinking about that, his friend Dory had told him about a bigger picture once, and he was teasing her about that… but now it was making sense. His abilities to remember his dreams had increased in a way, though most of the time he did not remember his dream in the morning. He’d noticed he could if he was just relaxing a bit and let his attention go back to that dream self of his… At times he had also some weird experiences about parallel realities and shift of perception, like the room is translucent and he can move through it in another dimension, very freaky that one :yahoo_not_listening:

              #1474
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Posting comment – sign in issue

                :bulb: OK, if the same weird thing happens, telling you you’re not signed in (when you are already), and refuses to post the comment, just hit “add your comment” again, and it should work…

                :yahoo_idk:

                #308
                TracyTracy
                Participant

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

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

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

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

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

                  Coffee? George asked.

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

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

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

                  #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.

                  #290
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Well, I’m sorry to have to tell you Becky Pooh, but your script is getting awfully confusing… Al was saying swaying his head in dismay.
                    — What?! Becky nearly spluttered her cappuccino on Tina who was munching marshmallows at the cafeteria of the rehearsal room.
                    — Yes, you see… Al was once again lost in his thoughts… This Illi is driving me crazy, once she’s here, then she’s elsewhere. At one moment you said she was dead, and I went to great extents to try to clarify…
                    — Muddle, interrupted Becky Pooh, Muddle…
                    — … the whole thing, Al continued imperturbably, and made clear, or so I thought, that the Illi cat was alive, and the Illi human was indeed dead, but now Tina makes the Illi in the dream of little Chiara the cat again… Could you both explain what happens. I’m completely lost.
                    AHAHAH, LOST! cried Becky so insanely, so that all of the others looked at her with eyes wide as saucers.
                    — Well, there could be lots of explanations of course, interjected Sam, whose energy was always soothing to incorporate in the midst of heated discussions on the reality play they were all writing.
                    — Yes, of course there are! It all makes perfect sense, said Becky.
                    — Oh sure, said Tina, except that you don’t really make Illi do anything…
                    — Do I?
                    — Well, they were near the cave, but you won’t face the scaly stinky dragons anyway, said Al a bit disappointed.
                    — Why can’t you imagine them all fluffy and pink if it’s easier for you? said Sam. Like Chinese dragons, why not? A bit dog-headed, wouldn’t that be easier for you?
                    — Mmmm. Becky was pondering.

                    — And what were your suggestions to explain that insane dream? asked Al to Sam.
                    — Mmm, let me see… Perhaps it’s from another timeline. No one has said when that dream has occurred, so it may be before, or after the events happening right now.
                    — And for the cat seen by Chiara, said Tina gently, that could just be her seeing the essence of Illi, and seeing other of her personalities…
                    — Well, seems to make sense… acknowledged Al and Sam, all turning to Becky to see if she agreed.

                    #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.

                    #281
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      That morning Fiona knew she needed to change her name. Fiona was a nice name, and she was quite fond of it, but she needed to reflect the inner changes which were happening and it didn’t feel right any more. (Well were there inner changes and did she need to reflect them? Buggered if she knew. All she knew was that it did not feel right.) At that very moment she looked down at the book she was reading and instantly the name “Finn” popped out at her. As this was a variation of Fiona, it seemed perfect to her. So really she wasn’t changing her name at all, just focusing on a different aspect of it, or something.

                      #1473
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        :notepad: Seems there is an issue when you take too long to write a comment, the system thinks you are not signed in any longer.
                        Will see what I can do.

                        In the meantime, if that happens, just copy your comment from the comment box, and then reload the page, and paste/post it back… Sorry for any inconvenience…

                        [EDIT] I’ve changed something in the configuration of the cookies, perhaps that’ll help. Might be a good thing to clear your cookies in your browser too, just in case…

                        #277
                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          You are very fat, said Chiara to Roselyn

                          And she laughed. Yes, I am

                          My Nana is fat, but not as fat as you.

                          Roselyn seemed to consider this for a moment, and then laughed again. Would you like to go on an adventure with me?

                          Chiara was not quite sure. An adventure sounded quite fun, however she had some beliefs you were not supposed to go off with strangers, however nice they may seem. But Roselyn did seem familiar to her.

