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  • #303

    Becky woke up in a sweat. Her bedclothes were tangled and what remained of her pillow was on the floor. The room was full of downy feathers.

    Sheesh, said Becky, pushing sweaty strands of hair out of her eyes and reaching for her cigarettes.

    What a dream! Wow, I wonder what that witch did to deserve that! Becky couldn’t quite believe she’d had such a violently aggressive dream. All she could really remember was attacking a witch, and slapping her repeatedly, and punching her, screaming all the while DON’T…EVER….DO THAT AGAIN Wangwangawanga…… DON’T DO IT wangawanga… then the witch had turned into a goose, but still Becky kept punching her, causing the poor gooses feathers to fly everywhere, and all the while Becky kept shouting WANGAWANGAWANGA……

    I can’t believe I did that, even in a dream! Becky hated violence so much that she walked out of the room if a violent scene was showing on the television, and she loved witches and geese.

    That poor goose! Becky decided to go back into the dream, to smooth what was left of the gooses ruffled feathers, and apologize.

    She stubbed out her cigarette, and settled back against the pillows and closed her eyes. Now the goose was looking at her reproachfully, in between straightening her plumage, and huffing and tutting a bit.

    I’m awfully sorry about that! I don’t know why I did it. Becky hoped it was a forgiving kind of goose, and not a vengeful one.

    It matters not, I suppose, grumbled the goose, I must have created being slapped around by a sweaty madwoman, though gawd knows why.

    Were you a witch in another focus? Becky asked. Because I was angry with a witch initially, not a big white goose and I don’t know how I came to be pummeling you. Come to think of it, I don’t know why I was attacking the witch either. The witch did look unpleasant though, but you look nice enough….

    Well I don’t look very blimmen nice with my feathers in this state, dearie! And don’t remind me of that dratted witch focus, gawd, I was horrid. Not surprised you lashed out at that one!

    Becky started to relax. Things were looking promising. The goose was turning out to be rather sweet.

    But as you can see, continued the goose, I am not a witch, I am a big white goose now, a rather sweet one too, even if I do say so myself, so let’s hear no more about it.

    Becky smiled broadly at the goose. I appreciate that very much! Oh by the way…what’s your name?

    Angela, answered the goose, Angela Wing.

    REALLY? Becky said, rather rudely, and then caught herself and said: Angela! What a lovely name! Angela Wing, would you like to be in our play?

    #298

    The City, year 2257

    Janice had just awoken from a strange dream, where she was watching big round cabbages being harvested in what looked like Quintin’s father garden. They were all firmly rooted on a black irrigation pole across the garden, and people were using strange devices to turn them all delicately and pick them afterwards. In the dream, there were black puppies too, sleeping in the straw of a kind of hut nearby. And she had seen another creature, and had been surprised first because it was unlike anything she had ever met, even in dreams. It was hairless and brown as soft mud, and was hiding in the neighbour’s garden. Then it had crossed and came to play with her…

    Janice was lost in her thoughts strolling on the way to the common dome, when she met Rodney, her father’s friend.
    They had been recently trying with her father Jacob, and also Qixi to connect with their shifting focuses of the Ancients, two centuries and half before their time.
    Some of them, they had found, had been playing a sort of game of story-telling and clue-sowing… (Janice was laughing as her father’s friend, the scientist Arkandin, always insisted on seesawing instead)

    Perhaps her dream was telling her that the crop was ripe, and it was time to harvest some from it. She told her dream to Rodney. All at once, he was quite excited and they started to feel they wanted to chat more freely. So they went into one of the Medraw Caps that was available and soon imagined a comfortable environment for themselves to explore more.

    Janice could hear Al or Quintin complain about how things were getting confusing.
    She tried to convey to both of them that they could be excited about it, as it was expanding their understanding, but they weren’t very receptive.

    ~~~

    Somewhere Al was saying to Becky
    — The more you try to fix it, the more confused I am
    — Hahahahah yes! Becky was answering, I guess so! Ahahahah! Al, what a fabulous dance of confusion we do… The Confundo Tango
    — Ahahah, yes!

    Al started again to moan:
    — So who’s dead, who’s the shapeshifter? Who’s the human, who’s the cat? :-??

    (Rodney was laughing, as for him, he could accept the confusion as much easier, letting him free to wander around!)

    Illi was a woman, a shapeshifter who shape-shifted into a cat, then, she died. Becky was saying (Rodney added mentally “Now, she is disengaged” as he knew that “death” was a confusing word.) She was an archaeologist
    — Okay, that’s cool, that’s what I thought, Al acquiesced. Then thought back of what was said of her and wondered… Anyway, it will probably find a perfect answer …
    Becky nodded
    — I got lost myself when two Illis appeared, and a grip-thing as well
    — Because I didn’t want the grip-thing to be dead! Al couldn’t help but laugh. That would have been too easy, like wiggling out. Not using your imagination within the context of objective imagery to sort out “things”…

    ~~~

    While Rodney and Janice were seeing that their other focuses were kind of stuck in their explanation, they had time freeze and both decided to come back to their “now” to start from their understanding.
    A funny thought had come to Janice, that she shared with Rodney.
    — Oh, the funny thing you know, about Becky having written to Sean
    Rodney nodded. Janice continued:
    — It just appeared in my mind just moments ago, at the same time you (well, Rafaela) inserted into the story of Malvina. That Becky would have been asking Sean something, and that perhaps it would have helped him talk to his father in the future.

