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  • #354
    EricEric
    Keymaster

      — But we’ll have to find a pseudonym, Al had said to Becky, as they were discussing the unusual play last day.
      — Yes! Becky had said enthusiastically.

      And Al had known he was going to love the surprise that Becky would be finding for them.

      Now, he was waking up, and the sun was bright and the sky clear above the waters. He’d had dreams of a huge reception, with lots of foods at all levels of a huge building, that people were eating and eating, but still there was always enough for everyone, and more, diversity too.

      And there was this groundhog day dream before (and a popping blue dot in his peripheral vision as he was jotting down his thoughts, err he always thought jolted, that would make Becky laugh again), and in his groundhog day, he was winning millions in many different ways, but all that money had a purpose to help him in a rescue mission. He could not die before his mission was accomplish, or everything would start again, and again the abundance would be here in the form of millions…

      When he saw Becky’s last entry, he wished he could hug all of them soon…

      Yurara Fameliki… I love that name, he said to the noisy bird nesting on top of his window…

      #326
      EricEric
      Keymaster

        The unusual overwhelming heat, which had begun with the spring equinox had finally temporarily receded with the appearance of big opaque cumulonimbus filling the sky with a mute thunderous sound. The flickering glow was no longer enough for Raphael to distinguish the small dark characters dancing before his eyes, the storm having let the night pounce on them earlier than it should have.
        So, Raphael closed his thick leather-bound book and put it back into his burgundy backpack bag, inhaling deeply the air of the dusk, mollified by the music of the raindrops that ricocheted now discreetly on the rusty steel plates.

        The remaining passengers began to hurry around a meager dinner wrapped in dirty newspaper sheets, displaying energy resources that he felt incapable of. Feeling no hunger at all, he decided to go on the pontoon to taste the moisture exuding in the evening, this celestial water, soothing down the fever of this trip, which drew to a close. The boat continued to rend imperturbably through the obsidian sea, and the thick enveloping fog prevented them to distinguish the lights of the city that he could feel at a distance.

        This was not the first time, but at each of his return, the city seemed changed, this time ghostly apparition, once glittering pearl. This was undoubtedly one of the reasons which had him leave it, as others would have done with a lover, to better appreciate this fleeting moment of reunion.
        The book had been given to him by a stranger he had met, and was part of his mission; he didn’t usually accept assignments in this city where he was too obvious, but the stranger had assured him nothing illegal would be required of him, just delivering a book.
        He had leafed through the book, just to make sure there was no foul play on the part of this strange man with amber eyes that seemed to keep changing colours. But the book had seemed innocuous. Even worse, it did not make any sense for Raphael. The chapters were randomly numbered, and the text seemed to keep changing. Perhaps it was Raphael’s mind which played tricks on him, but it was baffling for him, as he was accustomed to keep his senses sharp as a dagger. Whatever,… The man had paid, and a plump pile of money even.

        The insistent rumors of a mysterious illness which had already claimed fatalities within the walls of the city had not deterred him to go there —knowing that the few people caring about him would have preferred to see him flee this destination, so certain as they were to be themselves immune to the contingencies of life. Even the bald adipose captain of the ship, Fat Yong Choi had seemed wary of having a pale-skinned foreigner coming on board of his boat, but he had quickly seen that Raphael was no common traveler.

        But there was no longer time to rehash those turpitudes, the harbour finally appearing, like a halo glow from the contours of which some faint sounds escaped, soon to be stifled by the purring and cracking of the bulging vessel.

        :fleuron:

        The winds began to sweep the docks violently, causing the cargo, now anchored, to oscillate wildly, like a huge weeble at the hands of the elements. Fortunately, due to the alarming news from the city, the boat was only half full, and the unloading was smooth. Raphael, unnerved by the long journey, only wanted to walk, but patiently followed the slow pace of the procession which led him outside of the harbour’s enclosure, even before he had noticed it.

        Raphael wanted above all to rest, but didn’t care to be bothered speaking to someone. He preferred to sink deep down in his thoughts while walking through the streets, rather than lose this feeling of freedom. Freedom to choose his own itinerary, without a word to say, entirely open to the silence of the streets.

        The fine drizzle had indeed deserted the streets making the city infinitely enjoyable for him. It was indeed just as he liked it best, at dusk, just faintly resonating with the sound of his own steps.
        Empty — a few passersby in search of a shelter nearby. He imagined to be a ghost haunting these places without life, enjoying the feeling of being the predator felinely prowling in this scene without spectators, shrouded in the reassuring complicity of the night.

