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  • #664

    In the creaking wooden caravan slowly moving its way on the dusty roads, Twilight was lost in deep thoughts, caressing mechanically the beautiful blond wig.
    She had done it almost on an impulse, but like all impulses she’d ever had, it had always felt deeply true to her core and she had gone. Now, it felt a bit strange, and too rational doubts were creeping along like viscous bugs, and she felt like judging her behaviour over and over.
    Of course, her brothers, Jo the first, and then Elroy, had been supportive, but they had always been that way. Even when their first reactions were to object to what she was doing, like dancing in the saloon, her determination was always winning them easily. She had promised to write often, and she would probably be back in a year.

    When the Freak Show had settled in town for a week, she had been at first almost grossed out by what was announced, and had not been her brothers to egg on her, she probably wouldn’t have been going to see them.
    Pat Elson, the director of the Fabulously Great Freakus (or FGF), was a little dark-skinned man in an orange suit and top-hat, with a communicable enthusiasm and a sincere consideration for the people he called “his performers”. Very soon, rather than being repulsed by the differences, Twilight had been attracted by the way of life of these people, and was considering traveling with them as an opportunity to discover more about the world and about herself. Her inspiration to write was even tickling her fingers like an army of ants she had never felt before.
    When she had said to Pat Elson that she was willing to travel and work with them, rather than laughing like he used to do, he’d taken a silent pondering moment to consider the options. Obviously Twilight wasn’t a freak herself, at least not physically freaky. But he couldn’t refuse help, as his business was growing every day. Venus, the armless woman, his best asset on the show, had been recently pregnant, giving birth to conjoined twins, and would surely appreciate two arms to give her a hand… so to speak.
    So he had agreed.

    The babies started crying in the caravan drawing Twilight out of her reveries. Venus was sleeping nearby, still exhausted, and Zarafina, the giraffe-woman, started to groan annoyed by the noise.
    Twilight hurried to cuddle the babies, checking that they were alright. All was right, they were probably only bugged by the bumps in the road. No wonder… she sighed.

    #659

    Where is your bloody friend?

    Armando was muttering again, growing impatient and agitated he couldn’t appreciate stillness. He was “so busy” as he was pleased to remind his friend. Sam was rather amused and held his friend in great affection. But at times it could be very irritating.

    We’re going to be late. I have another appointment in 2 hours, and it is in Boston. Not that my new car can’t do that…

    He looked at Sam, waiting some kind of approbation or validation, maybe was he looking for awe. But Sam wasn’t impressed at all. He could be in Boston and in Botswana at the same time… well not yet physically in both but he was getting better at it. It was not so important now to be all physically focused in one place and time… or rather to block the recognition of the other places and times one was focusing on. Well he was lost in his thoughts, waiting for Becky.

    It’s quite… Yellow , Al said in a neutral voice.

    Armando seemed satisfied with this answer. Maybe the answer itself wasn’t important, he had been acknowledged, he was influencing his environment… Looking at Al, Sam smiled with a ;)

    I told you, Armando is not yet familiarized with telepathy.

    Yeah, it is quite useful not to be noticed. Though I really wonder what Becky is doing, we still have to give Tina a lift. She’s learning to declaim lyric poetry, she fancies her teacher, you know…

    Sam couldn’t help but laugh at the image Al had conveyed to him.

    What? You think I can’t do it with my new car?

    Sam had no idea of what Armando was talking about. Since he had bought this new gadget, he only had one thread of converstation available. Though Becky and Tina were quite eager to try this new technological progress. Becky almost fell into Canal Street’s dark water last time she went to see her friend Yang Tsung, her Chinese herborist, in a gondocab. She was looking for some hair growing potion, and she left with some new preparation to help her regain her balance.

    Becky was late, and it was quite unusual… well most of the time she was not. :-?
    Sam and Al joined their thoughts and opened themselves to her energy, all they could grasp was about some nine tailed fox, and Chumpy… was she trying to mate her Chumpy with one of those new fancy pet breed?
    A few minutes later, she was jumping from a gondocab to the yellow flying car.

    Sorry I’m late… you know I was at this new “Rent’a Pet Shop, Boy!”, it’s fantastic the variety of old and new breeds they have. A poor girl was looking for a parrot or a magpie… so common, hopefully she would follow my advice and take one of those nine-tailed glowing fox.

    Her gaze was distant for a few seconds and Chumpy was protesting at how she was holding him.

    Well it matters not as you know. Chumpy don’t be rude to mama! She sat and grinned voraciously, looking a bit worried. When are we going? We’ll be late to meet Tina!

    Armando was gaping at her, and decided he would rather not argue with her. It was his first time with her and he already had categorized her.

    :fleuron:

    All 3 were sitting on the rear of the car, while Armando was driving, focused on his new toy, trying not to make them all crash on one of the emerging towers of Manhattan Water Town. Sam was telling his friends about a dream he had last night and that seemed quite important. At least it was the only one of the night he could remember.

    How unusual of you, Becky said, you should meet Yang Tsung, his herbs are quite efficient, he’s got weeds for anything…

    They lost her for a few seconds again, and Al looked at Sam, encouraging him to continue with his dream. Sam attention was splitted between Becky’s strong energy and the concentration of Armando who was not so confident in his ability to drive the flyellow car after all.

