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  • #2031

    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      It’s quite poetic today:

      Already expect work
      Shall black round focus
      Watermelons times
      Window night
      Movie hope
      Creation form
      Georges met hot Madame
      Theresa floor

      #1184

      “So we’ll be moving as soon as the others come back from their trip. Very well, that will be a great opportunity to see new environments for YikesVincentius acknowledged the news with his usual composure.

      “Very well then, I hope you are not too worried about Arona, but she…”
      “Not at all” Vincentius answered with a smile.
      “Oh… Okay then. Perfect!”

      Malvina added as if to make sure he had understood everything properly “So, I’ll be at my friend’s den for a few days. Georges and Salome will be here in case you need anything, and of course Buckie, though he might be a bit unpredictable…”

      “Have a safe voyage” so Vincentius, who was not of many words when it wasn’t about saying something meaningful, ended the conversation.

      :fleuron:

      To go to see her friend Yimho, Malvina wanted to look pretty —not dashing, but not looking like a country girl either. She reached for the linen embroidered dress with the zynder patterns. She loved it, it would be perfect.

      Yimho was a guy living nearby she had known briefly from her days of Sorcery training, who had a rejuvenating cave situated just under a hot spring, so that water was running almost everywhere inside the cave. On the walls, the floor, little pools everywhere. Yimho had this uncanny interest in golfindels and was telling all sorts of stuff to entertain people with; stuff that he got from tuning himself to the consciousness of the creatures.
      Malvina was thinking she would have a nice time there, though the echoes of clicking sounds throughout Yimho’s dwelling were a bit disturbing…

      #1171
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        “Mr Ryell?”
        “Yes?”
        “It’s such an honor to meet you, your carvings are absolutely gorgeous! I’ve bought one for my mother, she loves your creations so much!”

        Sam H. Ryell, known as Sam to his friends, was waiting in his studio for Tina and Al to come pick him up for the Hallowe’en celebration. His exposition of vitrified watermelon and pumpkin carvings had attracted lots of folks from all corners of New Venice, quite unexpectedly.
        He wasn’t too sure he deserved all the compliments, but if the lady’s mother loved his carvings, why muddy one’s pleasure.

        Truth was, since he’d came back from the Floridisles, he’d felt completely uninspired to carve any longer. All the carvings that were on display were at least three months old. And the more recent of these were not actually of his doing,… not quite entirely.
        He wanted to do something else, try other materials. No matter what they all said; he was fed up with vegetables.

        “Perhaps I’ll try nuts next, what do you reckon, Foxam?”

        The little nine-tailed fox yelped at him approvingly.

        #1167
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          a hotel room in Auckland, New Zealand

          Veranassesee closed her report silently.

          What a mess it all had been. Given the circumstances, she had acted with unbelievable self-possessed strength and wit.
          She had little doubt she would be fired though. The Confregation wasn’t exactly known for their blanket acceptance of excuses for people’s short-failures —or worse, for their lack of accepting their own responsibility. Quite the contrary.
          She would be expected to resign, and even the smoldering hot and sexy Agent Gabriele’s intercession wouldn’t be seen with a complaisant eye.

          “No matter…” She had managed to keep everyone she could out of trouble or certain death, and for that she was quite proud of herself. Even if her job was most of the time to actually make sure they would meet their death more quickly. Perhaps she was getting too soft for that job.

          The phone rang abruptly cutting her off her trail of thoughts.

          “Yes?” (…) “Mmmhhh mmmh” (…) “Okay. Fine. Thank you.”

          She would be presenting her report’s conclusions at the hearing tomorrow, and then would be free to go. Start a new life maybe; or get back to Mahiliki who was for now confined with the aircraft’s pilot in one of the Confregation’s detention centers for interrogation. They’d say it wouldn’t be long; they wanted to make sure no crucial information had leaked.
          She couldn’t really pity Mahiliki; he was cute… harmless in many ways; she was sure he would be out in a matter of days,… and unsurprisingly get back to his peasant’s life on Fikitupi.

          As for herself… that may be a whole other story.

          #1146

          “Oh My God” exclaimed Bea. “I had a dream about the DOOR!”

          “Oh, well done! The question is, did you remember it?” asked Leonora.

