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  • #374
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Tina was still living in the past. My golly, Tina, it’s 2033, not 2003!!! The times had shifted! Becky almost shouted.

      #371

      Dublin, November 2057

      Hallowe’en had always been associated with fond memories with Sean. After all, back in 2033, it was the inauguration date of the first T.R.A.P. entertainment park, where he and Becky had been falling madly in love with each other.

      There had been lots of things for Sean to put aside, especially considering how quick it all had been for them, especially considering the death of his wife, and this too short period of grieving by all standards, but well, bugger off the others.
      He had not wanted to give any explanation, and Becky and him were sure of what they did.
      And all had changed that year, even Becky had suddenly wished for lots of children. And they’ve had got children…

      2035, the triplets: Oliver, Léan and Illana
      2037 the quintuplets: Flora, Finn, Frank, Fanny and Fergie
      and finally, in 2038, quadruplets: Vivian, Eve, Kevin and Mavie

      He was thinking of his father, and how they had almost ceased to communicate. The children now, were almost all grown-ups and this would be the first Christmas they would have together with Becky without the children. Sean was feeling a bit nostalgic.
      Perhaps he should phone his father, the upright Lord Hilarion Wrick…

      #1541

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        I bought a book because the author’s name is Yann. As well as a Yann synch, I also think this is a book synch, and it is a sign that the story will become a book and will sell well.
        :face-plain:

        Also there was a baby crying in the supermarket, so that is another baby synch, and even as I type I can hear one crying in the far off distance. Yikes. Synch.

        #370

        — The legend of Mævel — (Part III)

        When the blue fox had disappeared, deep into the woods, Mævel was left wondering if all of that had only been a dream. Perhaps it was just a dream, and something that would make her parents raise their shoulders in dismay.
        Especially since she had lost their gift carelessly they would say, the little pearl white ribbon…

        She picked up the clothes that were left hanging to dry up in the wind, and came back to the little house.

        Of course, her father Jorg noticed that she was not wearing the ribbon, but he was not much of a question asker, and things were or were not, and analyzing them was unnecessary for him. But of course, Ilga noticed it too, and she felt sad for poor Jorg who had endured so many sacrifices to buy the little ribbon that Mævel was no longer wearing. She wanted an explanation! Was it no longer to Mævel’s tastes, had Mævel lost it?

        So Mævel, who could not lie to anybody, told them her encounter with Blohmrik, the cursed god in the woods, in the shape of a wounded blue fox… and at each of her words, was seeing their faces more and more disconcerted.
        Their poor girl, who was already so different, had completely lost it,… ribbon and all that was left of common sense in her.

        So they locked her up in the bedroom, that she was now occupying alone, as all of her brothers and sisters had left. Just to save her from herself, and see if that would help her gain some more solid sense of reality.

        Mævel understood her parents, but she was deeply contrite that they could not understand what she had lived. Mævel was still doubting the reality of her meeting the blue fox, so she asked for some sign from the Gods before going to sleep, to see clearly.

        That night, Mævel dreamt of a dark-haired young man with a white diadem1 around his head, dressed in a cerulean blue tunic and wearing a sword. He was enshrouded in a warm light and as she took the hand he was extending, they were carried away by a springing scented wind into a meadow of multicoloured flowers, some of which she had not even known could exist. She had felt at home.
        When she woke up, in the middle of the night, Mævel was transfixed by the beautiful soothing dream. She could not remember much more, but he had told her something. That there was deep magic in her, and it would help her find her true home, but that she would have to gain back her true name from the Elder God who had took it from her.

        She quickly took her decision. She knew she had to search for the blue fox in the forest. But how could she escape the locked bedroom? She was starting to feel desperate again, but she remembered that there was some magic in her, and how she had felt it deeply true in her dream.
        As she was focusing on the warm expanding feeling of her dream, an old rusty key materialized in her hand.

        1 diadem: [ ˈdī-ə-ˌdem (dəm) ] from Greek diadēma, from diadein to bind around; akin to Sanskrit dāman rope — was originally a white ribbon, ending in a knot and two strips that were placed often on the shoulders, that surrounded the head of the king to denote his authority.

