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  • #6774

    As they trekked through the endless dunes, Lord Gustard could barely contain his excitement. The thought of discovering the bones of the legendary giant filled him with a childlike wonder, and he eagerly scanned the horizon for any sign of their destination. As the fearless leader of the group, he had a deep-seated passion for adventure and exploration, a love for pith helmets. However, his tendency to get lost in his own thoughts at the most inconvenient times could sometimes get him in tricky situations. Despite this, he has an unshakable determination to succeed and a deep respect for the cultures and traditions of the places he visits.

    Lady Floribunda, on the other hand, was the picture of patience and duty. She knew that this journey was important to her husband and she supported him unwaveringly, even as she silently longed for the comforts of home. Her first passion was for gossips and the life of socialites —but there was hardly any gossip material in the desert, so she fell back to her second passion, botany, that would often get her lost in her own world, examining and cataloging the scant flora and fauna they encountered on their journey. It wasn’t unusual to hear her at time talking to plants as if they were her dolls or children.

    Cranky, meanwhile, couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Lord Gustard’s exuberance. “I swear, if I have to listen to one more of his whimsical ramblings, I’ll go mad,” she muttered to herself. Her tendency to grumble about the hardships of their journey had taken a turn for the worse, considering the lack of comfort from the past nights. She was as sharp-tongued as she was pragmatic, with a love for tea and crumpets that bordered on obsessive. Despite her grumpiness, she has a heart of gold and a deep affection for her companions, and especially young Illi.

    Illi, on the other hand, was thrilled by every new discovery along the way. Whether it was a curious beetle scuttling across the sand or a shimmering oasis in the distance, she couldn’t help but express her excitement with a constant stream of questions and exclamations. Illi was a bright and enthusiastic young girl, with a passion for adventure and a wide-eyed wonder at the world around her. She had a tendency to burst into song at the most unexpected moments.

    Tibn Zig and Tanlil Ubt remained loyal and steadfast, shrugging off any incongruous spur of the moment extravagant outburst from Gustard. Their experience in the desert had taught them to stay calm and focused, no matter what obstacles they might encounter. But behind the stoic façade, they had a penchant for telling tall tales and playing practical jokes on their companions. Their mischievousness was however only for good fun, and they had become fiercely loyal to Lord Gustard after he’d rescued them from sand bandits who were planning to sell them as slave. Needless to say, they would have done whatever it takes to keep the Fergusson family safe.

    Illi was hoping for eccentric traders and desert nomads to fortune-seeking treasure hunters and conniving bandits, but for miles it was just plain unending desert. The worst they found on their path were unending sand dunes, a few minuscule deadly scorpions, and mostly contending with the harsh desert sun beating down upon them. Finally, after days of wandering through the desert, they reached their destination.

    As they approached Tsnit n’Agger, the landscape began to change. The sand dunes gave way to rocky cliffs and towering red sandstone formations, and the air grew cooler and more refreshing. The group pressed on, their spirits renewed by the prospect of discovering the secrets of the legendary giant’s bones.

    At last, they arrived at the entrance to the giant’s cave. Lord Gustard led the way, his torch casting flickering shadows on the walls as they descended deeper into the earth. The air grew colder and damper, and the sounds of dripping water echoed around them.

    As they turned a corner, they suddenly found themselves face to face with the giant’s bones. Towering above them, the massive skeletal structure filled the cavern from floor to ceiling. The sight of the giant’s bones towering above them was awe-inspiring, and Lord Gustard was practically bouncing with excitement. The group behind him was in awe, even Cranky, as they were taking in the enormity and majesty of the ancient creature.

    Floribunda and Cranky exchanged a weary but amused look, while Illi gazed up at the bones with wide-eyed wonder.

    “Let’s get to work,” Lord Gustard declared, his enthusiasm undimmed. And with that, they set to the task of uncovering the secrets of the legendary giant, each in their own way.

    #4871

    In reply to: Coma Cameleon

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson helped his wife Floribunda onto the camel,” Tibu spoke softly, gently turning the well worn page. “And clamboured onto his own. Cranky and Illi were mounted on donkeys, as were Tibn Zig and Tanlil Ubt, their local guides. Three hot dusty days, and two bitterly cold nights away lay their destination: Tsnit n’Agger and the home of the legendary giant of the Alal’ Azntignit.”