          “As a matter of fact, Leo, I did!” replied Bea with a happy smile. “As a matter of fact, although I’m not too sure how factual matter really is, but anyway, I did remember the dream, and I wrote it all down.”

          “Gosh, up early this morning, weren’t you?” asked Leo, who was sipping coffee at the kitchen table and watching the sun come up over the mountains through the open door.

          “Oh I didn’t write it down this morning, silly! I wrote it all down last week.”

          Leo placed her cup on the table and rubbed her eyes, frowning. “Wait a minute, let me get this straight…..”

          Bea laughed ~ she was in rather a jolly mood, despite the early hour. “I had the dream last week, Leo, but I only just realized this morning that the dream was about THE DOOR

          “So what did you learn about the door, then?”

          Bea frowned. “Well I’m not really sure. But it seemed so significant because it was that scary door, you know, the dreams I’ve been having for years about that door in that bedroom that’s too scary to get near, never mind go through….would you like to read it? Maybe you can interpret it for me.”

          “If I must” sighed Leonora “You better pour me another cup of coffee then and pass me those cigarettes.”

          Leonora read from Bea’s Dream Journal:

          I was sorting winter clothes out on an upstairs landing of a cottagey gabled house,
          and decided to use the upstairs bedroom instead of the downstairs one.
          The bedroom was a recurring dream one, gabled attic with dormer windows kind of room.
          Then I saw the door and remembered this was the door I was always too terrified
          in dreams to open; it was so scary that I always wanted to use this bedroom
          but never could because of that terrifying door and whatever lay beyond it.

          “Didn’t you do a waking dream and go through that door?” Leonora asked. “Oh, yes here is is…”

          Remembering that I had done a waking dream and gone beyond the door once,
          I marched up to the door, flung it open and strode through.
          Suddenly an almost overpowering fear and dread stopped me in my tracks
          but I carried on anyway.

          “Oh, bloody well done, Bea! Good for you, girl!” Leonora could be a bit waspish at times, but she was a kind old soul underneath.

           It was a bit like a old slightly shabby but once grand hotel foyer, high ceilings
          (not the same as when I went through in the waking dream, which was then rows
          of closed doors on either side).  The foyer opened out on the left into a large old
          fashioned restaurant dining room, with one person over on the far side sitting at
          a table.  I carried on straight ahead through opaque etched glass double doors
          onto an upstairs outdoor terrace.  There was a city scene below.  On the left
          was a shallow ornately shaped ornamental pool.

          “Reminds me a bit of our trip to Barcelona, this does, eh” Leo commented.

          “Yeah, I’m sure that had something to do with the gargoyle imagery” replied Bea.

          A woman squeezed past me holding a small thick book and I knew she was
          going to jump off the terrace which was several storeys up.  She collapsed into
          the pool, writhing backwards, baring a flat white breast and dropping the book.

          “Flat breast, hahah Bea, that weren’t you then, obviously, was it!”

          Bea chuckled. “Not bloody likely! I reckon that bit slipped in the dream because I can’t find a comfortable bra lately”

          “You and me both” replied Leo. She continued reading from the journal.

          I picked up the book, and somehow ended up with two books, which seemed like guide books. I couldn’t hold onto the two books with the creature in my hand, which was weird, like a very heavy small furry grey reptile, or gargoyle.

          “Maybe it was a baby dragon?”

          “Don’t say that!” retorted Bea, who had a horror of dragons. “The thought did cross my mind too, though” she admitted.

          I was holding it with one hand round its middle and the fat grey belly of it
          was bulging out under my fingers.  It was unbelievably heavy for such a small creature
          and I didn't want to hold it, so I passed it to a boy. (Twice I was holding the creature,
          and twice I passed it to the boy, but I can't recall the other time)
          Back inside the building, I followed the boy down a big wide staircase that
          curved round to the right at a landing below.  I started to fall down the stairs and
          knew it was because of the book that I was holding that the woman had been holding
          when she collapsed into the pool, so I threw the book down the stairs to save myself,
          and felt the tumbling down from the books perspective, although I stayed in
          the same place, clutching the banister.

          “Well I am amazed that you remembered so much, Bea! Going through the doors and finding the books reminds me of Jane’s Library you know”. Leo was starting to go into an altered state.

          “Are you going into an altered state, Leo?” asked Bea. “Are you channeling Juani Ramirez again?”

