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  • #928

    Passing through the security cordon of the giant spiders had been relatively easy, thanks to the indications telepathically passed down to them by the Snoot .
    With Anita on her back, Yurmaela the gruffoon had come back to the borgulm tree where Claude had been left to watch. After a moment of surprise at the unexpected apparition, he didn’t take long to decide whether he wanted to stay or not and had jumped on the broad back with the little smiling girl who was grabbing on the coarse hair of the beast.

    Keep you energies and your attention close to us, said Yurmaela Just like Akayli is doing with your parents, Anu. Though they have plenty of eyes, the giant spiders mostly rely on their energy perception, and they won’t see you if you stay within our energy field.

    A few minutes later, they were all standing in front of the growirling wortex, partially masked by the bark of the huge babul tree, which was standing out with its massive appearance. Flames of what seemed to be dark floating matter were pulsating very slowly, enhancing the thumping sound of their hearts.

    Ready to come back home sweet Anu? Akayli said fondly to the little girl?
    Yes, it was so much fun you all came to play with me… I’d want you to stay with me.
    What do you say? asked Claude They ain’t coming?
    This reality had a special design which allowed us to project very easily here said Yurmaela very softly in that reality of you, and Anita and Akita; as for now, the barrier in that reality is thicker than it is here.
    But we are always present around Anu, you know that said Akayli kneeling down to wrap his spotted furry arms around the little girl
    Yes I know she was smiling And I miss my parents too
    So let’s go, the wortex will close any moment now

    #904

    The portal has opened, we must hurry said Araili

    Araili had felt something more, that he didn’t want to share yet with Akita and his spirit dog Kay. He had felt that something, or someone was trying to make its way from the wortex. However, the whole area was tightly held in a sort of quarantine by the giant spiders. Their genetic ancestral memory was aware of previous huge bleedthroughs like this one, and they had what humans would call “prophecies” amongst their kin, of such occurrences being heralds of tremendous upheavals.
    Araili, who was extending far beyond this guise of a lynx that he had taken now, smiled when he thought of how some of his earthly medieval focuses would have been similarly frightened by natural events like eclipses.

    It did not take long to them to find Anita’s parents. They were right at the spot that the big arachnid had just left, wrapped in silky spider bandages with little skin left to breathe.

    They seem alive. checked Akita. Heavily sedated, but alive… Now, we’ll have to get them out of here quick.
    I think I have an idea smiled Araili.

    :fleuron:

    Claude had finally came out of what he thought was just a strange tree, but then, his preternatural senses where telling him something was wrong. This place looked different. No, this place felt different.
    And smelt different too.

    There were soft sounds, crawlings he could hear, very near his place. They were coming from him, but he would fight.
    He jumped on a tree, and in a few vigorous movements, was perched on top of it.
    He almost gapped when he saw the black circle of huge spiderly creatures around his tree.

    They were staying at a distance from the wortex. But for how long… He couldn’t wait for his death.

    From the top of the tree, Claude jumped unscathed. Taking a look around, he found exactly what he needed.
    Breaking a few sharp bamboos poles, he started his move to the black circle in a prodigious and accelerated run.

    :fleuron:

    From atop a nearby tree, Armelle was considering the whole scene. The wortex would probably last a few hours, perhaps a bit more. Anita, Rafaela and Yuki were about to be here soon, she had warned them of the spider circle, so that they would hide until she has found them a way to get through.

    She had not expected someone to come out of it. That may be her way…

    :fleuron:

    Phurt was coming closer and closer now. She could feel the surge of power, and the trepidation raising all the hair on her legs. She couldn’t possibly confront all of the sisters. Not yet.
    She had to find a way to get past.