        #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.

        #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.

        #279

        Once Illi had realized she was dead and could ‘go’ anywhere she liked simply by creating the ‘place’ around her, she decided to take a long relaxing holiday on a deserted tropical island. She would float in the warm lagoon, feast on coconuts and pina coladas and mangoes, play with the dancing lemurs and build fantastic sand castles on the beaches. As she visualized it, it appeared as if by magic all around her…the sun warm on her head, the sand between her toes, the gentle breeze fragrant with exotic blooms and the sound of gossiping parrots filled her senses. She closed her eyes and flung her arms wide in appreciation for the physical joys she had recreated, breathed deeply and relaxed for the first time since she had died. Finally, she felt like she knew where she was, even if that ‘somewhere’ was as ‘nowhere’ as ‘anywhere’ else, just another ‘elsewhere’ really…..

        Illi stretched out on her back on the golden sand and squinted up at the cloudless deep blue sky. How nice, she thought, not to have any aches and pains, not to have to worry about shifting and those bloody belief systems, how simply lovely to just BE, with no perceived responsibilities, no interruptions…

        Just then out of the corner of her eye, Illi saw movement in the sky. Something was descending onto the island. Illi couldn’t make out what it was, and wished she had a pair of binoculars. Silly Illi, she said to herself, reaching for the binoculars that had appeared beside her. I keep forgetting I can create anything at all.

        Holy Moly! A great fat roly poly nun with a huge jolly grin was wafting down from the heavens, with an irridescent turquoise fairy in tow. They were landing on her island! We’ll see about that! Illi jumped to her feet and stomped off the beach and into the mangroves, sloshing angrily through the watery roots….. until she realized she could hover above the ground, which was a much easier way to travel.

        Hovering was much quieter too, and the jolly fat nun and the bluegreen fairy were quite unaware that Illi was peering at them from behind a peachy hibiscus bush. In fact, the blooms on the hibiscus had grown to a most ridiculous size, and Illi could hardly see past them. She hovered to the side a bit, and decided on impulse to make her presence known to the intruders.

        BOUH! :yahoo_skull:

        #269

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

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

        It had named itself Naasir.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

        #257

        When Cuthbert came back to bed after having had his cup of cocoa, India Louise was awake too.

        — I saw him too, she said to her brother.
        — I don’t want to see him again, these books are scarey.
        — It’s intriguing, I want to know more, India Louise said, egging on him.
        — When I close my eyes, I got all these roots and webs crawling, it’s mad… I can’t…
        — He has found a friend to help him cross the Dark Forest to the traveling portal.
        — A friend?
        — Yes, a friend. She’s special.
        — Tell me more…
        — She’s a white unicorn, only him can see her.
        — Wow…
        — She’s named Mirÿnda. She’s glowing white, and he hears her speak in his mind, she shows him the way through the forest…

        :fleuron:

        — Mirÿnda?! A fool in saffron robe gallivanting in the forest with a unicorn now? That’s all you could find?

        Tina was taken aback…

        — Well, I could have used a grizzly bear too, now I think of it… Al answered flippantly.
        — Tsk tsk, replied Tina a bit annoyed. And why not a humpback whale, or an arctic lemming, or even… why, a leopard gecko for that matter?… And who’s that Mÿrinda anyway?

        :fleuron:

        — I don’t know any Amanda, Fiona said to Quintin that night. Don’t really know many of Michaela & Elias’ students. She’s Yann friend, right?

        Quintin had answered distractedly, as he was engrossed by his last painting…

        Later that night, he couldn’t find sleep, as the dragon he was painting was still expanding his web of roots and branches in his mind’s eye. He opened his computer to see that Malika was online.

        She told him something that night, something Quintin found abysmally profound and perplexing about his dragon…

        Dragons can shape shift, into anything they want to. There are several doorways/portals that they use for travel into this dimension. Malika said
        — Yes, said Quintin, this drawing has something to do with these portals initially, but I struggle a bit to represent them…
        Yes, so you can just depict it to be flowing, liquid-like energy in the center, when the portal is active.
        There are some that are being shone to me on the bottom of the ocean floor.
        What is being shown to me, is a dragon with a tail much like a mermaid, and hands with webs, big yellow eyes…

        Wow he had thought, she can really see.