          “The creature, the gargoyle, was representing ‘a different species of awareness, of consciousness’” continued Leonora, as Bea hastily started taking notes. Leo wouldn’t remember what she’d said while she was channeling Juani, so it was essential that Bea record what was said.

          “The weight was a marker to help you recall the creature, as well as being symbolic of denseness”

          Bea couldn’t help making a snirking noise. Dense eh, she said under her breath.

          “The door” continued Leonora “Is a signpost, a marker.”

          Just then the phone rang, snapping Leonora out of the trance. Bea picked up the telephone, but there was nobody there.

          “Pffft” said Bea.

          “More coffee?”

          #1142

          “I had an absolutely brilliant revelation last night” Bea was saying “about The Door. Buggered if I can remember what it was, though.”

          “Well fat lot of use that is then, Bea” replied Leonora. “Any snapshots? Can you remember anything at all?”

          “Well, there was a big pale green patch that floated down, then there was the floating part, oh and all the coloured light flashes…the French girl, the old fashioned scene…..and that weird change of focus, sort of off centre and a bit out of body, with the guy behind my right shoulder shouting HEY every time my focus started drifting back to normal. Oh, and the spiraling part, that was cool too!” Bea was starting to drift off into another world just thinking about it.

          “Yes, well, now we know all about The Door” said Leonora sarcastically. “Very helpful, Bea, well done.”

          “That’s it!” shouted Bea, leaning forward in excitement. “It’s about blocking energy!”

          Leonora rolled her eyes.

          “Holding tightly to energy, that’s what the closed door is. I can have an open door, and still be free to create who walks through it. We don’t lock the door here, do we, but we don’t get any intruders.”

          “Maybe that’s because we’ve got nine dogs” said Leo. “And anyway, define intruder, in a ‘you create your own reality’ context. What’s the difference between an intruder, and a wonderful surprise?”

          Bea was stumped for a moment. “That’s a good question, Leo, we’ll come back to that in a bit, but let me finish telling you this before I forget again.
          I used to mentally open a big double door every time I did a meditation or went to sleep” Bea continued “and I havent opened that door in months. Well, sometimes it’s open, obviously, but I dont seem to throw the doors open wide anymore, you know, to other energies objectively, if you see what I mean.”

          Bea was starting to ramble. “I used to invite any Tom, Dick and Harry to my meditations as long as they weren’t aliens.”

          “What about the dogs in raincoats dimension?” asked Leo “What were they if they weren’t aliens?”

          “Oh, they were alright, I liked them. Oh you know what I’m like about that other dimensional stuff, don’t get me started on that now. I think occasionally things happen and I get rattled, and shut the door for a bit.”

          “Right, so let see if I’ve got this straight” said Leonora “There’s more than one layer to this Door thing because what you’ve just told me is what’s going on in your reality. The question is, what’s going on in mine?”

          “Buggered if I know, LeoBea replied. “Fancy a cuppa?”

          #1136
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            The interior of the Fly-boat was a bit like a Tardis, in that it was very much bigger on the inside than it appeared from the outside, and quite a different shape, too. While the exterior of the fly-boat resembled a cross between a duck and a bee, the interior was circular. There was a high point in the centre of the ceiling, and richly embroidered tapestries draping down to the floor in sumptuous folds, looking for all the world like a yurt.

            Yukailli Airlines has a decidedly exotic and oriental air, Dory thought as she perused the in flight magazine, which was written in a charming but indecipherable script resembling the Voynich Papers.

            “This is your captain speaking” a disembodied voice boomed. “Welcome aboard! My name is Ignoratio Elenchi, and I trust that you will have a most enjoyable flight with Yukailli AirBoats. There will be no obligation to fasten your seatbelts and you may smoke all through the flight. Our cabin crew will be preparing Vedic Stew over an open fire in the central area of the craft at 11:11. For your in-flight entertainment, up on the open air flight deck there will be a continuous light show by Aurora Borealis. If you want us to stop the flyboat at any point to take snapshots” continued Ignoratio, “Please don’t hesitate to ask.”

            #1119

            Sanso didn’t really have a plan at that point, so he just started walking, walking along the cave tunnels, trusting that he would find another portal/cave entrance soon to another adventure.

            Such was his trust and superb state of allowing,that no sooner had he thought of finding a portal and a new adventure, as he rounded the very next corner, a blaze of sunshine streamed into the cave and a gust of hot desert wind.”