    — Well, that Sean is SUCH AN ENIGMA! bumped Rodney a bit excited by the implications.
    — What do you mean? asked Janice, who just remembered that Sean Doran has a cousin named Dorean.
    — Who is he? Where is he? was asking Rodney now.
    Rodney was having a hard time remembering what had been inserted yet in the story about him.

    So Janice manifested the Wrick family tree in front of them, so that he could see better. She started by manifesting an acorn, then threw in on the grass, and it sprung forth in a little sapling with signs hanging from its branches.

    — Well, it’s all in the script, answered Janice, he’s Lord Wrick’s son.
    — Oh boy, I am in trouble again for not keeping up with the facts! Rodney sighed, and laughed…
    Janice laughed “So that you can surprise yourself again!”

    Rodney felt thankful for the sumafiness of Janice who was always prompt to display helpful hallucinations and reminders.

    Janice stopped the growth of the family tree for a moment and started to comment it.
    — See, in Becky’s time of the reality play, Sean is Lord’s Wrick son, and has just lost his wife Margaret, and got his two young children around their 10s.
    — When is Becky’s time then? Rodney wondered, I hadn’t though of that…
    Becky’s time for the reality play is around 2033…
    Then Janice had the tree grow again, and sprout more branches from Sean’s children:
    — …Now, Sean is the grand-father of the twins, except than the twin’s time is around 2057 if it had not changed yet. It’s so carefully woven, but it’s fun how it effortlessly came to fit in.
    TRUST AND ALLOWING AND GOING WITH THE FLOW cried Rodney and Janice in unison, in the realisation of how well all this was.

    Rodney was beginning to remember it all.
    — I just remember the part about Sean, so he is still a bit of a mystery
    — Yes, absolutely
    — We don’t really know do we why Hilarion didn’t mention him
    — Oh, there’s also the Margaret newspaper thing… Janice fumbled in her memory to find the proper link that would display the image of the newspaper cut just at the right of the family tree. Adding with a wink “with more dates to get bearings”
    — Ahahah, I’d love to have pocketfuls of ball bearings said Rodney who manifested a pocketful to distract him from the load of information. OH YES! he cried, I had forgetten about this! What an incredibly HUGE story this is…

    Rodney was squinting his dream eyes
    — So, Sean was into humanitarian effort after 2001…
    — His father actually I think, said Janice. He was a bit too young.
    — Oh OK, I misread, that’s hard to read!

    Then, all of a second, Rodney erupted in an uproarious laugh
    AHAHAHA, I had just forgotten to de-hallucinate these pince-nez spectacles! Now, it is much easier to read!
    Janice was laughing so hard, she thought she would shatter the hallucination with the wobbles of the soundless sounds.
    Then she added:

    Sean is born around 2000, a bit before.
    — OK, maybe he went to help the Tuaregs, Rodney was accessing some information now. Maybe he was the one who put the mummy in the locked room that India found.
    — You know I had something funny in store for the mummy mystery, Janice couldn’t help but laugh again. I imagined we could have inserted Old Manon, coming down to secretly drink from her old malt whiskey’s flask, and finding them messing up with her old dear stuffed cat…
    — Maybe the mummy was the same one that Dory saw in the oblong hole in the ground outside the cave, Rodney was still accessing flickering images swirling around his head. And Sean was there helping the Tuaregs and moved it to safety.
    Of course, years previously, Illi Fergusson, the archeologist had buried the mummy there too for safe keeping.

    Now, Janice was hooked:
    — Was it where Illi learned about shapeshifting tricks from the old tribe?
    Rodney noticed Janice’s funny remark and laughed before continuing:
    — The Tuaregs were conducting secret coleslaw experiments in the desert. In combination with sound and irrigation techniques, they were going to run the entire Sahara into a broccoli field.

    Janice was amazed at the cabbage “coincidence” and irrigation stuff with her dream of that morning. Of course she knew there where probably mis-interpretation of the imagery coming from Rodney’s visions, but something made sense.
    — Around which year? she asked
    — Arrggh I don’t know!… Then, taking a breath of dream air, Rodney said “1923”. When Illi learned shape-shifting trick, 1923.
    — It makes sense, said Janice who was now thinking of other dispersed informations about Illi Fergusson.
    — Yes, she learned from Dashine Ashara… Although who that is, I don’t yet know.
    — Wow, said Janice. She had felt a connection with the “da’sheen” sound. She continued: somewhere, Illi Fergusson has said: “my parents were aristocrats”
    — Yes, answered Rodney who was accessing again, they were, and they knew the Wildes .
    — And it was said too: “[…] a nurturing presence that reminded Illi of the maid she and her parents had in their cottage in South Africa”… like her parents were traveling a lot.
    — Ah, South Africa! Illi’s parents emigrated to South Africa with Sir Abingdon Portfellow, an elderly scholar on ancient artifacts and embalming.
    — Seems she knew John Lubbock too, said Janice again, reviving old data banks of information. Dates seem okay, so if she was around 30 in the Tuareg adventure, she could have met him.
    — Wow, said Rodney, this is even more interesting…