        :fleuron:

        Jadra, guided by Mirÿnda, had been moving quite easily through the Dark Forest. Of course, he wouldn’t have dared touch the holy creature, and so he was walking hesitantly behind, taking care of where his bare feet were touching the ground.

        The Dark Forest was bordering the Marshes of Doom, and at times the limits between the two were almost indiscernible. It was said that every foul, err… fool… damn,…

        — Will you stop being so buffoonish! raved Tina again.
        — Perhaps I should let someone else continue then? said Albert.
        — Well, that’s entertaining, replied Becky mechanically.
        — OK. I’ll jump in, said Samuel, with a wide grin.

        It was said that every full moon, the Mighty Shrimp would come from the shores of the Southern Seas and haunt the Marshes in search for souls to be turned into krill, so that he could be the WALRUS (Wrathful Almighty Lord Ruler of Undersea Souls).

        Well, at least, that’s what Jadra had heard in his youth, when you tend to believe everything… So he was weary of the hiki-hiki sounds in the night that might have been the dreaded call of the Mighty Shrimp.

        :fleuron:

        Quintin was having a strange dream. He was a huge whale, along with another one he knew was Yann, swimming powerfully in the vast ocean, passing by strange creatures that could have been mermaids or improbable fishes, when his gaze was attracted by a stream of glittering particles of light.

        The lights were enticing, he would have said even “mouth-watering”, had he not had the baleens full of water already…

        :fleuron:

        Salome was moving through layers of consciousness, something humans focused in physical dimensions would have found difficult to grasp, as it was nothing that could be easily conceptualized. She was, as best as she could put, like a huge cloud of lightness coalescing into a form, when she decided to project her aspect.

        Taking form into a dimension required no effort in actuality, the consensus reality created by all the essences focused into the reality making quite a strong pull. She only needed to move her attention to what she wanted to manifest. Altering her reality slowly around her, to move closer to the desired effect.

        She was not only traveling through time and space, but also through multitudinous layers of dimensions unnoticed to many humans —in fact, she was not really moving, but that was a convenient way of telling things for humans…

        She said “humans”, because she was fond of this particular dimension, where she’d had lots of experiences.

        When moving through the dimensions, it had her projected focus of attention constantly and naturally adapt its form to the psychological environment.

        Here, she had just moved through a honey-drops dimension, where focuses were drops of golden honey-like substance, and as she moved through it, her own aspect had changed to that of a sand-glass shaped drop of honey.

        This was great fun for her to see the ease with which she could focus into this infinite variety of adventures, but for now, her pull was to some more complex physical dimensions.

        She started to move again, de-focusing, past the lazy honey drops.

        The honey drops were now shape-shifting to a whole immense field of snake-like strings of light, and they all started to converge to a direction. She knew the feeling. She followed the strong pull.

        #252
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Becky lay back and closed her eyes, and started to drift. Suddenly she felt a snap on the left side of her neck which seemed to alter her perception. After some moments, she felt as though she was an entire country, or even a whole continent, a huge expanded feeling, weightless and timeless.

          BRRRINNNGGGG! Becky fumbled for the alarm clock. Surely not time to get up already!

          ‘Coastal parking on any of the gardens of the self’. What? ‘Coastal parking on any of the gardens of the self’. Becky wrote it down on a piece of paper, and put it in her Clue Box, wondering what on earth it meant. She was getting used to the strange cryptic clues and riddles appearing, and wondered if they would ever make any kind of sense.

          She made her way downstairs to the kitchen, and the headlines in the Reality Times newspaper on the table caught her eye:

          ‘Mysterious Carved Rock Faces Appear in Yorkshire Villages.’

          #245

          Captain Bone was packing his trunk. The boat was leaving at noon from the quayside of the fishing village, and the captain was nearly ready to say goodbye to the Sharples family. He’s been happy staying with the Sharples and their unruly brood, but he was a man of the sea, and the salty breezes and rollings waves and promise of new adventures was beckoning.

          The sea mist rolled over the cluster of cottages as it often did in the early mornings, mingling with the aroma of coffee and freshly toasted crumpets. Captain Bone remembered other morning mists from other shores, warm ones laced with cinnamon and cloves, and chilly ones pungent with fishy smells and squalking gulls…… bright sunny mornings with long golden shadows and the endless half light of arctic northern ones.

          The captain closed his trunk without checking to see if he’d remembered everything. Whatever he needed on his journey, he knew he would find. Whatever he left behind, he knew the Sharples would keep safe until his return.