            Becky had to admit there were some gems in amongst all these bloopers.

            “Such was his trust and superb state of allowing, that no sooner had he thought of finding a portal and a new adventure, as he rounded the very next corner….”

            #1114

            Inside the cave, the presence of Leormn, though not completely gone, had diminished strongly. Most of the creatures inside the cave were thriving on his presence and his continuous reshaping of the corridors or the chambers. His presence was fading out gradually, and some of the more sensitive creatures were beginning to feel a discomfort, a kind of emptiness or a sensation of cold.

            Malvina was not alarmed yet, it was a good thing he had allowed himself that little escapade. In a subtle way, he was reconciling some aspects of himself that he had been unaware of yet, and it was also a surprise to Malvina that the gates would reopen in that particular time frame, to the long lost sister of the Duane. Her awareness of what her dragon was doing was dim, and it had been so since the door had shut after the passage of Arona. This young girl had more than one trick up her mouldy cloak, and though she was unaware of most of them, she had an innate sense of using them wittingly.

            Malvina smiled at the thought that she was quite similar to the girl when she was young… a long time ago.

            But for now, she had other processes to set in motion. She focused on herself and adjusted her energy to match the signature of her friends Georges and Salome. It didn’t took long. Their presence was quite strong. As they were busy at the moment, she decided to go for a walk and meet them on her way.

            :fleuron:

            Georges and Salome were in the pool chamber that Leormn had kindly created for them inside the cave. It was continuously provided in hot water by a spring located on the ceiling and several families of glukenitch had furnished the place with the perfect amount of light…

            Georges was following her progression from a ledge made of a rock similar to granite. He’d always been fascinated by her way of expressing her grace and technical mastery in any domain. When they had met, she couldn’t swim… and she wouldn’t. It’d been years later, when she had got rid of her wariness of water that she had considered the idea.
            Now she was as comfortable inside and outside water, as well as in many different environments.

            Being continuously connected, their energy field mingled in such an intimate way, he could easily turn his attention on her physical sensations; all the tiniest movements of the water upon her skin and also all of the adjustments she was making to her body inside and outside to improve the efficiency of her movements.

            He dived off his observation point to play with her.
            Alerted by his movement, she went deeper into the pool. He knew that she hadn’t modified her body to the point of incorporating gills, because it was usually difficult for her to get rid of them afterward. She had a soft spot for apnea, though and she was quite able of staying under water for lengthy amount of time.

            Still focused on his swimming, he began to redirect certain aspects of his body consciousness. Some were unnecessary for his purpose, so he got rid of them; and he needed to give some other qualities to his skin. It took him a few seconds to shape-shift and he focused on his new physical senses to indicate him where she was.

            When she realized what Georges was doing, she resisted the impulse to go to the surface.
            What is he up to? she thought. When he’s in the process of shape-shifting his attention is so oriented inside that I can’t usually get any impression about his new shape, but

            A flash of light illuminated the water around him, and the rhythm of the blinking cells of his new skin was creating a time related pattern with an hypnotic effect. Salome was feeling drowsy and she had to maintain her attention on herself or she’d better get back to the surface soon. If she wanted to play with him now, she would have to change form too.

            #1038
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Serendib Facility, Sri Lanka ~ (2035)

              Becky had forgotten all about her new babies now that she had the handsome and charming Gayesh in her sights. During the hot lazy days at the facility while Gayesh was working, she passed her time idly, swimming in the pool, dozing on the terrace, or randomly roaming around the Internet. Sometimes she checked Secondary Clone Becky’s blog all about bringing up triplets and coping with difficult husbands but soon got bored with such mundane affairs. Occasionally she worked on the Reality Play, and often sent reminders to Tina about the Facility , hoping that she would decide to join her.

              Perhaps I could entice her over here with the promise of a menage à trois with the delectable Gayesh, Becky mused, rather wickedly. I’m not sure I want to write about that in the Reality Play though, she thought, perhaps I could add it to my old journals, and then send Tina a link.

              #1033
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Dory was just about to set off for Rita’s house for the appointment with the hairdresser when she read the news. Rita was getting married soon and wanted to experiment with different hairstyles and make-up, and Dory had planned to join her for a bit of a make-over , out of curiosity, but the news of cyclone Ycart and its trail of devastaion caught her attention.