    Well, as I told you it was about new focuses of Al and I, they were journalists…

    Journalists? Like my friend Bonny! Did I tell you about her last crush? She fancies a future focus of her mother. He’s called Moht and lives 200years ahead from now. She goes and meets him in her dreams mostly, but she’s practicing with rendering more real during her… She stopped speaking, looking a bit confused

    Al laughed heartily, Sam was still and seemed to listen so carefully to what she was saying, that it was comic.

    Continue Sam, journalists then?.., she said, stroking Chumpy distractedly.

    Journalists yes, and they were creating a relationship similar to Starsky and Hutch. They were attending a meeting, though I don’t remember what it was all about. All I know is that Al and I were time-travelling, and we happened to meet them at that moment. I don’t know how we knew that the conference would be the target of a terrorist group, but we were there to warn them. We were talking with my focus, Simeon, as Andre, the focus of Al was already in the conference room. It was an international conference and the bomb would cause many death among political personalities, scientists, writers and so on… Well my focus thanked us for the warning but also told me that they had their lot of fun and mischiefs in their lives and that they were ready to disengage.

    Wow! I have a synch with that. I think I was one of the Indian woman there, maybe a minister or similar? You know what? We’re planning to go to Madagascar with Sean for our honey moon :D

    Great! answered Al and Sam in unison.

    We’re at the Opera, Armando said, Is it your friend who looks so furious?

    #1997

    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      A cloud-assisted demented rewrite, just for fun…

      PERPLEXED BY THAT PARTICULAR case, THE sheriff HAD HIS glassES floatING BEFORE HIS eyeS.

      SOME mean rather weird beings… THE brotherHOOD OF magic NEEDED TO SEND Elikozoe INTO A space Craft TO CARE FOR THE boy WHO felt six motherSHIPS COMING IN HIS dreams.

      DURING THESE moments easily FORGOTTEN, SOME others young legends WERE sent Aside TO answer AND bounce WITH alone aspects THAT wondered HOW TO keep focused.

      THE trees WERE laughing “yeah!” THEY SAID, AS Anita FELT cold AMONG THE roseS randomLY SCATTERED.
      SOME told HER ABOUT love, AS SHE asked WHETHER dragons REALLY seemed LIKE nothing ELSE SHE HAD SEEN BEFORE.

      Chris turned wondering ABOUT nature THESE days WHEN everyone, Elizabeth INCLUDED, KEPT thinking WHAT THEIR hair looked LIKE FROM behind.

      DEEP inside, SOME help began slightly TO COME TO THE lady AS SOON AS THE dark cloud HAD taken HER TO sleep. THE truth IN particular WAS LIKE A friend WITH purple COLOURS AND A skull IN HIS HAND, WHO sat WAITING FOR HER.
      “let HOPE COME, despite whatever FATE bringS TO THE door! YOU must wait SOMETIMES, AS factS follow!”

      Nice Tina WAS caught floating ON THE STREAM, AND moving ALONG IN A green jogGING GEAR WAS Joe, BOTH full OF IDEAS THAT gave THEIR friends AN experience NEWLY created. BUT THEY needed magpieS AND tried FOR THESE creatureS INSERTION TO work.

      FOR Arona, ALL WAS happening ON Earth LIKE SOME important dream. IT WAS LIKE dancing IN A real play, WITH THE sea NEARBY.
      A series OF dog-EARED BOOKS WERE NEARLY outside, AND deep INSIDE, SHE KNEW THE novelS WERE close TO surface OUR dimension, WITH HER head looking BEYOND, AS perhaps Yurick WOULD AGREE.
      HIS heart often sounds interesting, BUT OF ALL THE ones SHE liked, IT SHOULD BE herself.
      THE Duane SHALL BE rememberED, SHE thought, IN DUE times…

      WITH THE goat, Anna suddenly giveS THE blue busy spiders SOME NEW reality, AND Kay IS getting hot. SHE HAD forgotten THAT handS COULD BE making names, AND SHOUTING HER CreEd, THE voice OF THE girl SAID IT matterED THAT THE story became shouted IN THE sky.
      Eric WAS ENduring Sanso WHO loved THE sandY BEACHES.

      STAYING clear THIS NEW year DEMANDS SOME self AWARENESS, ESPECIALLY ON THE yellow CHAKRA points, TO ALLEVIATE UNNECESSARY physical pain.

      CLAD IN teal, SHE WAS waiting FOR HIS parents’ words TO HAVE moved AND TO BE connected. Franiel HAD FELT within HIMSELF four OLD fatherS’ ADVICES, AND HAD AGREED TO TALK TO Salome’S face AND ANSWER HER call THAT HAD APPEARED quickly UPON THE wall AND HAD BEEN wandering OVER HIS bed.
      HE careD FOR THE past, AND THAT VISION WAS telling. IN THE morning, HE SAW IT AS A gift, SHINING IN SOME DISTANT island, LIKE A moviNG presence.

      Yann VowED TO FIND HIS WAY IN THE soup OF linkS, AND FIND THE OLD godS’ energy THAT kept THE planetS MOVING.
      HE heard SOMETHING, A FUGACIOUS moment following HIS ADMIRING OF THE beautiful weather, UNDER THE Glistening sun. A SINGLE dragon’S hands COULD nurse POTENT writing abIlITIeS, AND soon WOULD open GREAT awareNESS OF joy AND moveMENTS AND music WHICH WOULD MAKE HIM laugh OF ALL THAT HE WAS creating WITHIN THIS focus.