      A movement caught Tibu’s eye and he glanced up. She was still there, listening.

      He turned back to the book and continued reading. Cranky was feeling like a fish out of water in the desert, but Illi had taken to it like a duck to water. Not that there was alot of water about in the desert, Cranky grumbled to herself. What she wouldn’t have given for a nice hot cup of tea and a crumpet.”

      “Hey, would you like a cup of tea?” she interrupted. “It’s such rotten weather to stand out here and I ~ well, I like just listening to you.”

      #403

      November, 1 st 2057

      Sean took another glass of scotch to give him some courage to call.

      — It’s your twelfth now, that’s supposed to give you courage
      — Oh, Maggie, my live is such a mess…
      — It’s not, and you know it. Look at all our beautiful children, and Becky who went through so much just out of love for you…

      Sean didn’t know whether he was actually seeing the ghost of his deceased wife, or a projection of her, still alive in another part of the Universe, but she always had been a comforting presence.
      He had started to see her a few months after her disappearance.
      Yes, during that T.R.A.P. expedition, yeah, “live-changing experience” they had said… True, too true… Perhaps the electromagnetic field had messed up with his brains, but now he could see her clear as day.

      That had been a bit freaky in the beginning, and when they made love with Becky, he was a bit anxious to see her appear not invited. But Margaret had been discrete, well mostly. At times, he wondered if she had not sneaked into the bedroom and merged her energies with Becky’s, just to be closer to him… Becky’s acts did not always make sense anyway, so that was hardly a criterion to judge of that.

      All his live had been like that. A jumble of incoherent stuff. Oh, he had enjoyed it, especially at the beginning. His father Lord Wrick was obsessed with the Shift, and had found some ancient knowledge in his youth. Mostly rubbish by nowadays standards, bunches of rotten books of prophecies handed down to a few chosen ones, who were supposed to be forewarned of doom to come. Now, they knew that they were only a wake up call, but at that time, it was another thing altogether.

      Of course, the wealth accumulated over the centuries by the Wrick family had been helpful to access these precious archaeological documents. A few of them had played a key role.
      For instance, the in-extenso Life and Deeds of Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson, a rare version of the diary of Lord Fergusson, annotated by his daughter, Illi, was telling an account of history much different than the one romanced after his death by his wife Floribunda von Grott.
      Thanks to it, Lord Wrick had been able to acquire some inkling as to ancient treasures. Old fool…
      It had killed his wife, Artemisia, devastated by the madness of her husband, and it had alienated the other part of the family too.
      But all that counted was to make the discoveries, and perhaps enlight the masses.

      Sean had never really forgave his father that he wanted to utilise Margaret and have her fit into his plans of grandeur. Of course, his father had willingly accepted the union, and despite all appearances (for the sake of those rapacious journalists) he had even pushed Sean to do it quickly. But all he was really interested in was her precious discoveries.

      — Oh, but I was not innocent, Sean
      — I know Maggie, you were obsessed by what we could offer to you, especially when you read about the botanical experiments in the deserts, which were related in that old book. But still…
      — We all had grown up through that, you know…
      — Yes, and what showed me that, was that I was concerned that the old vampire would suck my own children into his web, but Peregrine was too free for that, and Guinevere preferred to live her live outside of this madness too.
      Becky had a good influence. Do me a favour, be kind to her.
      — You know what?… Yes of course you’d know,… but let me tell you, so that we can laugh together… I found myself really happy and free when I stole the two magical books out of the Old Fool’s clutch. God knows how he acquired them, but one thing was sure, he was obsessed with them. I couldn’t get the mummy, but the books were a great take.
      — And a funny idea to give them to your cousin…
      — Yes, Dorean was the perfect person. I couldn’t leave them anywhere, my father would have found them again. At least he wasn’t in good terms with his brother and sister-in-law, so they were safe in their care. And at least, they were more grounded than my father, the perfect keepers for the books… I’m wondering what happened to them…
      — That will upset you, but Perry’s twins got them.
      — Oh really?
      — Yes, and they are having fun with them, as was intended.
      — That’s fine then, and we are less obsessed now than we were before, so I guess my father isn’t as much as a pain in the butt as he was…
      — You father meant good
      — Yes, like everyone, but why can’t we leave people alone at times? People can sort out their issues without the commiseration, and the good intentions… It’s poison even worse… Like I can drink and still be healthy, and nice, and…

      Sean started to sob.