                          Where would we go?

                          We would fly to Fairy Land, replied Roselyn

                          This offer was way too tempting for Chiara to decline

                          Oh yes!

                          Take my hand then, and close your eyes tightly.

                          Next thing they were flying through the air. Chiara loved the feeling of flying, she often went flying in her dreams. She giggled with delight as Roselyn, no longer seeming to be impeded by her fat body, effortlessly did flips and twirls in the air.

                          The colour of the world around them changed, the blue sky became all the shades of the rainbow. Down below, Chiara could see an island in the middle of the sea, which sparkled like broken glass in a kaleidoscope of shifting colours.

                          Roselyn guided them gently down to the island.

                          Chiara gazed around, speechless with wonder and delight and then nearly jumped out of her skin as a loud voice behind her shouted “BOUH!”

                          ******

                          NB: What is Fairy Land like? Well, if you like gigantic flowers, bright colours, and the possibility of unexpected magical happenings, you would probably quite enjoy it. There is loads of spontaneous singing and dancing which can be a little unnerving at first for the uninitiated. You have to be prepared to go with the flow in Fairy Land because the creatures that live there don’t have the same rules as those that come from the “real world” (whatever that is), and many of them tend to be quite mischievous.

                          #79
                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            These are excerpts from Yuki’s diary, explaining some of the details of the experiment called — Malvina’s story —.

                            Note: for the reader not familiar with all the names here is a quick reminder:

                            • Araili > Yann, Írtak, Sam, Jacob …
                            • Armelle > Fiona, Arona, Tina, Qixi …
                            • Rafaela > Dory, Illi, Becky, Rodney …
                            • Yuki > Quintin, Al, Janice …

                            September 12 th, 2007

                            Today, an experiment has been launched by Quintin. Time will tell if it will bear some fruit, but the idea sounds good.
                            Having people join in a story telling, and see what happens, what are the “lessons” one can draw from this…

                            Armelle, Rafaela and Araili are already on the starting-blocks, though Quintin is not quite aware yet.

                            I can hear some thoughts: Let’s say for the moment that there are no rules. We will see what prompts the desire for having rules…

                            September 13 th

                            Some of the people familiar with Janice and her friends’ adventures have already joined in with much enthusiasm.
                            This first comment seems very promising.

                            Right now, it feels easy and fun.

                            Quintin seems to think that everything is very straightforward.
                            The magical world with the cave in one part, separated from the “real” world. (Two Worlds, and he thinks that will be enough to content Rafaela, ahaha, how presumptuous)
                            The first he sees as a representation of what psychologists think of as “subconscious”, and the other being the conscious, physical part.

                            But of course, he thinks he knows better than that. He calls the first one “subjective” rather than subconscious, because it’s a translation of subjects which unfold in many related objects in the “objective” or physical world.
                            That’s a good point, though a bit distorted. It would be better to say Malvina’s World is a translation of the subjective, in the manner of a Heroic Dimension.
                            But the thing is, that he missed the point in thinking one World is more “real” than the other.
                            We’ll be having some fun soon…

                            First remark… The second comment of the story has been interrupted abruptly in the middle of a sentence. That is interesting. We will urge Quintin to leave it as it is, despite his feeling of it being awkward.
                            We will appeal to his imagination.
                            It seems he has heard the suggestion.

                            September 14 th

                            For the most part, the story starts to get much involvement. Lots of energies are being projected into it, and with every adjunct, each participant’s perception stretches to accommodate the changes and smooth out the bumps in their own sense of continuity.

                            But as I expected, some challenges seem to appear already.
                            Is it raining or not in that world?
                            The question seems simple, but it is very profound and Fiona seems to struggle a bit with it, as is Quintin. The question frame itself [“that World”] shows where the difficulty lies.

                            He seems to avoid the discrepancy and pretend that he has not seen it. Mmmm, avoiding the obstacles… that will very soon come right back in front of you dear Quintin, for Dory is quite playful.
                            At least Fiona has been challenging Dory for not paying attention… Armelle’s ineffable loving ruthlessness!
                            How will it unfold?
                            Rafaela seems to be delighting herself as though she’s preparing some mischief, but Dory struggles in the “back”…

                            September 15 th

                            Dory is indeed very playful and her imagination is unrestrained. I extend much appreciation to this focus of Rafaela, especially as Quintin has to stretch his imagination to make things “fit”.