    “But we may sit at home and yet be in all quarters of the earth.” Janice had just summoned the voice of the naturalist and archaeologist. Rodney applauded “Lubbock said that? cool quote!”.
    — Yes, like Illi’s quote, which was from him “What we see depends mainly on what we look for”. I wonder if that’s one of your (Illi’s) overlapping focuses, said Janice

    — Well, Illi didnt stay long in South Africa with boring old whatever his name was, Rodney pursued
    — Yes, she was young with her parents. They were traveling…

    They were both amazed at the magical cooperation they were doing at that moment. Janice would have loved to share all of that with Qixi and Jacob, but probably their energies were present at the moment too, though not focused here.

    She then remembered something else:
    — Oh, and there is something else! Quintin’s dream of the woman detective. Let me fetch it she said, summoning now Quintin’s memory to talk to them.
    … by night, near a museum in London, in the 1920s. She was investigating a case of a strange disappearance near a small replicate of an Egyptian pyramid that had been put here for display. There had been an exposition of ancient artifacts in the museum, which had been recently unearthed by a team of archaeologists and graciously lent by Egypt’s officials. Strangely enough, the woman detective feels linked to the story, and is probably Dory
    Date fits again, she said in awe.
    — Perfect! said Rodney. She was of course Dory too, but in that focus she was Illi Fergusson… he slowed down, then said No! wait! The detective was another one of my focuses. The archeologist who stole the mummy for safekeeping was Illi.
    — Hmmm
    — Hmmm
    — So you are both the thief and the detective, the one who creates mystery for yourself, how interesting, giggled Janice.
    — Yes, and not only that Janice! Rodney was taking a mysterious air… I am the mummy too!

    Janice bust out laughing imagining Rodney in bandages. Yes, of course!
    Then, she had a name come with that: Apsh’un Shet she said, very self-absorbed.
    Now, that was Rodney’s turn to burst out laughing.
    — “I am not sure about that!”
    — Doubting my insights… mmm, how rude… Janice frowned then laughed again.
    — If you call me that, I may have to make you out to have a speech impediment
    — Sounds a good Egyptian name for me though, seems it means “Light of the Dawn
    — Does it? Oh that sounds nice…
    — Well, in some Egyptian dialect, yes. She was a Princess…
    — Hahaha! Reminds me of Aspen Shit. Rodney doubted Janice could be serious about that name, but Janice was now the one to be accessing some information.
    — Bit bossy Princess
    — Which dynasty?
    III rd, answered Janice, who fumbled in links of consciousness to find some timeline to project for them.
    — What year?
    Janice projected the timeline below then said
    — I’d say around 2657 B.C., in Ancients way of telling time.

    They both marveled at the splendid team work they had been doing, and hoped that the other focuses involved would be able to get some parts of their insights too.

    Rodney was seeing something else
    — There is also, a very fascinating link between Tassili in the Sahara and Egypt which is a mystery AND there is a connection with Egypt and Scotland too…
    Illi the gripshawk comes from the mysterious land of the Sands, south of the map fragment
    — We may unravel more than we think… Illi is an other dimensional focus of the Illi essence…
    — Yes she is. She is a connection too, being “lost” in the land of dragons after hopping through traveling portals…
    — Exactly
    — And they communicated because they are helping each other
    — Which is why she doesn’t always ‘fit’ into this reality’s energy configuration
    — And they have some difficulties at times with translations of other dimensional stuff
    — Yes! resulting in confusion!

    And they both laughed again, looking at the great tapestry of clues that was woven before their dream eyes.

    #297

    ……In case you feel like talking, don’t hesitate any moment, I’ll be here. Anytime.

    Love,

    Becky.

    PS, Becky added as an afterthought in her letter to dear old Wrick, Al’s so looking forward to meeting you in the ‘Amusement Park’ in Central Park, I hope you will disillusion him gently as to the nature of projecting and out-of body excursions……I will leave it to you, Wrick old boy, to decide how best to handle it. Ah, you wise old buffoon, I can hear you saying it now: Al’s choices are perfect, as are yours. Becky smiled fondly and added to the postscript: Wrick, you’re a brick, old stick.

    #296

    Al had always hated amusement parks.
    Funny, he noticed as he was always the one telling “be playful”…

    Anyway, Becky had insisted to bring them all in that new big traveling amusement park that had settled in Central Park, NY this year.
    Hopefully, Heavens know how, resourceful Becky Pooh had obtained VIP tickets for the opening, and it would be a very private visit, without too many people.

    Now, that could perhaps be interesting… After all, the whole entertainment park had been sponsored by Becky’s friends, the Wrick family, and Al and the others were dying of curiosity to meet the top of the crop, so to speak…

    #291
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Oh yes, it is all perfect, interjected Tina, in her new soft and gentle voice. Thank you so much for helping me to understand.

      AHAHAHAAHAH, laughed Becky, nearly snorting, Tina are you okay today?