        #369

        These guests have been once again distracted on their way to the party… Malvina was thinking, munching some raisins for her stomach was growling now.
        Perhaps they were gathering more guests along the way, the cave was so full of surprises.

        Oh yes they are, said Leörmn, they have now a little Ugling boy in their care… It’s like this young woman has truly a golden heart…
        Aaaand, added Leörmn with a mischievous smile, I guess this unlikely couple with a baby will probably have some surprises in spare for us,… notwithstanding the fact that the cave’s tunnels are already steamy anyway.

        Malvina caught off guard, almost rolled on the floor laughing at the unexpected probability that had surfaced in her mind, and blurted out a swear word “Boston!”

        #366
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Sanso decided to call the baby boy Zacquer. Yikes was such a silly name for a blue eyed baby boy.

          #364
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Sanso was surprised at how attached he’d gotten in such a very short time to the poor wee scrap, shunted from pillar to post already and still barely a week old. He made up his mind to take the baby back, perhaps when it was a bit older.

            #363

            Arona was surprised that Sanso wanted the baby and she was not sure what to do. She felt the baby had been entrusted to her, and felt quite caring towards it. Sanso grabbed it from her, and she could see that he really wanted it.

            She would need to feel her way through this. Yikesy started crying.

            Mandrake looked at her and rolled his eyes. Do you want the baby or not, Arona? he asked her

            Suddenly she felt clear. Yes I do she said, smiling. And she thanked Sanso graciously, for his kind offer, and he willingly handed Yikesy back to her, realising that having a baby was probably not suited to his lifestyle.

            In fact Sanso was relieved. The cute little blue eyes had started looking quite rat like when Yikesy started crying.

            So it was all perfect.

            In fact it was all hunky dory.:yahoo_sick:

            and off they went.

            #340
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              hmmmm, said Arona, this is rather a predicament.

              I am going to have to face this head on, she said to the others in her usual practical manner. Okay I can’t look after this baby in the cave, I had better pop out for a bit and see if I can bump into a spare nanny somewhere. Then the nanny can look after the baby while I continue my explorations

              Arona looked down at the wee baby face though, and it was so very endearingly ugly, that she wondered if she would be able to leave little Yikesy with a nanny. She hugged Yikesy to her lovingly.

              I will just have to play it by ear, she thought, although she knew the answer already.

              #359

              New Venice, year 2101

              In the waiting hall, Bart was pacing the floor recklessly. They were having their first baby, but the doctors had hushed him out, because there were some complications…
              All he could do was wait.
              They were one of the first couple to have tested the new program that allowed same-sex couples to procreate without requiring the assistance of a third-party so to speak. In fact, it had been hypothesized to be possible a long time ago already. Well, theoretically… because the most challenging part had been to bring acceptance to the people, as the old beliefs were still alive in a few moribund activist groups. But what,… nature was doing even more exotic things in the realm of creatures…

              Now he was thinking of Oscar, who had chosen to be the bearer of the child —a girl that would be… will be, mentally corrected Bart to himself. Funny thing about genetics was that male-male couples could have either girls or boys, but female-female couples could only have girls. Only because the male “Y” chromosome was carried by men.
              It had been a painstakingly long subject of discussion among scientists and philosophers as to the unbalance it would create, but well, for the time being, it was the chosen design for our human natures.
              As long as new ways of bypassing this restriction had not been invented, better enjoy it than stretching one’s mind around it.

              Looking at the window which showed the stilted structures above the waters, Bart was thinking how it was all an incredible story… What were the probabilities for that to happen?
              Bart couldn’t help but feel grateful for all of his blessings.

              At the same moment, the big breasted nurse appeared at the door crying with a large smile “it’s a healthy girl!”
              Bart burst into the room.

              :fleuron:

              They had already decided how she would be called. Midora, they had agreed.