                Intuitively she knew that the island that she had tried to book a flight to while she was on a Heathrow stop-over had been affected by the cyclone, and right then and there Dory made up her mind to go to the island on the pretext of helping the relief aid workers. In actuality she was merely curious ~ well, more than ‘merely’ curious, she was feeling the pull of an interesting probability choice.

                #1029
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Elizabeth frowned as she hung up the telephoone. Finnley’s news was rather disturbing.

                  Al has gone crazy!” he’d said. “He is sending everyone to the island and killing spiders and magpies and lord knows what else; that couple with the bad skin, they’ve been stuck inside their hotel room for weeks….”

                  “Whoo, whoo there, slow down a minute, WHICH couple with bad skin?” Elizabeth asked.

                  “Your couple with bad skin! They were your characters!” Really, Elizabeth could be exasperating at times, Finnley thought, and not for the first time.

                  “Oh, yes, them. HHHMMM.” Elizabeth had been silent for so long on the telephoone that Finnley hung up in frustration. He would communicate with Elizabeth telepathically instead.

                  #1024
                  Jib
                  Participant

                    Dory was digging in her garden. Today was hot and sunny, but she was an archeologist, she could handle it!
                    She had a dream last night about a little bird talking to her and telling her there was something precious buried in her garden… well it was something like that, she couldn’t really remember… maybe it was in another dream… did she watch a series last night? The boys were still sleeping soundly, so she’d ask later maybe.

                    The ground of the garden was tough! no wonder she never dug it before, or even did any gardening.
                    Crap! She was wondering where the treasure could be, her garden was big, and she had begun under a tree, but maybe it wasn’t there… it seemed to her the perfect location though… it was like an X showing the place. It had always seemed a bit crooked to her anyway. She could get rid of it shortly with a truck… She’ll ask the boys later for that… maybe near the portal stones?
                    She left here digging under the crooked tree and started removing the stones of what she used to call the portal.

                    #1006

                    Bea sighed loudly, and dragged a tissue across her sweaty face. Leonora obviously hadn’t heard her, so Bea sighed loudly again.

                    What’s up with you now? asked Leo, who wasn’t really paying attention to Bea’s incessant whining.

                    Oh I dunno, I just don’t know what I want to do, Bea grumbled. My head’s in a fog. I’ve got hundreds of ideas, but I don’t want to do any of them badly enough to even think about starting anything. So then I try to sort a few thing out, you know, so I can bloody find things again, and I just end up with a big pile of bloody miscellaneous. It’s the bane of my life, all the miscellaneous stuff that defies categorizing. I should have been called Miss A. Laneous. I start to sort things out and then I get sidetracked; I never finish any sorting out, I just end up with more and more miscellaneous….her voice trailed off miserably.

                    Leo swiveled round in the computer chair, took off her glasses and glared at Bea. Bea, you know you always find what you need by trusting that you’ll find what you need when you need to find it. You’ve told me that time and time again. You’ve droned on and on about that, how you love finding ‘just the thing’ and ‘by accident’ and now you’re sitting there moaning and groaning because for some inexplicable reason ~ Leonora rolled her eyes ~ you think that having things neatly ordered would be a better way.

                    Well, it would be nice to be able to find what I’m looking for, Leo, Bea retorted.

                    Well if you found what you were looking for right away, you silly cow, you wouldn’t find all those other magical bloody surprises by friggen accident, now would you?

                    There’s no need to be rude, Bea said sniffily.

                    Now it was Leo’s turn to sigh. Why don’t you bugger off outside and find something to appreciate, you grumpy old bat. “Oh! look at this, Bea!” Leo exclaimed, “Look what I just found by accident!”

                    Leo swiveled the computer screen round so that her friend could see.

                    Illi sat up and surveyed her surroundings. The sky was a deep azure blue, the sun was making twinkling stars on the waters of the lagoon, a warm gentle breeze rustled the coconut palm leaves, and birds sang and twittered in the foliage. It was indeed idyllic, and Illi decided to simply enjoy it, while her new ideas formed into a reality.