    As if Arachneiax, Goddess of her kind had heard and answered her plea, a dying cry, confusion, and call for help came to her senses from a border of their circle. A perfect diversion…

    #898

    She was feeling blank. It was as if she had no memories of what had happened before. At least she had still the notion that she was a she… wasn’t she? It wasn’t really clear, as she had mixed up feelings. There weren’t any physical sensation in the place she was. Indeed, she was having difficulties finding herself. She began to wonder what was this feeling of her she was aware of. To what was it connected? And thus, she realized she was too focused on the question itself to get any answer.
    The letting go released a dam of sensations and informations. She was overwhelmed by all that she was and all that seemed to be thrust upon her senses. But the resistance was what could create pain, she knew that from another time where she was living the same thing. Resisting the communication was like wanting to resist a herd of fleeing raghlors.
    She was feeling a presence in all this mess, something familiar :-?
    Was that herself looking at herself looking at herself looking at herself looking…
    Her memory of what she was trying to do came as lightning. The sudden realization of her numerous tentatives at this exercise made her cry… would she fail again?
    She had to find these other aspects of her, put them into a common direction… but there were so many of hers! which ones should she call to follow her? Which ones would follow her, if any? She felt sudden despair coming from everywhen. Despairs that she was aware did not belong to her, but they were powerful, almost annihilating her will. Images of massacres of people she knew, of people that her other selves knew, massacre that she had perpetrated herself or that she was perpetrating… any sensation of time could fit.

    :yahoo_at_wits_end: :yahoo_doh: :yahoo_crying: :yahoo_cow: :yahoo_whew: :yahoo_skull:

    Despair was imprisoning her and she knew she already had failed because of that. It was shadowing her motivation, giving her that hollow sense of herself, shielding her from…

    :creating_magic:

    Asiir, is that you? The energy was familiar and the name was a translation in her mind. It was an anchor point in all these mess of hers.
    Asiir, help me!

    The feeling was faint, so far away. But as she was focusing more on it, she noticed her different selves were intrigued and gathering around it. And there they were together. A feeling of ecstasy filled her up… and out of her body herself was huge. The presence was gaining in intensity and it was as if it was her who was allowing Asiir’s energy to be expressed toward herself.

    HAHAHAHAHA a thunderous laugh.
    Startled for a moment she almost lost contact with Asiir. But their bond was stronger this time. She was filled with joy and self-assurance.

    At last, you are beginning to understand, Lola. We can go on and take the next step now.

    She was truly riding her dragon, :face-grin: , it was wondrous.

    Well, technically you are lying on the floor of the marshes of doooom, but…

    All of a sudden, everything was gone, she was back to her body, Asiir looking at her and nudging her left arm with her snout.
    WOW, what a crippled body! How many times did she tried? Would he kill her with that, bloody bastard… a feeling of anger was infuriating her, and filling her body up, heating it up. How could he possibly be so inhuman?

    May I recall you I’m a dead guy? and furthermore, my focus wasn’t human… I just appear human to your eyes because you want me to appear like that. You have no representation of how my species could look like, but I may show you…
    … soon.

    #895

    The woman’s voice raised softly in the dark, like a velvet caress, or the sound of a purring cat.

    Life was long before I met Georges. Not unbearable, but so long and lifeless. Days would pass, and nothing new would happen but the same matter the previous days were made of.
    Though I no longer align to these limitations, I was once human, born to Earth, as Georges was, in a not so distant past. Like most of my people, I was not feeling special. But my will was strong and my desire to survive too. I survived poverty, lust and violence. In the crucible of these emotions I’ve melted my fears, and it was there I found Georges too.

    A curtain raises in the dark. A palace in an exotic tropical place. Brunei? Al doesn’t know this place…
    A young dark haired woman in a small room, around sixteen, perhaps a bit less, disheveled. She looks wildly around her, her rags stained with dust and dirt.

    Enters a tall woman. She doesn’t seem local. British perhaps. She’s elegantly dressed, thin mouth, high cheekbones, apparently in charge. A maid follows her. She can speak the girl’s language.

    Where is my mother? Let me out of here! she starts to cry
    I’m afraid this is not possible, Salome. For your safety,…
    What do you care about my safety!
    For your safety, Salome, hear me, try to behave. The Sultan is not a man without a heart. He loves beautiful women, and that is what probably saved your neck, considering what all what your mother did wrong to him refusing to pay taxes and her obstinate and bare-faced smuggling. Listen Salome, this might save you, and might save your mother as well.

    The curtain falls on the scene, where Salome hopes to have found a friend of captivity with this woman.

    A few years later, still in the golden cage of the harem, occasionally asked to service the lustful and violent Sultan, I start to go explore the depths of my misery. My inner world was a safe sanctuary, a haven from the pit of hell where I was now living, after my childhood years of hard work in the forest. There, where no one was given the key to enter, I became aware of him. I first thought he was an imaginary friend, a messenger from the other world, greeting me to a sure death. But he was real. He started to talk to me. About what I could do, like him, be a Traveler, if I wanted to.