              When he entered, Oscar Wrick’s young face was tired and sprinkled with beads of perspiration, but he had the happiest look on his face. He was still feeling a bit self-conscious about the changes the pregnancy had generated in his body, but for now he was all absorbed by the little breathing thing resting in his arms.

              After a warm embrace, Bartholomew Jobsworth thought that he should spread the good news to the family, at least to his mother, dear sparkling Indy and Bart’s parents, Eugenia and Cuthbert. He also had felt the presence of his Dad, Bill, during his wait and was deeply thankful for all of their support.

              #1534

              In reply to: Synchronicity

              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                About Yurara Fameliki (comment # 220)

                Yurara (ゆらら の月 Yurara no Tsuki)

                Yurara Tsukinowa is a quiet girl who can see spirits and sense their emotions. Not wanting to seem abnormal, she hides her secret until she meets Mei Tendo and Yako Hoshino, two guys who use their spiritual powers to ward off vengeful spirits. The dormant guardian spirit in Yurara arises and a strong-willed beauty with the power to release souls emerges.

                #355

                Gibraltar, Spain, October, 23 rd 2007

                When Dory’s partner (well, the last one that is) came back from his shower into the lounge, he found little Becky playing with Dory’s computer as though it were her own.
                He had always found strange that his first wife’s daughter had get along so well with the temperamental archaeologist… In fact they mostly ignored each other, but they were so similar in many respect that it was like they didn’t even need to communicate, they just knew each other.

                Becky was only 5 (or was it 7? Dan never knew of course, which made Sabine, his first wife, constantly reproach him his lack of care) but she was brilliant. Perhaps that was the father in him talking, but he knew she would be doing great things. At such a young age, she had read The Perilous Treks of Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson (written by the Lord’s widow-then-remarried wife Floribunda von Grotto) so many times he had lost track himself (“as always,…” “now shut up Sabine, will you!”) and that was the least of her talents, he could tell.

                For the moment, Dan was more wondering about Dorothy. It had been nearly a month she had been away for her vacations in Madagascar. Two weeks more than she had told him… And there was this Jabin man in Tel-Aviv still trying to reach her. Well at least, he had forwarded the message to the hotel, so she would have had it.
                She might have delayed her return, especially if she had found some interesting archaeological stuff… well or a more handsome man… At least Dan could understand the handsome man, he laughed so loud Becky turned her head to him.

                — Are you alright Daddy?
                — Oh yes I am, treasure. What are you doing on Dory’s laptop? Not breaking anything are you?
                — Oh no… I’m just having fun with one of Dory’s friend…
                — Ahahaha, really? Dan was impressed
                — Yes! But I didn’t tell her that Dody Doo was not home, she’s a bit of a worry wort.
                — Ahahaha… Dory will come back, sooner or later, don’t worry…
                — Oh, but I don’t worry Daddy! I know that she’s well. Now, I’ll tell bye bye to Fionny Fea and we can play backgammon!

                #354
                ÉricÉric
                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…

                  #87
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Will no doubt wander back over here later……going to catch up on some sleep :yahoo_whistling:

                    #353
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Nora Long was dying. She knew she didn’t have long left, and she had some affairs still to attend to before she was no longer able. Nora was a childless spinster, a frugal recluse with an uncanny knack for winning premium bond and lottery prizes; nothing big enough to attract much attention, but more than enough for her needs. Consequently, she had quietly amassed a fortune over the years ~ and she wasn’t about to let the state have it all.

                      Nora had spent most of her 88 years dreaming, and talking to ghosts and spirits. She wrote all of it down in notebooks, hundreds and hundreds of them, until the advent of the computer in more recent years. She had splashed out and bought one, and gamely taught herself how to use it, keeping her journals online from then on.

                      Nora discovered how to google one day. Wondering what in the world she might want to search for, a name popped into her head: Yurara Fameliki.

                      Nora had learned to trust her impulses, and she searched for the unusual name, double checking first with the voice in her head as to the correct spelling.

                      Nora began to read the story on the websites first page. Three days later, she was still reading it, as it grew day by day. Nora was almost sorry she had already chosen to die. At last she had found some people she could relate to!