      Well no actually, my head has been pounding for the last 24 hours. I think I have been taken over by those pesky aliens again. They tell me that the only way to get rid of them is to revert back to my own true self.

      Hope you do it soon muttered Becky, all this niceness is quite unnerving.

      #85
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Eric! Your latest comment resembles more than a little the episode of Lost I saw on tv last night. I take it you didn’t watch it too haha…..
        In a nutshell, an exhausted bird on the shore next to the sea that had separated from the other birds (which were scared off by a loud gunshot nearby)…..the guy intuitively knew exactly where to go to find it (he can see future probabilities, incidentally) and he picked the bird up…the point of which was to tie a message to the tagged bird in the hopes of being rescued off the desert island (which is not unlike the one Roselyn Chiara and Illi are ‘currently’ on….)…
        In other words, a ‘talking’ bird….
        OH and the bird in Lost was ‘from other lands’ too, a tagged migrating bird….

        #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.

        #280

        When Rudy the myna had come back crashing on the boat, it all became suddenly a huge uncontrollable chaos.
        The hovering menacing clouds that were looming in front of them were coming closer at a dreadful speed, and even more concerning were the rocks that were appearing everywhere now, that they had more and more trouble to avoid in betwixt the turmoils and eddies.

        So they had finally come to the Great Rift, Bådul was thinking. The back of the legendary water dragon that noone was known to have crossed.

        But Bådul knew better.
        He howled orders to get everybody ready at their posts, and felt reassured when he saw that Austor was maneuvering with dexterity and confidence through the rift.
        He ignored the crazy laugh of Razkÿ, the madman who was now shouting with a manic laughter “We all gonna diiie! AHAHAHAH! DIE! DIE!” Then winking at Bådul and laughing again.

        :fleuron: :fleuron:

        A few months earlier, Northern Åsgurdy

        A huge cloaked figure was riding in the middle of the deserts. The saurhse, a bit small for its rider, was getting tired, but the man wanted to move before the night came. Åsgurdy had a climate which made travels uneasy on land, and only on these bipedal saurians they named saurhses, could Åsgurdians easily travel on the burning hot sands by day. Then, they could gain the high plateaus of rock and ice, where the temperature was kept cold by the high chilly winds. But at night, the deserts would be chilly too, and the cold-blooded creature he was mounting would require a shelter.

        He knew that such a shelter wouldn’t be far away now.
        That region was mostly uncharted as it was fairly remote from all known cities, but that strange man he had met had said he was a traveler who knew were he could find something priceless.
        At that time, Badul had felt he had nothing to lose, and said to himself “when in doubt, go for the experience”.
        He had felt he could trust that man known to him only by a strange name, something like Gheorg.
        There had been nothing boastful about him, and he had been kind to him. He had been the only person in the World he had known to have given him back his dignity as a human being, and even more, to have given him a reason to live.
        He owed him a lot, and perhaps even more as he was now drawing closer to the cave… that same cave which was a mere cross on the torn map he had been drawing hastily before vanishing almost preternaturally, living him a bit of money and that map…

        ~~~

        Roselÿn had felt the urge to move somewhere else. This land didn’t resonate with her energy, and that of Rëgkvist, and of the few eggs the dragon had managed to lay, none had actually been able to hatch.
        It had affected her so much that she had even retreated from her sisters’ usual talks through the glubolíns.
        She needed to move on.

        ~~~

        When he entered the cave, Badul was disappointed. He could feel there had been someone living here quite recently, but it was like the cave was now abandoned. He hoped he could have found more answers, but now it was again like burning sand slipping through his fingers.

        In a fit of rage, he took a boulder as big as him and threw it across the cave with a roar.
        Something was brought down by his huge force further down into the cave and he heard it quite distinctly.

        He tied up the saurhse at the entrance of the cave, and entered it with determination, ducking through the tunnel too narrow for his big baby-faced frame. Then he found something glowing. At first, he thought it was some gold, but what kind of fool had been living here before and had been in such a haste to move as to forget gold?

        It was not gold. It was something like a broken shell. The broken bits were like a jigsaw puzzle and he wished he could make it one, as he was attracted by the strange radiance of the thing.

        :fleuron: :fleuron:

        Austor did not believe his eyes…
        They had crossed the Rift, all three of the ships.
        And it was nothing like the dark void they had nearly expected behind.

        It was an open sea, glistening in the sun, and all hope had come back through them all.

        #270

        Oörlaith heard the sound of a barking dog not far from her rookery. They were back with his master, and she knew at once their mission was complete.

        A few months ago she had met a strange man, he told her he was called Leonard, and the funny black dog that was following him everywhere was called Moufle. An ancient word for mitten… Well she didn’t ask why he’d call him like that, the dog was so hairy…

        Leonard was a lonely traveller, quite ancient as she could feel, but she wasn’t able to know his actual age. And there were some other weird feelings when she was focusing on his energy tone, something to do with time itself.

        When she first met him she knew he was the one she was looking for for ages. It’s been such a long time she hadn’t heard from her sisters. Oörlaith’d been having these dreams since they chose different direction many years ago, Malvina and Roselÿn, her precious ones. It wasn’t necessary for her then to keep objective contact with them through the glubolín.