      — I know, darling, but you’re as much of a sore as your father was… You focus so much on what’s not going right, and you don’t even appreciate that you can talk with your departed wife… That was nothing as easy in the old days.
      — Do you think my father talks with mum to?
      — I think he would be too proud to admit he is sorry… That may hinder the communication… But Arty wouldn’t bear grudge now. When we let go of the physical, things become so clear, we can only be accepting of everything. Perhaps you prefer to wait for your father to cross over? I can tell you something, that won’t be easier. That much I know.
      — You’re right. It’s just that I don’t know how to start…
      — Be yourself, talk about what you enjoy, where is your passion now… Perhaps that is the problem. You’re drowning your passion in your scotch.
      — You’re right… I’ll tell him Léan will have a baby.
      — Oh, he’ll love it!
      — How time flies… sighed Sean, I still remember the little sweetie as a blue-eyed laughing baby herself, with Oliver and Illana. She was the only one of the triplet to have inherited her mother’s dark complexion. She’s so beautiful…
      — Let’s call your father darling
      — Yes, let’s call him.

      ***

      Lord Wrick had not expected to received that call. Well, he had renounced it so long ago.
      He had been a bit shaken, but also relieved. He had proposed, on an impulse, to invite that whole part of the family he barely knew, Sean’s new partner, and all their children for next Christmas in the castle. Sean had told him they would probably come with Becky but that the children were now having their own lives, and it would have to be for another time.

      ***

      Lord Wrick went to see Bill, who was now painting the portraits of Peregrine and Linda in the veranda.
      He would probably have to stay longer, to paint a lot of new family portraits.

      That probably would come perfectly, as ever, as the Lord could tell India Louise loved to spend time with the painter. Perhaps she would become an artist too… :sumari:

      #397
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Sanso emerged from the dark cave, squinting in the bright sunlight. He could hear a bit of a commotion going on, and while his eyes adjusted to the light, he heard a voice in his head reciting as if from a book:

        « Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson helped his wife Floribunda onto the camel, and clamboured onto his own. Cranky and Illi were mounted on donkeys, as were Tibn Zig and Tanlil Ubt, their local guides. Three hot dusty days, and two bitterly cold nights away lay their destination: Tsnit n’Agger and the home of the legendary giant of the…… »

        Sanso found himself looking into the eyes of a curious child, and presumed correctly that the child was Illi. Illi stared at the apparition in indigo blue robes, without mentioning him to the other members of her group. After some moments of wordless communication and understanding, they winked at each other.

        Sanso, Illi now knew, would lead them to the giant bones.

        #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!

        #335

        Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson helped his wife Floribunda onto the camel, and clamboured onto his own. Cranky and Illi were mounted on donkeys, as were Tibn Zig and Tanlil Ubt, their local guides. Three hot dusty days, and two bitterly cold nights away lay their destination: Tsnit n’Agger and the home of the legendary giant of the Alal’ Azntignit.

        Cranky was feeling like a fish out of water in the desert, but Illi had taken to it like a duck to water. Not that there was alot of water about in the desert, Cranky grumbled to herself. What she wouldn’t have given for a nice hot cup of tea and a crumpet. She looked at Illi and her face softened. Just look at the delight in that dear childs eyes, she said to herself. My, but she’s a chip off the old block. Make herself at home anywhere, she would. Or make her home anywhere, Cranky thought, wistfully remembering their games of Wish House back at Rubbingdon.

        Let’s just hope Lord Gus finds those bones quickly and we can all go home.

        #301

        Illi was quite pleased with the sand dragons.

        HHHMMM, they don’t repulse me like dragons usually do. I think it’s because they are sand dragons, and sand is so much nicer than slimy cold scales. Well! Illi thought, I really wouldn’t know if they are slimy or cold, because, for the love of all-that-is, I would not choose to venture that close!

        Illi chose to ignore her rather paradoxical musings on loving all that is, which would by definition include the beastly dragons, and turned her attention to the sand giant slouching patiently at the end of the beach.

        Now giants, that’s another thing entirely. I am quite enamoured of giants, and this one looks so familiar!

        Illi leaned back against the sand dragons bulky body and closed her eyes, reminiscing about her early years as Illi Fergusson, and her eccentric family.