                            Quintin is still avoiding the issues that appear sporadically and prefers to stay focused on his own perception of the story… Careful Quintin :face-smile:

                            Yann joins the fun —objectively, that is, for Araili has been present already since the very beginning.

                            September 16 th

                            Halcyons days…
                            My dear friend Archie is answering some of Quintin and Yann’s questions.
                            Something starts to dawn on Quintin. But his mind is on other matters.

                            He understands that the energies of the writers are melding in writing the story, but he still tends to think that they blend completely.

                            September 18 th

                            Quintin has been drawing some of the characters of the story. It’s interesting.
                            He had good insights, as Yann will tell him later that his clothes today were exactly the same as the colours he had drawn.

                            Characters drawn:

                            • Mavina, Leörmn the dragon and weaszchilla, Írtak, Huÿgens (and Fjutch), Arona and Illi (the gripshawk)
                            • Malika, Quintin, Yann, Fiona and Dory

                            Interestingly, Fiona resolves her issues in her cave.
                            Dory too, but she did not need the cave to do this.

                            September 21 st

                            For Quintin, the story seems to lose all common sense, as some characters move from World to World. You could have expected that Quintin!
                            And Dory pops in and out, in her mind, in her dream state, or in future timeline mixed with present or past one.
                            Quintin will soon realize that he himself is doing this constantly, though he does not register it.

                            But the worst thing for him is that there are bleedthroughs in between Worlds. The Reality Times newspaper was brilliant Rafaela, a perfect trigger for the beliefs that the Worlds are closed and impermeable to each other!

                            Archie has been answering new questions about that story and this had been quite interesting for all of the participants.
                            There is much for them to digest from the realization that each of them had been creating their own versions of the stories through their perceptions. And that they were each having their version of the story, drawing from each other’s input, like a conductor of an orchestra incorporating some instruments.

                            Of course, some things still matter, and one of the point of the story is also to discover these.

                            September 22 nd

                            Quintin has been drawing new characters.

                            Characters drawn:

                            • Båd Al’Guz (Bådul), BelleDora, Buckberry the dragon, the twin dragon eggs, Archibald the parrot, Sanso the Wanderer
                            • Illi Fergusson, another Illi that Quintin has tried to sneak in as a bait for Dory, with hints that she is disengaged (or “dead” in common vernacular) and merges with others of her focuses…
                            • Jacqueline Bleomelen (Nanny Gibbon), Lord Wrick, his great grand children the twins Cuthbert and India Louise, Manfred, William P. Jobsworth the painter

                            A new perception trick: Dory felt relieved upon seeing the moth feelers of BelleDora.
                            She had at first thought they were whiskers, which was not Quintin’s intent…

                            September 23 rd

                            Quintin seems to have connected to a map drawn by Lord Wrick, when the old Lord has started to document his great grand children travels.

                            Quintin had tried to put some annotations on this fragment, but he doesn’t yet completely understand that his perception of this World, though accurate, is only valid in this present moment, and may change at any time.

                            Up to now, here are the names he could find:

                            • North: the Icy Lands, and Dragon Cemeteries
                            • Center: Goldfindely, homeland of Arona, connected to the Warring Kingdoms of Lan’ork by the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer. The Isthmus of the Dragon Head seems to lead to Malvina’s cave and hideout. Mount Elok’ram is pointed as the highest place of the World yet discovered. Three main rivers are drawn: in the ancient myths of the people of this land, they represent the three Daughters of Ghört, weavers of men’s destinies: Tibreÿa, Uleÿa, and Snimeÿa. Snimeÿa cuts the thread of life, which is shown as the river leads after many meanders to the Marshes of Doom.
                            • Far East, North: the Land of Båd Al’Guz, Åsgurdy. A harsh mountainous land of islands and seas.
                              Both parts of the World seem to ignore each other till now, as they are separated by the Great Rift, which in the past has deterred many intrepid navigators.
                            • South: the Desert Lands. Illi’s birthplace, rarely explored by humans thus unaware of most of its marvels, gripshawks nomadic tribes included.