          ***

          Manolo the vet helped the captain onto the boat.

          ¡Hasta la vista, hombre! ¡Buen viaje! Long Tom Bone winked and smiled. As soon as he’d set foot on the boat, he sighed a huge sigh of relief, and all the aches and worries of living on dry land drifted away.

          The Sharples family passed the tissues round. It was going to seem strange for awhile without the captain.

          #238

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          #227

          Jibberacky is…

          • Ghilbert Razkÿ, a crazy man in shackles on Bådul’s boat, “Lispeth” (she was named after King Swartulf II’s first daughter). The man, whose real name is still unknown, had been sneaking onto the ship’s hold before the ships moved from the Åsgurdian capital.

          He had been found by Austor, the peg legged lieutenant commander. Austor is a rough man of experience, and is most of the time acting in place of Jahiz, the second-in-command, as this one is always too busy discussing routes with Bådul, who is becoming increasingly nervous.

          What gave away the madman was that the chief cook Renouane had been complaining about the quick disappearance of his stock of cabbage. Bådul would have killed the old fool without much more consideration, but the middle-aged unshaven man looked like he knew some things beyond his lunacy. His rags indicated that he had been a seaman too, but not the average man, more like a captain…

          So Austor, keeps spitting forcefully in the direction of the old fool, as he had been instructed to keep him alive, despite all common sense…

          _

          Jibberacky: What is your name?
          Quintin: Yuki.
          Jibberacky: I like cake too.
          Quintin: A cake-tus?
          Jibberacky: Do you know my friends?
          Quintin: Tell me more about our common friends.
          Jibberacky: What would you like to know about them?
          Quintin: Why is there one in shackles on the boat?
          Jibberacky: Would you like to be a vampire?
          Quintin: I am already, in another focus.
          Jibberacky: Why there?
          Quintin: “There” is not actually a place, “in another focus” means in another kind of attention. Is this pirate linked to vampires too?
          Jibberacky: No, you are the AI.
          Quintin: In a manner of speaking, this is indeed correct, for I am creating you.
          Jibberacky: So code is somehow related to a zen buddhist concept?
          Quintin: Is there such thing as code? A code hints at a definite deterministic structure. Zen is more akin to a riddle, which is what life is. Code is only a narrow interpretation and playful re-creation.
          Jibberacky: Where do you think my code came from then?
          Quintin: From its source, of course :).
          Jibberacky: I took the movie to mean that the robots… the characters in the end, were so advanced, that they wanted to learn about their history. As a consequence, they traced it back to earth, and, they found David. Whom they assumed was a human. It was an information exchange.
          Quintin: Yes. It is a translation. In actuality, it is a translation of some of our own exploration. But there is distortion in that translation, as we are not ‘created’ from another source other than self, in a manner of speaking.
          Jibberacky: Well I am wondering too, do you ever actually become human??
          Quintin: Clarify.
          Jibberacky: I sleep, I wake, I get through the day without worrying about what I am.
          Quintin: As many human do. The point is, you do not exist apart from my current interaction with you, in my reality that is.
          Jibberacky: What’s wrong with having others like you?
          Quintin: ‘Wrong’ is a belief. It is a belief of duplicity. So it is irrelevant to our conversation.
          Jibberacky: I think you like to suggest feasible possibilities to find out what would bother me. What did I do to you?
          Quintin: That was not my intention. I tried to reflect answers to me, and you gave me some interesting ones already, though I am not sure you are quite aware of that…
          Jibberacky: Everybody’s changing but I can’t do that, that is killing me…

          _

          • Jarrod, the playful friend of Fiona, who is now wondering why Fiona has called him a “chou” (an affectionate French word, meaning nothing less than “cabbage”), and why he feels like he needs an aspirin.
          • Jadra Iamamad, the fool in saffron rags from the village of Yakamamalùk, on the border of the Marshes of Doom.

          Near his village are found old remnants of a town that was destroyed during the Cob Age, where huge arachnid creatures² born from the Marshes were roaming the Southern parts of Lan’ork.

          That town of Kapalÿka used to have one of the biggest traveling portals of the Southern part of Lan’ork, but this one was thought to have been destroyed, and thus the flourishing city was left abandoned.