      Tracy FEELS away OF THE action. IT seems QUITE human… NOTHING IS white DURING twilight, SHE noticed, AND FELT given TO understand.
      AS MRS Bellamy, SHE WOULD HAVE stopPED LONG ago, HAD NOT come THAT powerful mummy.
      WITH Georges startING TO APPEAR, worry BECOMES quietNESS FOR Jib, AND crystal-CLEARNESS FOR Sam.
      MANY years AHEAD IN A GALAXY far-AWAY, ANOTHER Dory IS named AND readS ABOUT DR Bronklehampton’s WORKS.
      HAVING TAKING leaveS, AND BEING gone FOR ALL, OLD Hrih DELVES INTO THE skulls AND HIS eyes SEE A next hope IN A book.
      MovementS HAPPEN FOR Claudio already… THE world woke UP IN surprise.
      A known sense OF TIMESPACE-travel APPEARS IN THE commentS, AS seen THROUGH light.

      Akita’S body AND mind started TO ACT LIKE A saint AND FEEL strange under THE change.
      “TO danGER, bugger!” WAS HIS decision NO longer… HE FELT warm… Towards THE worlds treeS, askING HIMSELF IF IT WAS A game, HE SAW TWO male children PLAYING against EACH OTHER.
      THEY managed TO show HIM THAT THE Murtuane WAS familiar.
      THE whole air WAS speaking. IT sort OF opened ITSELF SO THAT HE knew later OF THAT SPECIAL room OF TIME AND SPACE, AND HAD THE WIND AGAIN BRUSH HIS skin similar TO WHEN HE WAS seeing home IN HIS HEAD.

      Felicity IN THE BEDlam SAW half-formS, COUNTING three OF THEM, INCLUDING Gustav IN THE saloon, AND Becky WHO WAS THINKING SHE WAS AGAIN IN THE wrong PLACE: A monastery!
      SHE’D RATHER HAVE yourself BE A star, AND HERSELF BE HERE TO MAKE THE FUN postS AND playing lost.

      Eight powers smiled: true saying!
      THE sisters focuses IN THEIR caveS HAD SOME fine land TO PLAY WITH.
      Apparently sound WAS key once, BUT THE VOICES IN THE night speak UNCEASINGLY, AND TO write SOME great stories, SPEAK strongLY. THEY seem TO BE feeling yesterday SOME perfect movements…

      THE marmoset HAD FOUND A family, AND funny wordS TO process. IT laughed short GIGGLES
      AS FOR myself, SAID THE cat TO Floyd, I’D create A party-LIKE life, WHERE I DO AS I please, AND LET paper WORK AND feelINGS AND desireS AND tryING AND tellING TO monkey.
      THAT shapeD SOME fun, AND syncHRONICITIES AGAIN happened SHORTLY.

      IN THE FLOWING water, “aum” SOUNDS RIPPLED IN A huge dear dance beginning TO REFLECT himself IN images. HE sighed AS HIS attention GOT INVOLVED IN THE trip AND HE remembered…
      ON THE beach, obviously AWARE OF THE synchRONICITIES, THE creatures wanted TO CLAP THUNDEROUS applauseS.
      LIVING THE dead GUYS’ ideaS…

      #1620

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        Bubbles, skull, 3d software and other miscellaneous type synchs …

        When I left for my walk yesterday, Eric said to me “happy bubbling”, as I left cafe I picked up newspaper off the rack and there was a big photo of a little girl blowing bubbles on the front page. It was a lovely photo, one which had won a photo competition, the child looked very happy. I was wondering what bubbles meant to me, did not think of the 8 thing, but that is a good point.

        Yesterday I had a hair appointment. As I left the house my atttention was caught by a picture which came up on my computer of a skull Dusky Moana (children’s story about a photographer, treasure etc) Later I saw that Eric had started writing about the crystal skull again in the story. Eric’s comment

        As I leafed through a magazine at the hairdressers I was interested in a story about an artist who does his work using 3d software, (I don’t know much about it computer 3d stuff, so was interested to see Jib had been playing with 3d software yesterday. ahahah also George and I are obsessed with flies at the moment, is this a synch? I would love to see the image you did Jib!). It caught my attention because of another image of a girl blowing bubbles. Also because the artist started off saying:

        I was born in London, England on October 26 1958, the youngest of four and much to my parent’s surprise, I was born a dog.
        which I found very funny really, in fact I found his whole Bio very amusing. (ahaha also very amusing none of our numbers in his birthdate, that makes an intriguing change )

        In the interview it talked about how he worked as a photographer in a children’s ward for a number of years, and this greatly influenced his work, endowing his subjects with surreal otherwordly qualities to help them cope with life. Quite a few of them have sort of insect type appendages.

        Ray Caesar Bubbles

        also, just on the off chance anyone interested Ray Caesar’s Bio

        The other image which caught my eye in the magazine was this one of the world’s most valuable skull, made of diamonds: The Diamond Skull (Interesting I was getting the skull imagery I thought, because I have not really been able to quite follow the whereabouts of this skull in the story, it has perplexed and bemused me a bit.)