                            When he discussed Arona’s village with Fiona, Quintin had the vision of some dolphin-like creatures, but bright yellow. They are called golfindels and are mostly seen on the northern shores of Arona’s homeland, which is thus called Golfindely.

                            #269

                            Malvina had been busy opening doors for herself, and thus, for the All.

                            Creating the sabulmantium with Leörmn had revealed new potentials to her. And just before putting the final touch to the device, she had felt engulfed in a huge wave and before she knew it, she was talking with someone. A great creative power, which was stemming from herself, and also from which she stemmed too.

                            It had named itself Naasir.

                            It had revealed to her, in the form of a dark abyss, myriads of unknown potentials waiting for her to leap in faith into them. It had gently requested that she release her hold on the caves openings, so that she could explore more, and also bring more to herself.

                            Then Naasir took the form of a great dragon in that abyss, from which roots were growing and pushing their way, slowly and surely, into the rich soil towards the light of their fullness.

                            She had then seen the dragon’s arched back and tail shift into a chain of spiked rocks, separating the worlds seas in two. Three of the scales on the right of the dragon’s skin were glimmering, and she could see they were looking for a passage.

                            Would she allow that to happen? Yes, she wanted to. Open the doorways, and reunite what was separate, but gently, one at a time.

                            Slowly, the kite-shaped rocky plates on the back of the dragon moved apart, to open a slight, safe passage for the glimmering scales. They were caught in the eddies that surged from the opening, but Malvina’s focus helped them to float and cross safely, as they wanted to.

                            She then came back to herself, seated in front of the glass-shell dragon egg filled with coloured sand, awed with that power she had just felt through her. She knew it was her own power, and that the device had only allowed it to be expressed, but she had felt wary of how the sabulmantium could be used by others.

                            At the same time, Leörmn who was once again the tiny weaszchilla trotting on the wooden table in front of her had laughed squeakingly. And looking at the toy in front of her, she had understood how it could only be used by those who would see beyond the thinly veiled surface. For the uncaring eye, this would only be a toy, mundane and without interest, but for the pure of heart, its help could be harnessed.

                            That’s how she’d knew she did not need it any longer, and could release it.

                            So, the doors had been opened, and people were feeling the new jewels sparkling behind the dark passages. And gifts from friends could now come across the veils.

                            Malvina saw that during the last transmugrification, Leörmn had created an entrance near her laboratory, and it was as if it beckoned her now.

                            When she entered, she saw a guéridon table in the middle of a moistly pungent room. On the table, a polished egg was here. She recognized it at once. It had an azure blue glow to it, and fond memories came back to her.

                            Back then, she was a young Sorceress in training on the Island of Mörk, in the middle of the Icy Lands, the birth and dying place of the dragons.

                            This egg was one from a set of three. It was the first glubolín she’d ever made, along with her two companions. They had kept it to communicate with each other when they parted.

                            Malvina, the youngest of the three, had kept the azure blue, and chose to go to the Dragon Head Peninsula.

                            Oörlaith had kept the mauve, and went near the town of Kapalÿka, on the Snimeÿa River delta bordering the Marshes of Doom.

                            As for Roselÿn, the eldest of the three, she had taken the amber one, and had went as far as anyone would have dared go, flying on her spiked dragon Rëgkvist, past the Great Rift.

                            They had kept in touch, but contacts had been more and more sporadic as each were discovering their own new environments, and had ceased altogether, almost at the same time.

                            As far as she knew, Roselÿn had been starting her own rookery in the sandy ice deserts of Åsgurdy, mostly hiding there from the superstitious people of that land. And Oörlaith, whom she was closest to, had been devising another funny way to keep people away from her rookery. Her own dragon, the playful Andarión, was shape-shifting as a huge shrimp to pretend that the surroundings were haunted.

                            Recalling all these moment, Malvina laughed at how silly they all were, and felt a long to be connecting again with her friends. Would anyone of them be around their own glubolíns?

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