        One year ago, the dreams stopped abruptly, and she tried several methods to reach her sisters. None of them with success. All her attempts failed, and she thought first she had lost her own power, but she knew one can not loose power of self, just forget it or create it on purpose. She realized then it was time to recreate these links more objectively.

        She couldn’t find her glubolín though. And Leonard arrived. Fortunately enough he had news from some strange events occurring in the land where she knew Malvina had settled her rookery. Was she still here with Leörmn?

        ***

        Yann had been feeling many impulses to draw scenes from his dreams and from the story they were creating with Quintin, Fiona, and Truth. It was an urge from inside and last night he had a very intense dream activity, most of which he couldn’t remember, it was more like a big forum with many different personalities all exchanging experiences and exploring new avenues.

        He was also attracted by old stories he was writing when he was a student, the one involving Georges and Salome, it seemed to him they had taken a life of their own now, and they felt very powerful, and most of all, they felt like really having fun.

        One of the drawing that was intriguing him was one that represented a sign of sort, in grayish sparkly clouds. He had given the pic a strange title, Oorlath. Yann had connected the name to an individual and was surprised when Quintin told him about a princess named Oörlaith. He was wondering who she was…

        She still had no face when he thought of her… maybe she was hidden for the moment… and he had the strangest thought that she knew Leonard, the man he’d been drawing with his black hairy dog.

        Haha, he had felt her smile.

        ***

        Chiara was looking for the boy she’d met last time in her dreams. Maybe he could give her some berries again, they were really tasty and fluberrish.

        But she’s been looking for him for so long she wonder if she could find the way again…

        Where she was now felt different. The light? The air? She took a deep breathe and just sat down on the grassy land. She had a quick thought that the land were more rocky than grassy a few seconds ago, but as she was feeling the grass under her hands, she dismissed the thought.

        She was hearing birds singing, it was quite funny the way they were bounding from one sound to the other and she could understand what they were saying, much gossips and a few compliments for a new mother ;)) nothing really important to her. She Jibbled.

        Lying down on the mossy land, she was looking… mossy? wasn’t it grassy? Now it’s mossy… hope that wouldn’t become mothy ;))

        She was looking the clouds, some were grayishly sparkling, she was enjoying it…

        “Are you looking for something” a voice said.

        Chiara quickly sat up and gazed at the fat lady who was standing before her.

        “Hahahaha, you found me at least my dear” laughed the woman.

        “My name is Roselÿn, and you are Chiara, aren’t you?”

        The little girl was gaping at Roselÿn… how could she possibly know her name?

        “I feel I know you :yahoo_thinking:” she said dreamily.

        “You make me feel like when I’m with my uncle Yann, and… there’s something else… oh!?”

        #248

        New York, October, 4 th 2033

        Albert had opened the newspaper, scanning distractedly through the various pages of text that would read aloud automatically when he was running his fingers through it. He was about to close it, when he noticed that article in the Life Focus section.

        (click for article)

        :fleuron:

        Dublin, October 5 th 2033

        Sean Doran Wrick had received tons of phone calls, emails and voice mails of condolences since the past few weeks, but he had not found the strength to answer any of them. Especially those coming from his father.

        That morning, he had received some letters that he would have left on top of the others, had he not recognized the round and cheerful calligraphy of Becky on one of them.

        He had known Becky when they had traveled together in Syria, and had enjoyed so much the lively young woman that they had kept in touch during all those years.

        He was pleased to read from her, and wanted to enjoy it fully.

        So he took his time to put to bed Guinevere and Peregrine before. Guinevere was the eldest, very mature for her barely 11 year old. She took great care of her younger brother, who was more dreamy and foolish. Peregrine would turn 10 next March… but he was hardly as responsible as his sister when she was his age…

        Dear Sean, Becky was writing

        I would have liked to finally take the time to write to you in better conditions, but I could not delay any longer. I saw the obituary in the newspaper, and wanted you to know that I share your grief and loss, and extend much love and support to you and to your dear little ones.

        I know you’re not the kind of person to be satisfied with banalities, so I will not dwell on this tragedy, and will remember the best moments we shared together.

        I still continue my studies and practices on dramatherapy, and till now it has proved very beneficial, in many ways. I have learned so many things. It’s quite rewarding. We are a close-knit group of fools (or drôles as Al loves to say, as some of his ancestors come from the bayous!), and that is very much enjoyable when things that tragic come to one’s reality.

        In case you feel like talking, don’t hesitate any moment, I’ll be here. Anytime.

        Love,

        Becky.

        :fleuron:

        Orkney Islands, October 4 th, 2057

        This year again, Sean Doran had not answered his father’s calls.

        This September 23 th was the twenty fourth anniversary of the disengagement of Lord Wrick’s daughter-in-law, and this was always a very somber period for the family.

        Hopefully, the twins were here to enliven the old mansion, for as long as their parents, Lord Wrick’s grand-children, would be traveling. And of course, there had been the unexpected return of the books, which had been comforting too.