                    Illi was enjoying a new found freedom in her contentment, in not pushing her energy in frustration, and meandered happily around the island taking mental snapshots of a thousand delightful and marvelous wonders, appreciating even the smallest most insignificant things. Time lost all sense of meaning: there were deep velvet indigo skies full of sequins, and there were abstract multicoloured sunrises and sunsets; there were cottonwool clouds in cartoon shapes suspended on a canvas of blue. It mattered not the day or night; there was no longer a sense of time passing, just a glorious collage of appreciation and beauty.”

                    Bea read the excerpt reluctantly, and harumphed.

                    Oh for Gut’s sake, Bea! Leo was getting exasperated. Try appreciating miscellaneous floundering fog then.

                    #1004
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Becky was undecided. Add to the last entry? Or start another? Grinning wickedly, she started another.

                      Her second impulse selection was a slightly late coincidence, but a coincidence notwithstanding. It was about Sand Dragons . A Few days previously Becky had been to an auction. She bid for and won a first edition copy of Wisp magazine; it had cost her an arm and a leg, but she was delighted with her purchase. It would increase in value, and was a delight to read some of the first published articles of the many authors, poets, artists and photographers who would later become famous. The article about sand sculptures had reminded her of the T.R.A.P. day out.

                      Well, how about that! exclaimed Becky, reading the rest of the comment. Wish House is one of my most favourites, and I chose it by accident!

                      She read:

                      Illi used to play a game with Cranky (as she affectionately called nanny Chraddock) in the long months while her parents were away, called Wish House. Every room in the sprawling Elizabethan house was a different time and place, and the moment they entered the room they imagined themselves to be different people, in other times. Petunia Duster the maid loved to join in too; consequently not alot of housework got done, but with Gus and Flora always off travelling, nobody minded. Playing was, after all, so much more important than dust. In fact, a thick layer of dust made the rooms all the more mysterious and magical.”

                      Becky ran her finger along the dust on her desk and smiled.

                      OH! Becky jumped. I almost forgot to make a note of the number, now what was it? she mused, scratching her head. I think it was 171 :notepad:

                      Becky wondered whether or not to start another entry. Intuitively, she chose not to. Her third random choice was another synchronicity with the first edition of Wisp: it was about pyramids in Spain. The first edition of Wisp magazine was particularly valuable as it was the first mention in print of the discovery of the Iberian pyramid culture.

                      Number 835 she noted :notepad:

                      #988
                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        She stared at the blank screen and sighed. Her brain did not seem to be working.

                        She knew her dream of the photos of the children was somehow important because the cloud had confirmed it:

                        sync believe probability finally photos children meaning sat itself eye dream armelle sent images night

                        and if the Owl had sent them then ….

                        WHAT ????

                        #975

                        Well, now you mention it, sweetie, it’s quite funny because I was about to tell you the exact same comment… That may be a hint that at least our telempathic skills are slightly better when they are shifted, Leormn said with a draggle (that’s a dragon giggle)

                        Arona could feel a warm blanket of his energy trying to reach her between her toes, but she felt so very ticklish, that she resisted a bit.

                        Just keep it still, you snuggly dragon she managed to say between short laughs

                        You’ll find your friends back, you know; that’s just that you now need to beat your drums for a while,… just as Malvina needed to. I meant to tell you, she can get pretty hot-tempered, and usually it’s not a pretty sight, so she prefers to put everyone out of the way; and frankly, even for me it can be hard to reach her through all these dark clouds grumbling in her head.

                        I thought the others were in that darn cave too? said Arona in disbelief (for she knew dragon’s talks weren’t really to be trusted)

                        Well, can’t you tell for yourself? You’re more than capable to tune your vibration to your friends if you want to. You are as far from your friends physically as you are from them in your vibrational offering to the Universe

                        You look different dragon, looks like you’re not speaking like the Leormn I knew Arona shook her head to try to see between the mist of teal-smoke enveloping and twirling around her.

                        All things change Arona, and you know that better than anyone. Simply trust your feelings, and reach for the new version of those things you thought lost. They may appear different, but you’ll know without a doubt that you’re where you want to, when your anguish has left place to that warm feeling of being in the place you want that you long for.

                        #960

                        New Venice, July, 1 st 2035

                        The night was hot in New Venice at this time of the year. The weather patterns had been steadily shifting for many years, and the climate was now sub-tropical in the inundated Big Apple, as more and more people resented the usual coldness of winters, and had subjectively agreed upon a heightening of the temperatures of a few degrees.