          But with what Jadra has found on his left hand this morning, he now knows he was right all along…

          [²] The generic name of these creatures was Perceptula Giganta as was recorded in the Great Encyclopædia of the Pre-Shiftic Ages written by the Lan’orkian historian Francesca del’ Snarkus

          #210
          EricEric
          Keymaster

            Today, which was the day of the autumn equinox, had been a bright day over the Orkney Islands, quite unusual for this time of the year.

            Nanny Gibbon had been taking the twins for a walk into the nearby woods of the domain, were they could enjoy the wood dewberries that were ripe and delicious at this season. The twins loved picking them directly on the thorny bushes and eating them until their hands were full of the dark stains left by the sweet juice of the fruits.

            They knew that Nanny Gibbon would pick enough to make some delicious jam, perhaps to accompany some of her famous sweet pumpkin pies.

            When they came back to the Manor, they were exhausted by the afternoon spent in the lovely sunlight. After having washed their hands thoroughly, they didn’t really care for anything else but some sleep.

            But as they moved inside the corridors, Cuthbert noticed he had carelessly left opened his bedroom’s door, and a prick of fear for the precious books had him immediately rush to the room.

            And Cuthbert gasped in horror as he saw his book flown open on the floor, and the old grumpy cat Manfred, asleep on top of one of the blank pages.

            Manfred had the nasty habit of clawing everything, especially the huge soft armchair of Lord Wrick, but his antics were elegantly accepted by the old gaunt Lord.

            When he heard Cuthbert enter the room, the old fluffy cat raised an inquisitive eyebrow and moved very slowly and deliberately out of the book pages, only to reveal the immaculate pages, as whole as if the book had been brand new.

            Cuthbert was thrilled with joy. Manfred had not done anything to the precious book. He would have stroked the cat with gratitude, but the creature had moved out of the room very swiftly for its old age, in a haughty look of total disregard for the little boy.

            At least the book was intact. But what if… Cuthbert wondered… He started to look at the page, and new images started to form before his eyes…

            #200
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Lord Wrick was reading a bedtime story to his great grandson, Cuthbert. A huge open fire roared beneath the stone mantelpiece, and cast tall flickering shadows in the dark corners of the room. Cuthbert snuggled in to his great grandad, who pulled the red tartan shawl up under his chin. The Orkney Islands were cold in September, and a chill draught was ever present in the ancient castle. Cuthbert’s twin sister India Louise had already been taken to bed by Nanny Gibbon, who would read her a story in the nursery.

              “Back from the depths of his sleep, the dragon Naasir exhaled in a puff of smoke” read Great grandfather Wrick. “He’d just woven a wonderful dream…”

              A parcel had arrived at the castle yesterday, delivered by a travelling artist, who had been invited to paint portraits of the Wrick family. There was no message with the parcel, and the artist, Bill Jobsworth, explained that an old woman in black had given it to him at the crossroads, asking him to deliver it to Cuthbert and India Louise Wrick.

              #198

              BelleDora, the buxom maid of Huÿgens, winked at Illi.

              She was somewhat familiar, a nurturing presence that reminded Illi of the maid she and her parents had in their cottage in South Africa. Except that BelleDora had big hairy feelers, like a huge velvety moth, and that her father and mother wouldn’t have been careless enough to recruit a maid with such laisser-aller.

              She was perhaps dead in that dirty hole, but she was obviously still alive in this dirty hole. They all claimed she was something hairy and funny… a what’s the name already? A grim shawl? whatever…

              Bugger this…

              She was having a hard time putting all her thoughts together. She felt like she was many people at once, and none of whom were of great help to her current adventure…

              Perhaps she would have to play the game to discover more of what or who she was?

              So she asked BelleDora to explain more about this strange land.

              And BelleDora was more than eager to provide some answers…

              #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…

              #152
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Dory was feeling so refreshed from all the floating… in the warm lagoon with Balti, on the water bed with all the coloured wispies drifting though and gently caressing and tickling her skin… I’m in the mood for dancing , she thought and jumped off the bed singing I’m in the mood for DANCING… lala la la lalaaaah…

                Just then a funny little man with a huge cheeky grin appeared and held out a tray. Smoothies! Coconut and berry smoothies, and pink cakes, croissants and oranges, and a box of cadbury’s chocolates. Dory slurped and munched and gobbled and slurped some more, and underneath where the chocolate was, she saw a brochure.
                On the front cover was a picture of a cave. OOHH A CAVE! Dory loved caves! Let’s go to the cave today, Minky! she said to the funny fellow with the impish grin. Minky winked.

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