        Nonetheless, Hilarion Wrick was sad, and Bill the painter was uneasy as to how he could not quite put right the portrait of the old dragon…

        #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:

          #232

          A few days after Sam and Becky’s conversation on the phone, they were having a rehearsal.

          Just at the moment when they felt stuck again, despite Sam’s moves, Al and Tina, a couple of friends came crashing into the small theater room, and were greeted by an icy cold silence. “Icy” is an exaggeration of course, said Tina, “it just meant I had to put a jacket on again today”.

          Sorry for being late! said Al a bit uneasy.
          — Oh you and your uneasiness! said Tina. And I’m sure we’re arriving at the perfect time.
          — Oh, well, I’m not sure of anything today, said Becky. I’m sick of being force-fed coleslaw, and rigging down holes for myself.

          A silence was on the scene.

          :fleuron:

          At the same time, somewhere on the deck of his ship, Bådul was remembered of the landscapes of his land. He had not really appreciated them before, but now, he was finding them dear to him. They were for the most part a mixture of sandy dunes, from which at times peaks of icy rocky mountains would stick out. Lately he had felt like one of these peaks sticking out of the sands. The sands were shifting.

          :fleuron:

          Somewhere in Malvina’s cave.

          Malvina had been polishing the last dry eggs that she had found and that would not hatch. One of them had some interesting perfect round shape, and a very transparent shell, and it gave her an idea.

          She asked Leörmn to come.

          :fleuron:

          Quintin’s bedroom.

          [1:01] The clock was saying. Quintin had just awoken from a dream about an elderly woman who was showing him some drawings. These were not actually drawings, but in fact, they were called by the lady “glassart”. It was made, she said, of coloured sands, and would be vitrified by some flame. Quintin in that dream had thought the designs rather crude, but had found the idea interesting, and with great potential.

          :fleuron:

          Leörmn came almost instantly, appearing in a puff of teal smoke.

          Oh, I see… he said, reading Malvina’s mind. And I think I have the perfect sands to go with it.

          :fleuron:

          — Why hasn’t that pirate, Badass…
          Badul, corected Al
          — Whatever, Becky pursued imperturbably, that pirate Baddock used traveling portals to go and look for the eggs? Why the seas? Sounds a bit complicated and with lots of dangers too.
          — Good question, answered Al. Well, don’t want to answer for everyone, but in my perception…
          — Oh, get lost with your “in my perception” thing, that’s becoming tiring… sighed Tina
          — OK. So, for me, they have forgotten much about magic in his land.
          — Makes sense… added Sam dreamily… In fact, I’m not sure after all that Badul is only after gold. I think he has found some old desert dragon egg in a cave lost in his country and hopes to revive it, with the help of the people who still know about magic.
          — Which would explain the quest… said Al
          — Yeah, and he would have hidden that to the rest of the crew, probably… said Tina

          :fleuron:

          Leörmn had now finished assembling the magical artifact.

          — That’s one of our most beautiful magical artifact I’d say, Malvina gleamed
          — Oh yes it is. And how would you call it?
          — Let’s see…

          :fleuron:

          sabulmantium !

          Everyone cracked up at the word that Al had just blurted out. They had decided to have some distraction to alleviate the stress on the play, and they had a fun improvisation game, saying stupid things that went through their minds.

          — Hey! Don’t laugh like that, it’s something very serious actually, said Al tongue-in-cheek. Let me see…
          — Hahahaha, the others continued
          — Well, it’s a divination device, or a sort of compass in a way. I see it as a globe made of glass, with coloured sands in it, and when you focus on it, the sands take all sorts of three dimensional shapes, and become alive…
          — Wow! Tina couldn’t help but say.

          :fleuron:

          Leörmn, as Malvina had been telling him (or vice versa), had put the sabulmantium in one of the tunnels, to a place where he knew Arona would find it, and probably put it to good use for her future adventures.

          #217
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Never speechless for long, Dory wondered out loud if she should just hurry along into the cave and hope to catch up with some other expeditioners, or explore the area around the cave first.

            Have a look around, a voice in her head said. Ever the wanderer, always curious to just see what’s around that next corner, and the next….Dory wandered through the strange tall rock shapes. In a sort of natural passageway between vertical rock faces she came upon a group of people squatting next to a large oblong hole in the ground. The womans shawls and headscarves were flapping madly in the wind as she conversed with a boy of about 13, and it seemed to Dory as though they were discussing moving something so that it wouldn’t be found. Dory stood perfectly still just watching, and somewhat strangely they didn’t seem to notice her standing there.

            An older man with curly grey hair and a long maroon djelaba and a tall narrow brimless black hat started to hurry away, as if a decision had been made.

            Dory watched him until he disappeared from view. When she looked back towards the hole in the ground, it had vanished, and so had the woman and the boy.

            PPFFFT! Dory had been deserted again. She turned and headed back towards the cave. Suddenly she felt hungry, and an image of a plate of cool crunchy coleslaw popped into her head.

            I hope they’ve laid food on in the cave, she said.

            #213
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Dory slept all the way to the cave, dreaming about being a traffic policeman. It was one of those never ending hopelessly chaotic dreams, in which small bits of progress were immediately cancelled out by an influx of more of whatever the problem was. The more she blew her whistle and ranted at the cars, the worse the cars became entangled.