                        Though accustomed to tell his body to relax, and vibrate at a lower frequency to counteract the sticky and displeasing effects of the heat, Al was finding sleep hard to find. Usually, he would attribute those moments of twitching slumberness to mass accessing of subjective information and bringing them to the objective. With the eclipse that would occur in the next weeks, those were still time of great cosmic synchronistic congruence.

                        Needless to say, he and Tina had been somewhat stirred by Becky’s sudden casualness, and relative abandon not only of the Reality Play but also of her three lovely first born to her friends.
                        People of that mysterious facility that Becky had briefly spoken so highly of had been doing a fantastic job, considering the very early birth, but still, Al had soon noticed the babies were displaying some kind of emotionless state which was eerie to observe in children that young. He had first thought of a remnant from the birth trauma, but it appeared that they were all perfectly aware, and even more than that, accutely aware of their environment to the point of displaying qualities of awareness akin to telepathy or pre-sentience.

                        Sam’s innate talent with the young ones had been very beneficial to them, and Al was hoping, would help them access their emotional communications as a guidance system to navigate within the immense and potentially overwhelming quantity of subjective information they were given such an easy access to.

                        Finally after having spent so much time before the cyputer, Al was collapsing from tiredness. He threw himself on the tatami for a healthy dose of rejuvenating sleep. Or so he thought…

                        :fleuron:

                        Al woke up with a chill, sweat beading over his eyebrow.
                        He remembered.
                        They would come… Hybrids from their future… He remembered having met one a few years ago.
                        A strange bald guy with piercing eyes and strange snorting twitches on his face. One moment he was talking to him in the middle of the ramp waiting for a condocab, and the moment after, he had forgotten all of this encounter.
                        The guy had said intently to wait for the time when the Dream would remind them it was the Time of the Reunion.
                        So what was next? Aliens coming in their aluminum flying saucepans making mosquito sounds?
                        That sounded awfully like the outrageous rants that old Russian guy named Pasha was making years ago in the archives of Dory —which they had taken as a basis for their Reality Play…

                        Gosh, that dream was so vivid, it couldn’t be a coincidence… Especially since the first Hybrids to make contact all looked like they were clones of Becky!

                        #959
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          “Let me tie up your hair with a ribbon”,
                          To India, said Nanny Gibbon.
                          “In a Glamour Bomb knot
                          Today, as it’s hot,
                          You cute little Wrick with a ribbon.”

                          #945
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Becky visited the nursery at The Facility every day, and smiled vaguely at the triplets, relieved that they were thriving and being well cared for. She had spent several happy hours ordering a new wardrobe online, charging it all to The Facility, whose staff were being wonderfully kind and accomodating. She spent the days reading historical novels, lounging on the recliners on the numerous patios and balconies, or strolling through the colourful leafy gardens, or floating in the cool lotus filled pools, without a care in the world.

                            The past few months had been draining, exhausting. The unexpected break from everything that was familiar was doing her a power of good.

                            One hot still afternoon, Gayesh, the director of the facility, called her into his large airy office. The antique ceiling fan ruffled the papers on his desk. The papers were part of the antique decor, giving the room a nostalgic 20th century air.

                            Becky, we have been observing you while you’ve been staying with us, Gayesh said kindly. And we would like to make you an offer.

                            Observing me? asked Becky, feeling a trifle violated.

                            Oh, you know, at the essence level, dear, replied Gayesh, with a gentle smile. Your essence did agree, we couldn’t be intrusive, of course, as you know.

                            Oh well, if my essence agreed that’s ok I guess, answered Becky, mollified. What’s your offer?

                            Gayesh explained at length the purpose of the Facility, while Becky yawned and studied her new shoes, her mind wandering…

                            …….and so, in a nutshell, Gayesh was saying, If you give us permission, we can send a cloned Becky back to Galle, and the husband Sean, while you, my dear, do whatever you desire. You can be mother to the essences already lined up to manifest via your, er, the clones, body (and may I point out that none of our undercover clones so far have been uncovered, shall we say), which will facilitate….Gayesh chuckled….your new found freedom! You will be a free Becky that nobody knows exists! Free to wander hither and yon, without any responsibilities…..what do you say?

                            I accept your offer, sir! Becky said, jumping up to shake Gayesh’s hand.

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