    The curtain raises again. Young Salome is lying on her straw mat, in a seeming delirium. She moans, whispers, weeps, laughs. No one in the harem seem to care any longer. She is probably possessed, but the Sultan still find her suitable, she can’t be touched.

    A roar can be heard in the palace. The big black-bearded Sultan Ojylam the Second, ogre look on his face, summons his guard.

    — Don’t worry Salome, the voice of Georges whispers in the dark. The Sultan is mad at Madame Chesterhope. She has just fled with his precious crystal skull, but he won’t find her. She’s a skilled Traveler too, as soon you will be dear Salome, once you have learnt my last tricks, and we soon will be united.
    — Why that stupid crystal skull?
    — Don’t worry about it… This one is the Birds Skull. It carries lots of information and magic in relation to the Birds Realm, but it should be the least of your concerns. We’ll find Madame Chesterhope even if she’s clever at hiding between dimensions. Only concern for you must be to get out of here.
    — The Sultan will know I told her about it… I should have known, he was so proud of this object, and so protective too… And she was so curious…
    — That’s why we must hurry now.

    And so we were united for the first time. Lots of other lives have occurred afterwards, different paths at times, but always we have found each other again. Eternally bound, in a most sacred bound…

    #891
    Jib
    Participant

      His teeth had been nudging him for a few days, or maybe a few weeks actually. Last Wednesday, Yurick and him had a chat with their friends Michaela and Elias, and Yann told them about his questioning.
      Now, he was wondering about what was the meaning of all that in his new understanding of his reality. He was having the impression that he was in a complex video game and that at the beginning he hadn’t been told about all the fun stuffs he could do in it. Many aspects of this video game were unraveling and still he was feeling cold feet about jumping ahead.
      Yann was noticing that his teeth were nudging himself mainly when he was doing certain things, like judging himself, finding himself unworthy, trying to force himself in certain directions, or to force his body. It was like his body was an amazing communication device from him to himself. It was continuously giving him information, not only about his environment like temperature, smells, lights and images, but also about what would have been hidden like weather patterns, mass excitement or balance, mass tension or release…
      Elias had told him and Yurick that their energy was constantly open to each other, in a continuous merging and exchanging process. They were quite aware of that now, and at the beginning of their relation it would have been overwhelming, but now it was really fulfilling in many ways. Even when they were not in physical proximity, they would be together and feel each other. But they were also more centered upon themselves and they were not as influenced by the mood of the other as they had been ;)) they had reached a more balanced relationship and were beginning to intensify the movement.
      Yann had also begun to be aware of a humming tone, inaudible, but very present. It was humming under the veil of this reality and he had been told it was one of his language of communication. This was very intriguing and it was overlapping his interest in his body and his teeth, he was wondering about the effects of this humming tone on them.

      #1798

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Some interesting syncs:

        Discussing the comment on Franiel and Vincentius with Francie, some things of interest:

        F: hahaha i laughed at the egg bit :egg_wink:
        E: bit silly I reckon :)) but somehow it synch’ed with two movies we’ve been watching yesterday
        F: yes, good to have a bit of silly in our otherwise serious story :|
        E: In one, there is that :ghost: ghost girl who stalks her husband new love affair, and ends up speaking through a parrot
        And the other, there is this shaman old woman who remote-views her people went on a quest, and ends up dying in stead of a girl, so that the young one lives…

        F: oh that is like your plants in the courtyard dream too —just had a recollection of you saying one gave up its pot for the other one
        E: Oh yes, true… Perhaps it’s just like a layering, like you do for strawberries, you use parts of the roots to do new plants…
        “Layering is more complicated than taking cuttings, but has the advantage that the propagated portion can continue to receive water and nutrients from the parent plant while it is forming roots.”