              You! You there, go THAT way! NO not that way…OY YOU! keep to the left…keep in line there keep in line…OY NOT THAT WAY!

              Ususally in dreams like this Dory woke up in the middle of the frustration and chaos, but this time the dream changed course abruptly. Dory simply walked away from her podium in the middle of the busy Italian intersection.

              Let them all go wherever they bloody well like, she said. Not my responsibility.

              When Dory woke up, the van had arrived at the cave, she was feeling refreshed and cheerful, and was looking forward to her excursion inside the cave.

              #206

              India Louise had been switching her own book with Cuthbert’s that night. And as she was exploring some of the stories told in his, he was having a peek into hers.

              Very quickly, he became aware of a whole new continent, in that World, across the Middle Seas. In that continent far North of the one where Malvina’s was living, lived some intrepid people. They were strong with big voices, and a bit quarrelsome too. Their ways had forgotten lots about Magix and they placed most of the value into tangible items.

              The next page, a man was sailing across the Middle Seas with a handful of trusted men. He was a captain pirate, named Båd Al’Guz, which meant, Båd son of Guz. His crew referred to him as Bådul.

              Cuthbert was intrigued by this man, and had begun to discuss with him mentally, asking who he was, who were his people. The same as Cuthbert had been very innocently doing with gentle Malvina.

              But Bådul was tricky, and after a bit of a surprise, very soon discovered that the little boy could be a very interesting informant, though an unusual one.

              And in fact, his information was much more interesting than that which the shamans of King Wulfrick babbled in the most inspired manner.

              Till now, from the mouths of the buck-pelts clothed shamans had only came stupid gibberish that the King and his court gobbled endlessly. Something about “YaWn”, as they said: You animate Worlds neatly .

              How stupid was that? Their only answers were useless to him, they were only telling him that he activated and animated the Worlds neatly, and that, in short, nothing was fixed and he could do anything.

              Well, with that boy, that was different. He was talking about a cave with gilded dragon eggs, and THAT was of a great value to Bådul.

              But of course, he would not frighten the young boy and pretended that his intentions were that of an explorer, trying to discover new shores and new continents, so as to become closer to understand from where he came, and hopefully make people aware of their closeness to each others.

              He was such an eloquent actor that he almost shed a tear saying that sentence.

              As a matter of fact, for as long as he remembered, he had been wandering in many situations, and lots of them had not been very pleasant. Born from uncaring parents, as lots, if not all, of his people were, working as a janitor in a sordid tavern, then as a warden (if not executioner when requested) in an even more sordid jail… Were the Gods to be blamed for that? Well, according to the shamans, he was the only one to be blamed, because he did not accept his responsibility as a weaver of Worlds.

              Idiots.

              At least, he had found his passion. He love sailing, and taking riches for his pleasure. Whatever then, he would take his share, and not care about what was next.

              At least, if he could coax the boy into revealing more about that cave.

              #184

              The transmugrification was about to start.

              Inspired by the improvised tune of Malvina, Leörmn had felt new arrangements coming for the cave.

              He had been checking out every living being in the cave, and wanted to make things less complicated for them, without startling them too much. For creatures, that was easy, he could communicate well with them, and they knew the changes would be temporary.

              But for humans, let alone gripshawks, that was more difficult as they could play deaf as pleased them.

              Hopefully, the gripshawk was in good hands outside the cave, and that was probably better for her, as she would probably have hurt herself more than was necessary in not listening to the exhortations to stay calm.

              As for the young adventuress, she was sleeping joyfully, and the little glukenitch that Leörmn had left to her side to keep watch and warn him in case she would be too distressed was silently watching over her.

              Írtak was aware that the process was about to begin, as he had been trained by Malvina to listen to the flimsiest changes in the cave, and how his body was responding to these subtle modifications. This one would probably become of great dragon rider, but for now he was young and needed to hone his abilities. His father had been renouncing of telling him what was best and most reasonable for him to do, and allowed him to spend much time in the cave. He was not really interested by these magical things, but he knew they were important for his son, and was encouraging, in his own manner.

              As for Malvina, she was unaffected in a way, because she was part of Leörmn as much as he was a part of her, and it was like they were moving hand in hand. These hiding and seeking the eggs were like a playful game between them, because their interests were different, but all in all, they were one, and trusted each other completely.

              The more troublesome was perhaps Sanso, the wanderer. This one seemed trapped in between Worlds. The caves at times also acted as portals between Worlds, and this one had been unknowingly crossing the Worlds, as the delimitations between imagination and reality were only in words, and did not really exist. Leörmn was hoping he would not appear in the midst of the ruckus.

              So, on one of the wooden decks near the apartments of Malvina, he sat, overlooking the glowing eggs, and bathing into the music.

              Closing his eyes, he felt every part of the cave as if it were an extension of his own body, which was in fact much bigger than this current appearance, so big in fact that it was the World itself. And every creature breathing in it was a very cherished part of his body, and he slowly breathed in and out.