        Sorry to mess up the order of your next comment Eric. I often whisper my comments to myself when I don’t finish writing them in one go, and I was not expecting anyone else to be up writing. But I think that is a tremendous synch, particularly in relation to Tracy’s comment about the 888th comment and a huggy is a nice one for it to be. Tracy’s comment mentioning the 888th comment (Is this a synch or did Tracy already know about the 888th mark having been hit? oh who cares, lovely synch, that was evil twin popped in for a minute)

        I had a Sam synch, well this is getting long. But anyway I was thinking about spiders as I left the supermarket (long story as to why I was thinking about spiders), Anyway Jib and I had talked about spiders in the story earlier, and as I looked up I saw the car plate coming towards me was X SAM X ….. (what does this mean? is it sam surrounded by X’s? or kisses from Sam ? hahah well I think I will go with that one ) :yahoo_kiss:

        #648
        Jib
        Participant

          As soon as Anadron noticed the signal, he sent an energy thread to his friend Goldarny. The whole community was buzzing in the collective innernet of Asaris, the signal couldn’t have been clearer. It was one of the legendary devices sent to this world a few centuries ago. There were originally 9 of them. One had been broken or “lost”. The eight other devices had been silent for many years, and the Asarisi had thought the knowledge of these devices had been lost by the inhabitants.

          Among many collective threads and more private ones, Anadron and Goldarny were exchanging energy.

          The device had been lost for so many years that the Council had suspended the explorations to this world many years ago. Following the Salitre Massacre, their policy was if they were not contacted first they would not interfere. One of the eight remaining skulls had been almost activated for communication. Not quite yet. So they would not send anyone.

          Both friends were thinking the same thing. Andrimiñ was currently away in another dimension, one with many portals… could he loose his way home? They were both quite novice at these explorations and they were indeed curious, very curious.

          :fleuron:

          What was considered a green star was shining upon the land of Nerumyil, giving the purple sand of the beaches some shimmering magpie shades. Falghrus had been observing the human since one of the Daughters of the Sea had brought him here. He couldn’t see any reason for her action… The Zentauras were discrete and respectful creatures… mostly respectful of one’s position in the society, and Falghrus was not one of the few Ambassadors of his People. Interfering would have been very misplaced. All he could do was send a magpie to alert the Council, and it would decide the right thing to do.

          One of his first reactions would have been to kill the man. None of them was allowed in this territory. Nerumyil had been hidden to their perception long ago. If that creature of the Sea hadn’t brought him here, he could never have reached the beach on his own. He had respected his position until now, though he had tried to dissuade the man to stay longer with his mental abilities. He was one of the Gatherer, but he had a few skills that he could have developed if he had chosen the path of a Healer.

          But that creature again had warned him, almost breaking the rule. The man was under her protection.
          The beach was a neutral territory. Between the Land and the Sea, no soul should be harmed. This was usually respected between the Zentauras and the People of the Sea. The humans were not part of this rule. And Falghrus had them in particular distaste.

          This one seemed quite weak. He would have helped him end his suffering without the protection she had decided to accord to him so graciously. But he won’t stop his observation… he would find a way.

          #647

          When Felicity had taken the job, she had thought at first that it was all a big interstellar joke…
          Come on… Dead people speaking though living?
          But a few recent experiences made her feel there was kind of warmth surrounding her when she started the radiophonic sessions, and that she was feeling… inspired, for lack of a better word.
          Words indeed were coming and flowing, and even though she was rarely speechless, the words did have some different quality.
          And people enjoyed the show greatly, and mails kept coming to the radio thanking DDT for all of the marvelous advices…

          Till then, as she was conscious of the process, she had refrained issuing some definite statements on future events, as the inspiration was pressing her to do at times. As subtle as all of this was, she was feeling it was not really the same energy as the warm one; it was like incursions of a quicker and less stable bouncy energy.
          It was pushing her to make cocky statements, on mass events about to come… Oh, not again self-fulfilling prophecies, please! she couldn’t help but think…

          At times, Felicity was even wondering whether she was really going completely crazy.
          Oh, it was so much simpler to be a genuine fraud…

          :fleuron:

          — Arky, come here at once!
          — But, I’ve done nothing…
          — Stop being such a jackanapes, will you… You know very well there is no secret…
          — Yes…

          Despite his being immaterial, it was obvious that the One referred to as Arky was being scolded.

          — And you know perfectly well there is nothing to gain in pushing things…
          — But I intended well…
          — I know that. As generations of focuses of leaders and presidents have been doing. One would have assumed you’d knew better by now… I can see you’re enjoying being with me on the soapbox, but either you find your own, or you better stay clear next time we get a communication.
          — Understood.
          — Fine, class dismissed.

          #644

          Back in the depths of the water, Aglaë was thinking of a way for her to move easily on the other world.

          There was a legend of her people, a legend which was told to the children. It promised pain and an accursed half-life to those trying to disown their heritage, and live outside of the life-sustaining element of water.
          For most of the children, such an idea was incongruous at best, and none would have thought of breaching the taboo simply to try something different and potentially lethal.
          But to Aglaë, all that it meant now was that such a thing was possible.
          In that legend she had been told when she was young, there was a prince, who betrayed his people, and was condemned to an exile outside of the oceans. So that he would not die an immediate and atrocious death on the dry surface, but rather suffer even more, by not being able to come back to the depths, he was given a mixture of plants to ingest. A deadly algae which grew in the cemeteries of the Holders of Dreams, on the carcasses of the Wise Ones, mixed with an herb from the lands.

