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  • #383
    Jib
    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
        Jib
        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?

                        #268
                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          Fiona had more or less given up on getting the pebbles from Yann, deciding they must have got lost in the post, so that evening when she happened to check the mailbox when walking past she was very surprised and delighted to see a package from him. It was way too late for the postie to have been, so she was intrigued as to how they had got there and where they had been all this time.

                          The three pebbles, well a couple of them were more like small rocks really and she was most impressed that Yann had sent them, were from the cave in Scotland he had visited a few months ago. Yann said the small one was from the cliff, the red one was one of the pebbles outside the cave and the grey one was from the stream inside the cave.

                          Fiona held each of them in her hand and got quite a strange feeling from them, and some interesting pictures came into her head…..

                          Yann had also sent a furry toy, a little scottish hairy cow. Apparently on his trip these hairy cows had reminded him of her. Fiona was a little perplexed by the seeming similarity but decided to believe it was a good thing. how quaint! she thought bless him :yahoo_big_hug:

                          #259

                          Jadra slept fitfully. He was in the forest and he dreamed of a great tidal wave sweeping over him. He was holding on for dear life to the branches of a tree while angry faces swept by him in the water, shouting abuse at him, although he could not make out the words.

                          “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” he shouted back.

                          But then, to his horror he saw his left hand separate from his arm and he could no longer hold on. He saw his hand being swept out to sea and all that mattered was that he find it again. He let to of the safety of the tree and felt himself being pulled by the waves.

                          Jadra awoke trembling and shaking in terror. He looked for his left hand on the end of his arm, where it should be, but he could not see it. He knew what had happened. He had thrown his hand in the river. He thought it was sticks and stones he had thrown in, but he had been mistaken. He knew that now. He had to go and find his hand in the river.

                          Jadra felt such anguish. Not so clever Jadra Iamaman. You stupid old Fool

                          Forgive me! he shouted to the Gods. Whimpering in pain he rushed back the way he had come, back through the forest to the spot where he had last seen his hand. He threw himself into the water and dived down deep, not caring he could not swim, only knowing his hand was in there somewhere.

                          ***

                          There were very few people around that early in the morning, but a small boy saw Jadra go in the water and stood watching. He waited and waited, and when he knew for sure there was something wrong he raised the alarm.

                          ***

                          Jadra felt a great peacefulness sweep over him. He stopped fighting and abandoned himself to the mighty current of the water. A unicorn swam by him in the water and whispered to him she would take him to safely home.

                          ***

                          They pulled Jadra’s body from the water a mile down river.

                          #246

                          Huÿgens was not much of a cat person.

                          He liked his dogs because they were solid, loyal companions, and he could count on them to take care of his herd of langoats.

                          Langoats were a kind of three-eyed manic woolly and horned creatures, with a big sensing tongue, attracted to every new sound, or scent, or colour, or texture… well almost anything new that came before their eyes (when said eyes were not covered by thick layers of wool that is). And as their memory was short too, all kinds of things were always new to them.

                          That was why the dogs were extremely useful in channeling their movements; not that the langoats would have hurt themselves, because they were very able to provide for themselves, and jump from the top of a cliff without suffering much injuries. But they could very well loose all notion of their physicality and pop in and out of the fabric of time and space.

                          When they came back, because they always did magically come back, even after months of wandering, they would at times be reconfigured into another creature, and that would be pointless applying too much effort in trying to bring them back to their previous form, because it was said, in relation to their stubbornness that once a langoat, always a langoat

                          Huÿgens had already lost some, especially during the shearing season.

                          And he had found himself back once with a cumbersome hippoliphant, and a bouncy shulimeek instead of two langoats.

                          Anyway, langoats wool was a very precious asset, highly sought after, as it could very easily bind with magical spells. Most of the clothes made for royalties were actually made with langoat wool, and it was also said that some enchanters had used langoat wool to make magical tapestries that would shapeshift, and reveal things to their owners.

                          So losing a langoat was not small concern for Huÿgens, and he had to be careful during the shearing season to leave some mops of hair to cover the three eyes of the beasts, so as to curb their insatiable thirst for discoveries.

                          But these days, Huÿgens had been very concerned about his herding dog Fjutch. Fjutch was a fluffy black dog he had found when it was still a puppy. He had trained it to become the head of his pack of dogs, when he had noticed the old rheumatic Thöm was taking the puppy under its wing —because the old faithful dog was knowing that it would depart and would reconfigure into a new form, but would not allow that to happen, not before he could have found a reliable companionship for his beloved master Huÿgens.

                          The healing properties of the langoat milk seemed to had done wonders once again, and Fjutch dis-ease was probably just a false alarm, but it had reminded Huÿgens how much he appreciated his dogs, every one of them, every day he was with them.

                          As for the cats… Illi, that was her name, had decided to come back to the cave, and he was showing her the way to the place where he had found her. He had asked BelleDora to pack a few things for her. He could not give Illi the beverage she was referring to as “coffee”, as that plant was not found in their region, but in compensation, he gave her a gourd of langoat milk, because she seemed like she would probably need some.

                          When he left her near the hole, he had some tears in his eyes when Illi hugged Fjutch very tenderly, as if the dog was reminding her of something dear. Illi after a moment hesitation, where she was like speaking to herself and not knowing what to do, finally hugged Huÿgens too, thanking him for everything he had done.