        E: “In air layering (or marcotting), the target region is wounded and then surrounded in a moisture-retaining wrapper such as sphagnum moss ;))

        Peat moss is also a critical element for growing mushrooms” that’ll make Tracy happy :))
        In New Zealand, care is taken during the harvesting of sphagnum moss=))

        F: “it can also be used as a substrate for tarantulas as it is easy to burrow into:spider:

        E: “Such Sphagnum bogs can also preserve human hair and clothing, one of the most noteworthy examples being Egtved Girl , Denmark”. Egg and B.C. sync :))

        F: cool name, Egtved. Oh thats interesting about the Egtved girl: due to be public this month
        E: oh, well spotted!
        F: shall we all pop over and check it out
        E: Ahahaha sure :world:

        #849

        Al had just inadvertently telepathically overheard Becky’s long monologue, and was rather amused at the situation that he decided to stay quiet and refrain from intervening.
        It was a sort of interesting experience, to see how it would develop…

        A voice was starting to make itself heard through Becky’s neuronal pathways though… A feminine voice first… Then a male…
        He could even sense a third presence too…

        Al was surprised, as he apparently didn’t really care about what kind of probability would express itself. It seemed it was all valid, and yet, there was something that wanted to make itself heard.

        Becky was quiet now. She seemed to have finally seen that nothing would happen as intensely and quickly as in her swift imagination.

        But Al was intrigued… Who were those presence, they felt lively, very humorous too. But they were concerned about Becky’s changes of mood. They were considering probabilities too, as though Becky’s choices were important to them.

        We are the first-borns of Becky answered the feminine voice who had keep still.
        Potential first sniggered the male voice.
        Oh, shut up, Oliver the third one said you know well enough we are creating our realities, so better give her some time… No need to freak her out… After all, it’s like for Dory’s nine dogs, they only came gradually, and she just accepted them…

        Dory? Al was wondering… He had heard that name recently… At the wedding party perhaps?

        Dory’s a past overlapping focus of Becky and her step-mother too… answered Léan, the quiet one.

        Al was befuddled. He had first thought these voices were only Becky’s playing games with herself.

        Oh sure it was, answered Oliver, we’ve just be using that wave of thoughts to bring us through. It’s very multi-layered.
        See, take the dogs which Illana talked about right now. You know some of these dogs Dory had (or has, or will have), they have “flecks” of people close to Dory, other essences’ energies. Some are very clearly noticeable, other are more mingled. These voices are multiplexes of voices, more or less subtle energies being expressed. Some are very deep. We were riding the surface of them.

        So, Illana, Lean and Oliver? That’s it?… Nice to meet you… Al was still thinking aloud (like in big characters printed on a silent kaleidoscopic screen)
        And that will be your focus names? Oh, yes… probable ones.
        It’s funny you know, it’s like you are becoming more real now. I can feel some associations coming that help bring you into form. Like Oliver, I associate him with a black dog of Dory. A little grumpy one with funny black eyes.

        The two female laughters mingled into one delightful chorus. Ahaha, we will give you a point for accurate connection!

        “And Léan,” Al continued, “you feel like a young blond woman, friend of Dory ready to get married… Yet, I can see you have a black complexion in this probable focus, unlike your siblings… Sounds a bit confusing…”

        Ahaha, another point!

        “Let me see, Illana now… I got you connected with another friend of Dory… An paleontologist or geologist, living in the US, blond lively woman with painted nails, and… the image is just gone now…”

        — Hehehe, that’s close enough, said Illana’s voice. I can see we’ll meet soon Al

        And the moment after, the wisps of light were gone.

        #838
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          West Cork, Ireland, Summer of 2051

          As she walked along the rocky trail bordering the coast where occasionally whales could be seen at a distance, she was humming deep sounds and harmonies in the damp air filled with the echoes of the cool wind.

          She was aware of distant focuses of herself, living around that place. Past focuses, in that land of the druidesses and druids, and another one, closer to her, in some probable future. Like this other focus, she loved the whales too, and she was able to communicate with her. Catherine Wrick would have loved to be able to live in such a crystalline place she could envision with her eyes closed.

          Her woolen black coat would let the wind insinuate itself through the layers of clothes, and she was starting to feel a little cold now. Temperatures were colder than they used to be in the past, and even now in summer, they would rarely go higher than 15°C. It was time to get back home. She whistled Merlu, her golden labrador, back, and still nestled into her dream-like attention, slowly walked towards her house.