          Aglaë did not know how and where to gather the plants… She was hesitant to do such a thing, for it would surely infuriate her father… But she was willing to do it. She would have to find a naïve ally to help her in her task, because she was seeing her half-brother Pelorus becoming suspicious and she did not want to have him discover her plans before she could realise them.
          Pelorus was very close to their father, who had made him Captain of the Tritonic Guard. Though he was not having a slithery serpentine tail like her own, he was very agile and swift in the waters with his tentacles, and was very respected, as he had a reassuring presence, radiating might and power.

          #635
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Elizabeth Tattler gasped and clutched the right side of her chest. For a moment she wondered if the sharp pain she felt was a heart attack, and was greatly relieved when she realised it was located on the other side of her chest. After some investigation of her cluttered desk, she realised she must have fallen asleep on the pyramid shaped pencil sharpener her friend Yannie P had given her for her last birthday. It was made of fake blue diamond and was really rather beautiful; she could see thousands of suspended dust particles in it’s reflected light. But it was damn sharp! A thought flashed through her head, was the gift really a cunning plot to murder her? She shook her head at her own absurdity, anyway, fortunately the five layers of Angora-Mongoat wool jerseys she was wearing had protected her from more serious injury.

            She could not help but notice how the consistently the quote of the day seemed so in tune with her moods. It was almost uncanny:

            Bugger your feelings~ Tobipooh

            Damn right! If she listened to her feelings she would go home and sleep for a week. No time for that, no time for a nana nap even! She had a novel to write.

            #633
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              On Channel TV-5, Tobi the ventriloquist’s show was on.

              The usual gang was gathered in Al and Tina’s flat, to enjoy the popular show. Becky, who was a huge aficionado of the show had made it to the flat before everyone, despite her suffering from apparently unexplainable pains in the chest.
              When the show started, Becky felt a little better though she couldn’t really breathe easily. The Yeath Lady, in her ash-blue mummy outfit was making her giggle. It wasn’t very good for her floating ribs, but she couldn’t help, and decided to giggle softly.

              Al was trying his best to munch some pop-corn but one of his tooth was still moving in his mouth, and it wasn’t time to get some pop-corn implanted into his gums…

              #624

              Instantly Elizabeth regretted her spikey, voodish behaviour and scrambled to retrieve the telepooh. Her mother was Vood by nature, a particularly dysfunctional personality type, and Elizabeth had struggled all her life to avoid similar behavioural patterns. Her friends, and certainly her ex-husbands, would say perhaps with only partial success.

              Apologies Bronkel, I was engrossed in my writing. How can I help you?

              Bronkel appeared to be covered in bandages from what she could see of his upper torso, giving him the appearance of a rather odd mummy like creature. He was constantly searching for new beauty treatments to extend his youthful goodlooks, however at 167 years more and more desperate measures were being called for.

              Elizabeth! Thank God, Where in Flork’s name have you been? he shouted at her. His pudgy, prouty little face was scrunched in peevish vexation. I can’t talk for long, I am on the Island for a month and the connection is flork. Where in the name of Fock is the story you promised me?

              She could not find the words to reply to Bronkel. I wonder if I am mindblown? she mused. She had read of this horrible phenomenon, and seen the sad pictures of those thus afflicted. Poor wandering creatures, strange erratic behaviour, always travelling, always seeking. But for what? Hell on Dearth indeed. She shuddered.

              It is getting urgent you know, spluttered Bronkel. Every day I am reading of new treatment centers opening for those undergoing crisis due to the prolonged absence of the Fickle Four in their lives.

              She sighed, Pull yourself together Elizabeth, her bloodshot and tired eyes were drawn to the planetary horrorscope on the monthly calendar. Todays “Words of Comfort for the Descending” quotation was from the famous philosopher Lemone. She particularly loved Lemone’s ideas. Many considered him a nutter, a few thought he was a genius ahead of his time. For herself, she did not really know, only that his profoundly beautiful words offered a kind of solace or balm to her tortured soul at times such as this :

              Sometimes it takes a single sniggly thorny path to go through to reach Elysian avenues much more efficiently ~ Lemone

              Absolutely fantastic Bronkel, I think this is going to be the best novel yet! My God what an effort it took to say that, but for some reason Bronkel appeared to believe her and began to calm. Thank you Lemone, I could kiss you! she breathed an inward sigh of relief.

              Poke its eyes out! screeched Robert X exuberantly.

              A sniggly thorny path indeed, she thought, hanging up on Bronkel. She had fun using him and his island getaway for inspiration in her last novel. Fun, what happened to the fun? Is this what descended beings do, sit around in a dank, dusty office writing trashy novels?

              She began nervously smoothing out pieces of paper and tried to decipher the scribbled notes; …big soup party …..pointy teeth like cannibals…..tribal wedding ….

              Elizabeth put her head in her hands and groaned in abject despair. Twelve of the twenty mongoats fainted at the fearful sound.

              #620
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                The Story Vincentius told to Arona

                I was seven when my father died. He leapt into a swollen river to help a neighbor who was drowning. He saved the neighbor but could not save himself. Everyone called him a hero but my mother called him a stupid fool. She was filled with sadness for her loss, and anger that he would leave her in such a way. I remember she got a pair of big scissors from the sewing box and cut off her long hair. For weeks after that I would see her move her hand to brush her long hair away and suddenly realise it was no longer there and I would see her go still. Then her body would slump and she would stand there looking lost and not knowing what to do. One day her heart just stopped beating. They said she died of grief but I think it was that life had become an empty hole that just got deeper and darker. I don’t think that is the same as grief, but maybe it is. My three older sisters and I cried and cried when my father died, but I never once saw her cry.