                      But Nora was too weary to change her mind. She did have a plan though, a plan that cheered her greatly. On the websites pages she had noticed a little sign saying ‘Buy a Drink’.

                      #1484
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster
                        bc. like block of code, but the yellow one is "raw" text
                        like block of code, but the yellow one is "raw" text

                        You can also use this for highlight

                        This will @highlight some words@ in your sentence

                        This will highlight some words in your sentence

                        #352
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          If Tina hadn’t hung up the phone so fast, Becky mumbled to herself, I could have told her I was with Sam, and she could say hello to him herself. And I could have asked her to come over and help me try to get some rice water down him.

                          So far he’d refused, asking instead for flowers and sweets. Delirious, Becky suspected, and running a fever. And still scribbling all that jibberish!

                          #1477
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Well thanks for that Eric, but I am still non the wiser :yahoo_idk:
                            When I want to do some easy peasy textile formatting (if I ever find out what it is) I will ask again!!! :yahoo_heehee:

                            Jib
                            Participant

                              October, 22 nd

                              There is always a beginning… adding stuffs later :D

                              October, 24 th

                              Continuing.
                              It appears that the physical laws in this dimension are quite different from those in the dimension of Quintin and the others.
                              The inhabitant of this dimension do not limit their land in the same way as the inhabitants of Earth do. There is still much to discover, much that is not inhabited yet.

                              The 4 Warring Kingdoms are about to reconfigure their borders, outwardly and inwardly… they are 4 parts of the same people. Once they were 12, and they are in a manner of speaking reuniting. They are going through a kind of mini shift and will have to move their attention to other beliefs…

                              At the moment Baul is part of the changes as are the others… each playing his own role quite playfully.
                              Baul’s intention is not what it would appear, and he’s not aware yet of all the implications of what he’s about to ask the Assassin.

                              The Marshlands are inhabited by a race of small silver Armelides. With powerful innermagic… they are yet to be discovered by the Warring Kingdoms.

                              #348

                              The Assassin was already in the room when Baul came in… Baul wasn’t sure if he would have prefered him not to be here so he could himself gather his mind. But he was well used to camouflage his feelings and inner struggle and his face was quite smiling, as usual.

                              Looking at the Assassin’s face, Baul was feeling very uncomfortable, he almost winced… the bluish glow of the dagger tatoo on the forehead of the man was quite disgusting. Baul kept smiling though, he wouldn’t dare show his own weakness to anyone, especially an Assassin. His eyes were piercing his soul, if Baul had believed in such thing he would have run away, but he didn’t believe in anything except himself and the power of money.

                              As the Assassin was never talking first, Baul presented his offer putting the object he had brought on the table.

                              — Open the chest. You’ll find your paiement inside.

                              :fleuron:

                              Ar’Am Khra was waiting, still gazing sharply at Baul, making him feel even more uncomfortable.
                              The Assassin was quite impressed with how the man Baul could master his own reactions, and though he was quite intrigued by what his client had brought, he wanted to play for a few moments. With a very slight movement of his eyebrows, so slight one wouldn’t have notice, he managed to add an irritation in his look. He saw the movement of fear in his client’s face, but still it was so subtle he could have imagined it.

                              :fleuron:

                              Baul pushed the chest toward the Assassin, a bit nervous, but he could …. a sudden thought came to his mind, wandering like a Strokgnutch in a henhouse. He swallowed imperceptibly… Had someone already put a contract on his head? He managed a smile as he was opening the chest for the Assassin.

                              :fleuron:

                              This Baul was quite impressive. Ar’Am Khra had known what he was thinking as though he could read his mind.

                              He lowered his eyes to look at what was in the chest. He really desired being surprised by his clients, and this one had never failed to surprise him…

                              :yahoo_alien:

                              Once again…

                              :fleuron:

                              Baul was surprised as the Assassin wasn’t showing any hint of the slightest emotion at all… Would he show anything else than disdain even once!?

                              :fleuron:

                              — A glubolín :yahoo_alien:

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