              He envisioned a great light pouring from the volcanic insides of the cavern, which inundated the cave in a misty warmth. It was a loving light that neither glukenitches nor schpurniatz feared. And the sinuous insides of the caves expanded and straightened in huge corridors, and doors disappeared, and gorgeous paintings from the mind and craft of Malvina decorated the walls in rich colours.

              And near the platform, inside the hall, a huge table sprung from the floor, for the banquet that was to come.

              And a new egg was laid somewhere in the cave, glowing of an emerald tint.

              This “one” was a bit different though…

              #163

              Hells Bells muttered Arona to herself , this had better not be some sort of a test that dragon is putting me through

              As she stepped forward into the darkness of the chosen path, she had a sudden sense she was walking off the edge of a cliff.

              Arona had been practising quietness for a long time. The journey had been lonely at times and offered her many opportunities to practise her skills. There were so many parts of her wanting to have a say, discuss, analyse her every move, so that she would become paralysed and unable to move at all. In desperation almost she had learned to still the voices and find that part of herself she most believed herself to be. The part which believed in the existence of magic.

              Well done, and shall you fly?

              Arona hesitated. It was that voice again. She was not sure if this new voice came from her own thoughts, but she felt not.

              Great, she thought, perfect time to finally lose it. Stuck in a dark cave with a troublesome dragon.

              Shrugging her shoulders she went still inside and moved her body forward.

              Leormn (with two little dots above the “o”) felt deeply humbled when he saw the extraordinary bravery of Arona.

              It was hard for the proud dragon to consider, but he did wonder if sometimes he went too far with his joking. After all for him the cave was a playground, clay he could mould at will, or at a whim. Perhaps one could even call it a work of art, he thought proudly.

              But he did realise that for the girl, who was newer to the ways of magic (although showed the most tremendous potential he grudgingly had to admit), he realised it represented something far deeper, a dual potential, the hope of light, but also the possibility of the deepest darkness.

              For a moment he even considered revealing his whereabouts.

              She is fine , Malvina answered his thoughts, she loves the challenge. It is what drew her here.

              #158

              Illi set off at a brisk trot in search of the cave. A deafening clap of thunder made her flinch and lose her footing. She slipped, and slid down a steep slippery wet bank, tumbling and rolling out of control. Arrgghh! How embarrassing, she thought, I hope no-one is watching….OUCH! She banged her head on a strangely perfect long oblong stone, which catapulted her into the air and into a cork oak tree. Lordy! She clung onto the knobbly grey bark, trembling and gasping.

              Well, I may as well have a smoke and catch my breath, she thought, at least it’s fairly dry here in this tree. She inched upwards until she found a comfortable fork in the branches and leaned her back against the trunk, fishing in the pockets of her tartan jacket for her Camels and her lighter.

              Ahhhh….that’s better! Now, where are we? Illi felt more optimistic, and surveyed the terrain. AHA! In a little dip behind the tree was a dark hole in the ground. That will lead to a cave, I’m sure of it! Illi lit another smoke, musing that she might never have found the cave entrance had she not banged her head on the strange oblong stone, and hurtled into the tree.

              Feeling much more enthusiastic, Illi climbed down out of the tree and went to investigate the dark hole in the ground. HHmmmm…no sign of a rope, or steps, no light, she wondered what to do next. A voice boomed in her head TRUST! Trust is the key!

              Suddenly feeling very devil-may-care and adventurous, Illi dived into the hole head first… wwwwhhhheeeeeee HOOOOO…… the free-fall was exhilarating, exciting, wildly fun….and then a little voice of doubt crept in, Are you stark raving MAD?

              Whallop! Illi landed on something soft, something sodden and smelling a bit of mold. Momentarily stunned, she just lay there, in a heap on the soft wet lump.

              “Holy MOLY” the soft wet lump shouted “Get OFF me! How incredibly RUDE to land on me like that without so much as an introduction!”

              Illi trembled.

              #157
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                For a moment Arona panicked, then she stood completely still while the strange flying creatures settled back down, and tried to think.

                She knew what she had to do, she had to sense which tunnel felt the lightest and then follow that. A perfect test for her intuitive abilities she had been learning to follow.

                Look where they have got you so far, whispered a little voice in her head … or she thought it was from her own head … or was it ?…. everything felt so strange all of a sudden.

                So she looked at each tunnel in turn, and even looked back the way she had come (but to be honest, she loved an adventure and did not really want to turn back) and she felt the left tunnel beckoning her.

                Huh let us hope it is the one leading furtherest away from that dragon, she thought grumpily

                You don’t mean that came the little voice again.

                No, thought Arona, I don’t mean that really, even his silly dragon face would be better than this aloneness.

                She moved quietly forward, not wishing to disturb any more flying things, and entered the tunnel.

                #141

                Dory had been taking some days of vacation in Madagascar, as she had delayed that break in her passionate archeology studies for much too long already. But it was now the beginning of the rainy season, and there hadn’t been much people here in her hotel, which was not displeasing at all, even if she usually liked more exchanges.

                Hopefully, today had been a bright sunny day, a sort of relief in between torrents of rains that had poured, and she had seen some organized excursion which had caught her eye. A funny enticing winking lemur picture on a wall, when she had walked to have her breakfast, and that was all she’d needed to enlist.

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