                When my mother died we had to cry in secret, because my Grandmother Naja moved in to take care of us. She didn’t believe in crying. There were many things she didn’t believe in. Grandmother Naja ate like a bird, looked like a piece of old leather and moved like a skittery rabbit.

                Vincentius she would say to me, peering at me shortsightedly, you need to get bigger. Your parents are dead and you are now the man of the house. Every day she would poke me in the ribs and say Vincentius, you need to get bigger”. Every time she poked me I remembered all over again that I was not good enough and that my parents were dead.

                One day she sent Taffy, the second oldest sister out to the garden to get a cabbage. But there were no cabbages left the garden. Well! said Grandmother Naja, I can’t cook cabbage broth without any cabbage. So she gave Taffy a coin and sent my sisters into the Village to buy a cabbage from the market.

                I begged to go too.

                You are too small and you are too slow! said my sisters

                Eventually though they gave in to my pleading.

                I have often wondered if I knew the events that day would bring, if I would have begged so hard to go, mused Vincentius

                to be continued …

                #618
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Felicity, or the “Bridal Goddess” as she called herself, was most encouraging when Becky said she was after something “a bit different” for her wedding day. Weddings had been having a resurgence of popularity in the last few years, obviously it was not the solid institution it was decades ago, but many people still liked to exchange intentions for their relationship. Most regarded marriage fondly as a rather quaint institution from the past.

                  I will help you create your dream wedding! Felicity gushed enthusiastically. Most important is that you wear something you absolutely adore and that looks simply stunning on you for your special day. What sort of look did you have in mind?

                  oh, um tribal actually, said Becky, vaguely, suddenly remembering she hadn’t mentioned her plans to Sean. He could be a tad on the conservative side at times . In fact, come to think of it, had she even mentioned to him that they were getting married?

                  Fantastic! Demure tribal? Revealing tribal? I do all sorts of tribals, whatever you want!

                  Hmmm said Becky reflectively, well probably not demure.

                  No agreed Tina, not demure.

                  :fleuron:

                  A few hours later Becky and Tina were recovering from the ordeal, as Tina called it dramatically, over a cup of organic trim alpaca’s milk expresso Lucciato

                  Hey what’s this about a soup party? asked Tina. I couldn’t get much sense out of Sam, but he says you are helping with it.

                  Yeah it’s going to be great!

                  Well, just so long as you aren’t doing the catering, it should be great, thought Tina, shuddering at the memory of stuffed Nasturtium Blossoms and Locust Bisque Becky had served at their last get-together. Not forgetting the garlic icecream for dessert.

                  I heard that! It was healthy Tina! retorted Becky defensively.

                  Bugger telepathy sighed Tina

                  #1604

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    While I was cleaning today there was a music doco playing on tv …. I was thinking about our story when I tuned in to the television where they were talking about David Bowie using fishbowl technique to help him with lyrics cut out technique. This seems similar to our word cloud. Not so much a synch, however I thought it was quite interesting and thought it might be fun to try when I get stuck in my writing.

                    #616

                    She had felt it.
                    When the old man had left his body behind, she had felt it.

                    Oorlaith had foreseen that he would decide to leave this World, and thus was not affected too much. However, she was not sure that Leonard, who she had sent to the highs of Mount Elok’ram had had time to retrieve the cup of Margilonia.

                    Oorlaith had already collected the wand of Selvaniel, which Leonard had brought back to her, thanks to her indications, from the Forest bordering the Marshes. Now, she hoped he had time enough to get to the old Abbot.
                    Otherwise, it might be more delicate…
                    Much more delicate…

                    Hopefully, she had made contact with Roselyn, who had been settling in another part of Asgurdy, on one of the numerous rocky islands bordering the South-western coasts, where life was scarce and the soil barren, but where it was safe enough to do magic in this superstitious land, as not much people ventured to these places.
                    Her spiked dragon had helped her carve out her new residency and she was quite well installed now.
                    Before moving from the deserts of Asgurdy, she had managed to get the sunstone of Agnima.

                    #1992

                    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      Pain interesting …. :help: dark quickly, game change, lost obviously, bring bandages,

                      weird weather. :weather-few-clouds:

                      Whatever …

                      Franiel wondering … yellow color …. raft named random truth? Try move nothing. Perhaps heart speak sometimes quiet. Thinking energy….remember herself moments, process inside light, past help outside …. wait, familiar wall happening … floating mind sea movement.

                      Yurick noticed …. told mummy story, attention Bronkelhampton. :mummy: Joe tell sheriff spiders answer, bugger party!
                      Cold worry gone …. laughing. Dear bright cave, already connected.

                      :yahoo_rose:

                      #612

                      It’d been two hexades that the Abbot Hrih Chokyam Lin’potshee had been laying in bed in poor condition.
                      At first, he had wanted to be as strong as he had always been towards hardships, but he’d finally admitted that quelching the pain wasn’t doing any good to him. So he had agreed to be taken care of by a young monk, and to lay in bed as long as was necessary.
                      He knew that he was very likely not to get out of that bed but with his body covered by a white sheet, nevertheless, the thought was still something distant. The pain in his body was making him so present to himself that the only thing that was still blatant was that he was.
                      More than the body, it was all his faith that was shaken. He had thought he would leave this life without mess, without pain, probably very discreetly in his sleep… But now, his head was wincing at every noise, even the nature’s sounds that once felt like music to his ears, he was eschewing them now as much as he could. His very skin was hot and couldn’t bear even the soft contact of the bedsheets.
                      What was the point of all of this? He had never doubted that everything had its purpose, but now, he was doubting…
                      He was even trying to find some reasonable reasons for what was happening, he who never trusted in reasonable reasons in the first place. Perhaps that was because of his seating under the chilly air and the warm sun in front of the Meditation Wall, reading for all of the poems that had been written by the monks who had dared to write. Perhaps he had “taken cold”, whatever that means…
                      “Perhaps not” the voice kept saying softly in his head.