          :fleuron:

          In the comfort of her dome house, she started to leaf through the messages and reminders that she had in a pile on the bed table. Nothing much of interest, except that in a few months time, it would be the first birthday of the twins

          Her step-mother Dorean had sent her two books, when she had learned of the birth of the twins. They were to return to them, when they would be seven, she’d say.
          Why seven?, she’d asked… Dorean had answered that seven was the perfect age for them to get them back —their intuitive abilities would still had much potential, and they would be mature enough to understand and use the books. It was no use for herself to keep the books any longer.

          As she was going to sit in her antique rocking chair for a smoke, Catherine noticed a faint cracking sound. Perhaps Merlu was playing with those hard-boiled eggs she’d been painting recently, without much success, to try to reproduce the perfect glowing green colour of her grandfa… Another crack. She stopped and listened again.
          It couldn’t be Merlu: the dog was now barking.

          She started to wonder Could it be?… After all those years of keeping them…

          The sound was definitely coming from the reading room where the big eggs were put on display…

          #1785

          In reply to: Synchronicity

          Jib
          Participant

            Hey that s a synch yes because when we arrived in Spain, I was feeling different sounds from the earth like inner ones and at that moment TP pointed in the very same direction I was feeling the buzzing sound and she told me Salitre was there.

            And when I first came in her bathroom, I say this poster of “The Mummy and the Humming bird” after you told me about your post of the humming earth.

            #1784

            In reply to: Synchronicity

            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              I read this tonight on yahoo news:

              Earth gives off a relentless hum of countless notes completely imperceptible to the human ear, like a giant, exceptionally quiet symphony, but the origin of this sound remains a mystery. Now unexpected powerful tunes have been discovered in this hum. These new findings could shed light on the source of this enigma.

              more here on Earths Humming

              seem to have been many humming synchs the last few days

              #826

              Irtak was following a singing path inside the Marshes.
              It was cold and windy. The air had this putrid smell that was not so unpleasant. It was adding to the dimensions he was already exploring. He wasn’t feeling the fatigue of walking in that soaked land, his attention was focused on the movement and not the obstacles.

              The twins were walking or flying, changing shape swiftly as the vibrations of the song were accelerating or slowing down, moving between all the energy currents and the lives of these Marshes. His perception merged with those of his companions, it was a completely different reality he was exploring. And these lands were straddling many dimensions, their energies intermingled with other times and spaces.

              The vibration had something similar to where they were from, but it was hidden and tenuous. The dominant harmonics were indicating to him that it was not even the same time framework and their cave was not even dug yet, not even one inhabitant had settled to create his village.

              The vibration suddenly decreased to a tiny nudging in the rear of his head… he was feeling sleepy and Heckle and Jeckle were now winding themselves on the damp floor as if for sleeping. Irtak was feeling their attention move from this regional area slightly, accessing it from another angle. He sat down and realized that though it was humid, it was also warm and soothing.

              He soon let his attention drift away, merged with these of his friends.

              #823

              It had been more than a week now that Claude had broken loose from one captivity to fall into another.
              Not that this gang of strange shape-shifting magpie beings seemed to consider him a captive, rather an impromptu host that they felt obliged to take care of. But Claude wasn’t duped one moment.

              His precedent prison on Tikfijikoo had been relatively easy to break out from, thanks to that unasked for gift of preternatural strength he had gained from the experiments he had be subjected to. Actually, had he not almost been driven mad from pain, he would have been on the loose earlier. Thank the Magpies for his recovered sanity…
              Security on the island facility wasn’t the highest and most difficult he had been confronted to. They seemed to consider the relative isolation of the island and its deadly sharp coral reef encircling it their main asset in keeping their experiments clear from outside interferences.

              Claude snapped back from his thoughts and gazed fixedly at a tender green sprout at his feet while humming a nursery rhyme. An effective trick.
              He had to be more cautious… He knew they could read his surface thoughts…
              Apparently, he could come and go as pleased him, but as he had tried to find his way back to the island facility, he had discovered that the landscape was changing each time he felt close to it. And soon enough, he was finding himself back to the hidden settlement. He knew enough to suspect his affable alien hosts of playing tricks on his mind to keep him in check. Perhaps they were even bending space around their settlement, as far as he knew…
              Not intrusive, and yet not a very different treatment from the inhumane experiments. Except he had no mummy bandages this time…