                          And off she was… free and unfettered as a gripshawk

                          ***

                          When Illi had finished arguing with Illi about having her hug the big man, while this was not manners of her kind, she sighed as she saw that the opening she had first thought was here (yeah, because I fell in there! she said), her senses where telling her that it was now closed…

                          How quaint said Illi for herself.
                          — Well, as a matter of fact, it reminds me of something, said Illi F. There was that delicious gentleman, John Lubbock who said “What we see depends mainly on what we look for” and somehow it seems perfect.
                          — I don’t know any Grubbeck, grumbled Illi, a bit irritated that the hole, which was there before, wouldn’t be here, now she needed it.
                          — Lubbock was such a nice person, said Illi dreamily… Perhaps I could just try to have a peek inside the cave, if you let me.
                          — What?! Do again your wizzy wooey thing and I’ll strangle you! Don’t know how I would do it, but I’ll do it!
                          — Oh, you are so sluggishly gloomy! That was just to help you…
                          — Mmm, sorry for that, I was a bit upset, said Illi. What could you do?
                          — Just focus on the inside, and carry us both inside… But actually you would have to leave your body here, and we’ll probably see other things that do not belong to this place, but heck! that should be fun, Illi F said grinning widely.

                          They were interrupted by some munching sounds and ruffling heavy breath.

                          — What the bejeezus is that?! hissed Illi the cat (who didn’t even know how she knew so funny sounding words as bejeezus)
                          — Can’t you see? That’s obviously a dragon eating some bushes… How strange… replied Illi F airily.
                          — A WHAT? I HATE DRAGONS!
                          — Ahahah, relax, I was just pulling your leg.
                          — That’s not funny.
                          — Well he has funny colours by the way. Pinkish purple I wouldn’t dare to wear in London streets.
                          — That’s REALLY NOT FUNNY!
                          — Why so? You can’t see it anyway…
                          — And what if he sees me? Dragons are vicious creatures.
                          — He’s too busy eating these funny berries, and will probably collapse of exhaustion once he’s full.
                          — A chance! A vegetarian dragon!
                          — OK. Shall we try to find an entrance in the cave with my method, or do we ask the dragon? He looks well-mannered by the way.
                          — Oh, by the eyeballs of the Mighty Shrimp, you tell me…
                          — No, you choose.
                          — No, you.
                          — You…
                          — Ooooh, bugger off…

                          #238

                          Sanso was beginning to feel an urge to move. Waiting under the door in the ceiling in the cave tunnel, just watching India Louise and Illi fade in and out of view, and waiting for Dory and the parrot to return was getting boring. He was a wanderer by nature, and so he wandered off along the tunnel. He didn’t stop to wonder which tunnel to choose when he came to a junction, he just went with whatever one he happened to choose. He didn’t really mind where he ended up, that was the thing. This philosophy had always seemed to work well for him, because he ALWAYS ended up somewhere interesting; somewhere where he couldn’t imagine not being, once he was there, as if it was always the ‘right’ place to be, and at the ‘right’ time to be there.

                          The cave tunnel was becoming wider and less cramped. Sanso straightened his back and quickened his pace, and started to sing.

                          Hello Dolly, oh helloooo Dolly, do de dooo de do do dodedodedooooo……. chuckling to himself and wondering where on earth did THAT come from….. Oh helloooooo Dolly……

                          and walked right into a coatstand, of all things, getting splodged in the face with a rather smelly wet blue cape. The coatstand teetered and Sanso grabbed it to stop it falling over. There was a note pinned onto it:

                          Watch my shifting, Tell the time; Shape me wet, and Lose me dry; Colour me pink and grey and gold, and Find the secrets that I hold, What am I?

                          Sanso didn’t hesitate for a single moment. SAND!

                          Sanso grinned with delight at guessing the riddle so quickly, and then laughed out loud. How clever am I, he said, I guessed the answer to my own riddle! Still chortling, Sanso gave the wet cape a fond pat and set off again.

                          The tunnel was widening and eventually broadened into a cavern. Bright sparkling shafts of sunlight were beaming down from several holes in the cavern roof.

                          Sanso blinked a few times and squinted until his eyes became accustomed to the light. The cavern was huge, and everywhere he looked were paintings and markings on the walls, even the places impossible to reach. Some were creatures, some were symbols, in black and red and yellow and orange.

                          Sanso was entranced. He sank down to a sitting position, and then stretched out flat on his back, gazing at the markings on the walls. He stretched his arms out, filling his palms with sand and then letting it go, and trailing his fingers through the sand…sand…..

                          Sand! I may have got the riddle, thought Sanso, but I didn’t get the POINT of the riddle being there in the first place!

                          HHMM, I’m not so clever after all……

                          #235
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            Fiona :) ed as she read the latest updates on Quintin’s website.

                            *** *** *** *** ***

                            She felt the strong presence of her evil twin as she found herself compelled to play with some of the new features. :face-devil-grin:

                            *** ***

                            She hoped this would not make Quintin feel :( as really it had nothing to do with the story.

                            Or did it :-/

                            *** ***

                            Of course he can always delete it if he wants, she thought happily :D or make some rules, to stop this sort of thing happening in the future. ;)

                            *** ***

                            :yahoo_big_hug:

                            #195

                            Everything started to happen at once. As Sanso sat up, craning his neck looking at the door in the ceiling, a terrific flapping and squalking noise approached from behind him, starting as a distant vibration and rising in an unbearable crescendo as it rounded the last bend in the tunnel. Suddenly the noise stopped as Sanso felt a weight on his shoulder, and then a thud on the sandy floor. Bugger this, the parrot screeched in his ear. Bugger this bugger this bugger bugger bugger…

                            Sanso was momentarily speechless, as his eye fell on the key. He picked it up and turned it over in his hand, feeling the rusty weight of it. He turned to look at the parrot on his shoulder, who thankfully had stopped his shrill squalking.

                            This must be the key to that door, he whispered to the parrot. Let’s try it and see.

                            Wait for Dory dear Wait for Dory!

                            Bugger this, sighed the parrot, Here I am bringing the key, remembering everything everyone else forgets, running the show here and I don’t even have a name in this silly story.

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