                      Now, his whole succession was feeling like a moot point. After all, he was not even capable of saving himself from anything, then how could what he created make the slightest difference? These were all like an extension of his body, bound to decay and come back to Earths.

                      Not so many monks had dared write upon the Wall about their highest truth. A few jokesters had begun at first, helping the others to participate.
                      One in particular had had Hrih laugh for quite a while.

                      A toad is a toad
                      Unless kissed
                      Endless Bliss

                      Then a dozen of others had flourished upon the wall, until Aum Geong decided to write his own. He’d not wanted to go first, to allow the others to express without the burden of comparison, and also to have some more time to write something deep and thoughtful. But that profusion of nonsense between some occasional pearls of wisdom made him write his own.

                      Unattainable is the Truth
                      For in the Dust of things
                      All in our View is bleak

                      Doing Wrong we forswear
                      For Dust to be lifted
                      And Wisdom we seek

                      In the deed of the Elders
                      And the Faith in the Community
                      Light and Trust bespeak

                      All the monks had been quite impressed, but Hrih had not been entirely satisfied by it… To be honest, he even completely disagreed with it.
                      Now, however, stuck in this bed, the poem was playing in his head and suggesting that the Worlds were something terrible that he had not yet understood, or be willing to avoid seeing. Perhaps Aum Geong was wiser than he was.
                      Perhaps all that Hrih had put as foundational to his life had all been Dust…
                      “There is no Dust, and you know that” the voice whispered softly.

                      Now that he is about to die, what difference will it make anyway…
                      He reach out for a bowl of water, and almost let it fall, as the weight of it surprised him. He was becoming so weak… He never had been so self-conscious in many many many years.

                      After he had propped himself up to drink a few burning swallows of the lukewarm water, he noticed something folded on his bedside, that had been put under the bowl… Young Franiel had been the one attending him with Jog Lam, so it must have been the doing of one of them. He intuited that was Franiel.

                      As he read the stanzas, tears were in his eyes…

                      I am the driftwood
                      the wave carried me
                      I was buried in sand

                      I am the flower
                      the butterfly touched me
                      I fell in love

                      I am the raindrop
                      the cloud released me
                      I became the ocean

                      The Young monk had probably not dared write it on the Wall, especially after most of the monks’ vocal appreciations of Aum Geong’s poem…
                      “Perhaps not” the voice again spoke.
                      Another reason for it formed into Hrih’s mind. Franiel perhaps didn’t feel ready for such responsibilities and his role and fulfillment in this community was not form rules nor to continue it.
                      It was more to inspire them, and perhaps to start his own discoveries.

                      Hrih wrote a note behind the paper. He wanted to leave something for Franiel, for him to keep faith in his coming adventures during these coming times of change.
                      After a deep breath, he took another paper that was with him for already such a long time, wrote down some words, and signed it, the aura of his hand burning a glyph that was his signature in the paper. He then called for Jog Lam.

                      — Jog Lam, my friend…
                      — Elder?
                      — I’m dying…
                      — I know Elder
                      — Let me continue. (Jog Lam nodded)
                      First, will you give that paper to Young Franiel after the cremation ceremonies. (Jog Lam nodded again)
                      Second, I want you to relay that I have made my decision, and that Aum Geog will succeed me (Jog Lam’s surprise was noticeable in his eye). He is, to date, the most adequate successor for this monastery.
                      — I will do as you want.
                      — Thank you my friend.
                      — Elder…
                      — Farewell, my friend, I am always with you.

                      When Jog Lam stoically left the room, Hrih Chokyam laid down, his eyes on the ceiling. His body was so weak that all he could do was to project behind his closed eyelids and see the starry sky, even if he would have wanted something different for his death. He would have loved something like a nap in a sunlit meadow with a little singing brook.
                      But seeing the actual World was something even more precious to him. The barren mountains of the icy season, the clear unclouded sky. His mind was so full of energy that his body lacked.

                      With a deep feeling of gratitude for his body, he bid it farewell.

                      #609
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        — So he wants us to paddle down a river of pea-soup, is that it, sweetie?
                        Al was asking Tina, while playing with his teeth and gums…

                        — Oh, I don’t have any clue really, sighed Tina who began to feel annoyed by Al’s constant fiddling with his mouth.
                        — Well, not to worry then, except I’ve got focuses dead from poisoned pea-soup as far as I remember, so I am not overly enthusiastic about the whole pea-soup adventure… Better make it some more fluid…
                        — And will you tell me what you’re doing now with that mouth of yours Albert? Last time that was the hair, then the nails… it seems you can’t get enough of these explorations of your body consciousness, can you? Tsss… Tumold aligned people…
                        — Oh, this is fascinating, can’t you see, how fluid this all area is, despite the appearances.
                        — If you say so…
                        — Look!
                        — Oh now, you’re being gross! Tina was positively appalled by Al’s behaviour
                        — Oh, it’s funny, look… I can make my gums as malleable as marshmallow, and have my teeth float on that gum-soup…
                        Yikes!
                        — Entirely fascinating… And I can also grow some new ones, what would you say of pointy teeth like cannibals?
                        — Oh, come on, Tina was now no longer impressed… Have fun as you want, I’m going for a walk to help Becky buy her wedding dress… She wants something that looks “tribal” she said…

                        Tina went outside shrugging at the toothy grin Al gave her.