              Know thy foe so went the adage, and Claude was determined to know enough about his new captors to escape and complete his mission.
              From what he was guessing, as they had not killed him, they probably would release him (if he was lucky) as soon as their mission would be completed —a mission which was most probably the same as his own. Snatching the crystal skull he knew was there somewhere. He could sense they were after it too.
              He was wondering who had hired them to retrieve the thing. Obviously they were not from the common lot of thieves, most certainly not even from this planet, and anyone who had hired them must have been in dire need of the thing.
              He had been told by the Baron that the crystals were storing ancient vast knowledge and that accessing it had been only possible since a few decades, actually since the discovery of coherent beams of light (laser). But even accessed, the information stored remained vastly incomprehensible, and deciphering it could take another millennium without appropriate knowledge of its holographic proprieties.
              The Baron had told humanity was like a child being given a box of books on relativity… And even the mad transvestite doctor was only toying with the tip of an immense iceberg.

              Those Magpies were far more advanced, Claude could see it clearly, and he wondered how he could outdo them, if that was possible. Quite frankly he didn’t know why they had not yet retrieved it. Perhaps they were having trouble locating it too…
              That would mean he still had a head start, however short.

              :fleuron2:

              A faint barking sound seemed to echo in his head… It was apparently coming from… the gnarled trunk of an old majestic tree… Whispers seemed to come from it too, like a child talking with an adult, and whispers around them…
              The tree seemed wide enough for him to enter into the biggest crack of its bark…
              Could it be one of their secret entrances and exits? There had to be coordinate points were they could get out of this warped space… What was he risking to try?

              #1768

              In reply to: Synchronicity

              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                Bill Artist, Magpie and “biggest” synchs:

                A painting has just been sold for the largest sum ever for a living NZ artist $290,000 (i expect that works out to about $257,000 after tax).

                The Artist is Bill Hammond and the painting is called “Fortified Gang Headquarters”. All his paintings have surreal bird/human shapes and this one reminded me of our Gang of Magpies on the island. I can even see some mummy cloth hanging from the branch of a tree :yahoo_laughing:

                #804
                Jib
                Participant

                  He was sitting at his desk in his study room. He was alone, reading a report on the emerging clan of the teardrop Island of Tur. Their Elders were apparently beginning to gather some influence upon their kin. The Rule of the Guardians was still prevalent, even though it was now being questioned by these humans. The fear impressed upon their mind for centuries was strong enough to keep them away from the caves leading to the portals, yet from day to day it was diminishing. The Guardians could feel it, but it mattered not, now.

                  Sinadron scratched his head with his left hand. He was old by the standard of the Guardians. A few centuries. He was one of the strongest along with 2 of the others. Noraam and Keliom, who were still in their youth, were 2 of the 12 other Gates, the higher honorific among them. Their influence was strong as they were the focal points of the powers of their people in the most powerful rituals.

                  Pushing back the report, he took the wooden cookie jar. Once opened, the smell of the Langurdy cinnamon spread all over the space. Intoxicating scent. He was quite fond of this commodity, rare and sophisticate, the cookies were made by humans. Sinadron was thankful to them in the culinary area. The metabolism of the Guardians was quite different from that of the humans, and their preferences in matter of food were also quite different, though they could share some of them, and the Landurdy cinnamon was one.

                  He had been so engrossed in his appreciation of the spice that he hadn’t noticed the nudging in his left arm. When he finally realized that someone was trying to contact him he closed the jar and put it back in place, beneath his key. He took his hand capacitor and focused on the kinesthetic movements of the molecules of his arm. It was his preferred method to focus on the caller’s energy. The vibrations were those of Nareena, one of the Gates of the Phréal. She wouldn’t let her energy merge in such intimacy, though she knew his interest.

                  Sinadron took a more comfortable position on his rocky chair and directed its energy in such a way that it would adapt to the form of his body consciousness. Slowly reconfiguring so he could relax more fully.

                  In a flash all was said. She’d given him an energy ball and he had captured it, using his capacitor to store it up. No more interaction was necessary, and from the surface of the message ball, he knew it was not so important. He would consult it later. Sitting up, he put his still glowing capacitor on his desk and took back his cookie jar while the rocky chair was reconfiguring again to adapt to his new position.

                  What a smell… :chomping:

                  #801

                  The cold wind was blowing upon the marshes. The atmosphere was damp and dark with threatening gray clouds. A storm was approaching and Asiir was dreaming.