                        #601
                        Jib
                        Participant

                          Georges and Salome’s journal

                          From Georges’ account of his arrival in Tur.

                          There is a strong energy concentration on some part of this planet called the Duane. I’m not yet familiarized with the geography of this world, but it seems to be a starry Island on the northern territories. The island is inhabited by a particular race that call themselves the Guardians. It seems that they are the only remnants of their previously flourishing civilization, most of them have migrated to another planet of the triplanetary system. The energy concentration is acting like a magnet, tuned to the other 2 planets, the Murtuane and the Phrëal. Maybe helping maintain the 3 of them in that particular triangle like alignment around Alienor.

                          The source of energy is coming from a giant crystal ball in their main City and is kept active by the Guardians. I’m wondering if they are responsible for the particular planetary aspect of this world. They are aware of other dimensions and other realities. But they are keeping these information for themselves. Planetary travels are not allowed for the other races apparently and they are not willing to exchange with other dimensional beings. I’ll have to play smoothly to gain their trust and get known. Apparently the body I chose for this first contact with this world is similar to one of their Jokan or higher ranked guardians. Maybe that will be of help.

                          There are twelve of them, and I think the 12 Jokan are directly connected with the 12 essence families of this dimension. Usually there are 4 of them present on each of the 3 worlds. But again that is information that is hidden to the other people of the Duane. I’m not sure about the other planets yet but it seems different.

                          #596
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Poêléed foie gras, goat tagine, roquette fig salad, sherry trifle, serrano ham, lobster in ginger…..

                            Manon was going over her holiday menu and lists, wondering how on earth she would manage to cater for all tastes. What a houseful it was going to be.

                            …..scallion soy sauce, steak and kidney pie, wild mushroom soup, ostrich fillets with dauphine potatoes, rhubarb crumble….

                            …..Cuthbert! OY! Manon grabbed the boy as he rushed past grabbing a hot mince pie on his way to the stables.

                            Here, take this with you, she said, thrusting a basket towards him, crushing the pastry he was clutching, and spilling hot mince all over his hand.

                            AAArrgghh! MaNON! Cuthbert licked his burnt palm and glared at the cook.

                            Manon gave him a swift slap round the back of the head and said, That’s your own bloody fault for nicking it in the first place. Go and pick the mushrooms for the soup, and some rhubarb for the crumble, and bring me some greens, too.

                            Cuthbert groaned, But MaNON……..

                            Bugger off and do it! Ask that Bill to help you, he just went outside, hurry and you’ll catch him.

                            #584

                            Malika jotted down some notes on the chat window, depicting the images as they whizzed into her mind like the pages of a multicoloured flip-book

                            “As she swam swiftly to regain the spot of her observation, she skimmed almost to the surface, and as she did, she saw lights. She surfaced and heard sounds that resembled the music that she and her sisters played.
                            They held in their hands objects that projected sounds…

                            :fleuron:

                            As she swam swiftly to regain the spot of her observation, she skimmed almost to the surface, and as she did, she saw lights. She surfaced and heard sounds that resembled the music that she and her sisters played.
                            They held in their hands objects that projected sounds, and their echoes in the waters were projecting harmonious symphonies that were carried miles across the waters.

                            How odd that the sounds where so similar to the ones she had always known. But they were different, rasher, suffused of a violent nature which was so alien to the world she was coming from. It all was perplexing, and almost deafening to her. Her eyes getting slowly accustomed to the light could not yet perceive that there was no longer the life she’d felt on the strange floating body, but she knew it assuredly even without seeing it.

                            She plunged back into the waters, to reattain the gliding peace and softness that she had been missing so much already, even though she had been out of it for barely a few moments.

                            Where was the life she had felt… Gone in the strange world of the surface? She knew so little of that world, that she imagined that all their creatures could swim as easily in the airs as she could do in the waters. Was there a bottom to their environment?
                            All of these questions were erupting and expanding in her mind, when a sudden feeling got her forthwith.

                            She could feel him. Sinking slowly… and she could feel his pain inside, something else that was alien to her… He was so fascinating…
                            She swam fleetly to where he was.
                            She turned in small rounds around him, following closely his descent, not daring to touch him.
                            So alien, yet so beautiful.

                            She could communicate with him, as he was in something close to a deep slumber, and allowing for that exchange to happen. It was a breach of the rules, she knew.
                            She had been told not to interfere with things from the surface, yet she was interfering already, and she’d always been doing it in a sense… At what point did that breach leapt from her imagination to reality? She couldn’t say…

                            The light was casting a yellow radiance in the blue waters. A feeling of warmth and comfort surrounding them.
                            He was telling her he was dying, yet he was comfortable. Time meant nothing…
                            She conveyed to him that she could help him, bring him back to his floating station, where he could spring back into his world… She wanted to share so many things with him…

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