                  Her dreams were so strong that they were triggering many emotions in her rider. Since their bonding seven years ago, their link had grown stronger and Lola wouldn’t think of shutting it down even in those uncomfortable moments. They were one.

                  Lola was feeling a menace, some undefined threat coming with the storm, as if the storm was just the visible counterpart of what was preparing. In those moments, Lola couldn’t help but think of her family and her village… Her fist grasped tightly the grip of the sword she was holding.

                  Everyone was killed when she was nine. Her dragon wasn’t fully developed at that time and couldn’t help her save her people. All Asiir could do was shield her from them as she was shielding herself, not even thinking of it.

                  She sighed deeply, releasing the pressure of the storm and of the dreams. She’d learnt not to hold on the powerful emotional responses but to open herself as a channel of her dragon’s dreams. All she could do was let the energy flow through her. Was it Asiir creating the storm or the storm disturbing Asiir’s dreams? She wasn’t aware of the answer yet, but at times it had bothered her to think that her dragon could cause “bad things” to happen.

                  A chilly breeze and a surge of electricity. She grinned impishly.
                  It was the time of her lesson.

                  You’re late master. she thought to the shadowy figure behind her. She was feeling something different that day in the presence. You’re not alone. I can feel a different energy with you today…

                  The dragon growled in her agitated sleep.

                  Your emotions are dragon drenched again, Lola. I know you consider it a proof of your connection with your beast, but it may be far more damaging than you think.

                  Lola had felt a twinge at how Samira had called her friend, she was feeling her emotions rise dangerously to the point which she had learned she could not control herself. She had always wondered if Samira was seriously considering dragons as beasts or if she was teasing her, especially since she had let the connection develop in such a way.

                  You’re going to have a new teacher…

                  Lola’s heartbeat accelerated slightly, so slightly, but she could feel her mentor’s smile upon her interrogations. Was she leaving? She’d always dreaded such a moment. She felt the wry expression of Samira.

                  I’m not going away… you need a training that I can’t give you. You need to learn how to ride properly over your bond and not get consumed by it, and Noraam can teach you that.

                  A strange impression of connection with the new energy flew in her, making her feel quite uneasy. Such an intimacy was unusual with another human energy. Or was he human?

                  A sudden surge of energy made her wince. She turned to her mentor and was surprised to only see Samira in her stout armor. She could feel the strength of the other energy but she couldn’t give him a form. She was feeling nudged gently from many directions at the same time and realized that she was afraid of loosing her bond with her friend. Wasn’t she trusting her bond? Another chill, and the rain started falling.

                  You won’t really need all that Samira taught you during these last 4 years

                  The inner voice was almost inaudible, but still she could feel it was not a voice and that the communication was going through another pathway. The vegetation of the marshes and few rocks were shifting to an unnatural yellow tint, and the faint glow around her teacher was growing in intensity. Actually, all the objects around her was beginning to glow, the limits of their shapes were collapsing.

                  Lola was sill feeling the link with Asiir but it was thinning down in such an unfamiliar way.

                  I’m going to help you remove the veils that Samira helped you put on your consciousness when you first met. But first you need to renew the link with yourself.

                  She heard a vague sound of steel on the ground… had she lost her sword? She couldn’t feel her body. She couldn’t move as she was used to… but was it still something to move? The face of a man was forming in the energy patterns of the glowing clouds. Was he close or far away? Was he huge or of human size? Was she massive?

                  A pounding sound in the distance of her inner ear… a familiar call but she was still so far.

                  #1910
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    tjmarshall (3/6/2008 12:43): Here : Wrick!!!
                    :notepad: Wyrick’s documented interests, besides mound exploration and surveying, included geo-magnetism, anomalous boulders, river terraces, beaver dams and sorghum processing. Wyrick is an archaeologist and had access to the site, he could easily place the stone in an area of his choosing and simply “discover” it the next day.
                    (Newark Decalogue Stone)
                    :yahoo_tongue:

                    #775
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Schnortz was finding it amusing connecting to the Tarty Nun. The focus of his meditations as a monk in the Laughing Order were primarily focused on humour, as one might imagine. The Ancient Order of The Laughing Monks of Kuzhebar was one of the lightest jolliest places on earth, and Schnortz was loving every minute of it.

                      Grinning rather wickedly (for a monk) Schnortz sent Becky another limerick.

                      #767
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        State of Marshall VS Vinya Grey
                        extracts of procedure 5057TP on case of unsolved time-blink that may have interfered with the timeline – Aug. 5th, 2237

                        — As you are certainly most aware, Ms Grey, local authorities of the T FGF P (Timespace and Further Geodimensional Flux Police) has recently uncovered a case of unexplainable appearance of a new species within the past.
                        The genetic makeup of this species bears some rather crude indication of human interference, though no official authorization has been recorded on its behalf. Our investigations have led us to believe you may have more than a little to do with this incident, which is, as you are once again quite aware, within the boundaries of decree 5533 on allowed and banned interferences and seeding into the timeline.

                        — Objection, Judge! Prosecutor Arkandiusz is trying to intimidate my client. No proof has been yet produced that may confirm or infirm these allegations.

                        — Mmmm… Objection rejected. Please continue Mr. Arkandiusz.

                        — Shall I remind Ms Grey that the voluntary or involuntary seeding of new species within other areas has most of the time been disastrous, which is the reason of the decree aforementioned. Precedents were numerous even when our ancestors were not even aware of the possibility of time interference. Rabbits in Australia, does it ring any bell?

                        — Objection, Judge! We are not talking about deadly pests here, we are talking about severely handicapped goats! Jeeze, come on…

                        — … Do you mean, the Fainting Goats of our annual Fair, Mr Frey?

                        — Yes, Judge Cornwick.

                        — Oh, that is most interesting… Well, perhaps after this long introduction you may want to introduce your first witness Mr Arkandiusz, Ms… Beryl is that?

                        #762
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          The glowing light was showing a familiar face…

                          — So the boy is wavering?
                          — Yes. He is uncertain of the path… Does seem to have difficulty to trust his calling and take responsibilities being the owner of…
                          — He’ll do that. We can’t let him run away from it, nor afford the time of little vacationing. Did you secure the item?
                          — Yes. But you know it is worthless unless willingly handed over by the previous owner, right?
                          — Certainly. But I feel he’ll soon wish it back.
                          — I have words of cankerous corruption, endemic to where he was sent.
                          — Precisely.

                          :fleuron2: :fleuron2: :fleuron2:

                          Glasgow, Scotland, February 25 th 2068, Wrick Fundation

                          — So Cuthbert has refused?
                          — Yes. With his sister busy with her first-born, she can’t take on that much responsibility either.
                          — This is most regrettable. Lord Wrick’s will was perfectly clear though. Should none of the twins accept running his empire, all of its wealth would be used for humanitarian projects of the Fundation.

                          :fleuron:

                          A week before, Orkney Islands

                          Cuthbert, you must accept.
                          — Please, don’t wear yourself out Pope. Your body is weak.

                          Cuthbert’s face was drenched by emotion. Despite his small frame and his scrawny body, Lord Hilarion Wrick’s strong will was still present, as if etched on his face by all the years of reign. He wouldn’t take a “no” for answer, even now he was dying, just as he had never accepted it in his nearly 120 years of existence.

                          Cuthbert, listen to me. All this time you and your sister have spent at the Manor, all of the time I spent with you, this was not meant for naught, you know that. I was not some old decrepit rag of an elder waiting for his death cushioned between the laughters of his great-grand children. I noticed how you and your sister handled at an early age what I have been showing to you. The books,… the mummy even. This was only a test. What I had not found in Sean, nor in his son, I found out in you and your sister. Mind you, it took me that long, but it was worth the wait, and I know how to be patient.
                          — You’re repeating yourself Pope, I know this story. I am very grateful for all that you did, all the knowledge I owe to you, but I can’t accept. It’s just… too much! I just want to spend these moments with you.
                          — You just cannot whine throughout all of your existence Cuthbert. You chose to be born here, at this moment, in that family. There is no point in refusing what you have placed on your path.
                          — I’m not whining! It’s just that… I just want a normal life! answered Cuthbert vehemently
                          — Very well then. The face on the Lord was resolute despite his writhing in pain. You will have to see how much life is nothing meant to be normal. In the meantime, I would appreciate your letting me die alone.

                          #1721

                          In reply to: Synchronicity

                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Just found a strange animal :goat:   the Japanese Serow….. :yahoo_thinking:

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