        ~~~

        When Illi was a young child she rarely saw her parents, the eccentric Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson and his charmingly batty second wife, Floribunda Chaiise-Loriket. Illi stayed at home in the anscestral country pile in Dorset, Rubbingdon Hall, with Nanny Chraddock while her parents travelled the world in search of giant bones and artifacts. Their travels took them far and wide, from the jungles of South America to the deserts of North Africa; from the mountains of Spain to the arid eternity of the Australian outback.

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

        #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.

        #79
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          These are excerpts from Yuki’s diary, explaining some of the details of the experiment called — Malvina’s story —.

          Note: for the reader not familiar with all the names here is a quick reminder:

          • Araili > Yann, Írtak, Sam, Jacob …
          • Armelle > Fiona, Arona, Tina, Qixi …
          • Rafaela > Dory, Illi, Becky, Rodney …
          • Yuki > Quintin, Al, Janice …

          September 12 th, 2007

          Today, an experiment has been launched by Quintin. Time will tell if it will bear some fruit, but the idea sounds good.
          Having people join in a story telling, and see what happens, what are the “lessons” one can draw from this…

          Armelle, Rafaela and Araili are already on the starting-blocks, though Quintin is not quite aware yet.

          I can hear some thoughts: Let’s say for the moment that there are no rules. We will see what prompts the desire for having rules…

          September 13 th

          Some of the people familiar with Janice and her friends’ adventures have already joined in with much enthusiasm.
          This first comment seems very promising.

          Right now, it feels easy and fun.

          Quintin seems to think that everything is very straightforward.
          The magical world with the cave in one part, separated from the “real” world. (Two Worlds, and he thinks that will be enough to content Rafaela, ahaha, how presumptuous)
          The first he sees as a representation of what psychologists think of as “subconscious”, and the other being the conscious, physical part.

          But of course, he thinks he knows better than that. He calls the first one “subjective” rather than subconscious, because it’s a translation of subjects which unfold in many related objects in the “objective” or physical world.
          That’s a good point, though a bit distorted. It would be better to say Malvina’s World is a translation of the subjective, in the manner of a Heroic Dimension.
          But the thing is, that he missed the point in thinking one World is more “real” than the other.
          We’ll be having some fun soon…

          First remark… The second comment of the story has been interrupted abruptly in the middle of a sentence. That is interesting. We will urge Quintin to leave it as it is, despite his feeling of it being awkward.
          We will appeal to his imagination.
          It seems he has heard the suggestion.

          September 14 th

          For the most part, the story starts to get much involvement. Lots of energies are being projected into it, and with every adjunct, each participant’s perception stretches to accommodate the changes and smooth out the bumps in their own sense of continuity.

          But as I expected, some challenges seem to appear already.
          Is it raining or not in that world?
          The question seems simple, but it is very profound and Fiona seems to struggle a bit with it, as is Quintin. The question frame itself [“that World”] shows where the difficulty lies.

          He seems to avoid the discrepancy and pretend that he has not seen it. Mmmm, avoiding the obstacles… that will very soon come right back in front of you dear Quintin, for Dory is quite playful.
          At least Fiona has been challenging Dory for not paying attention… Armelle’s ineffable loving ruthlessness!
          How will it unfold?
          Rafaela seems to be delighting herself as though she’s preparing some mischief, but Dory struggles in the “back”…

          September 15 th

          Dory is indeed very playful and her imagination is unrestrained. I extend much appreciation to this focus of Rafaela, especially as Quintin has to stretch his imagination to make things “fit”.

          Quintin is still avoiding the issues that appear sporadically and prefers to stay focused on his own perception of the story… Careful Quintin :face-smile:

          Yann joins the fun —objectively, that is, for Araili has been present already since the very beginning.

          September 16 th

          Halcyons days…
          My dear friend Archie is answering some of Quintin and Yann’s questions.
          Something starts to dawn on Quintin. But his mind is on other matters.

          He understands that the energies of the writers are melding in writing the story, but he still tends to think that they blend completely.

          September 18 th

          Quintin has been drawing some of the characters of the story. It’s interesting.
          He had good insights, as Yann will tell him later that his clothes today were exactly the same as the colours he had drawn.

          Characters drawn:

          • Mavina, Leörmn the dragon and weaszchilla, Írtak, Huÿgens (and Fjutch), Arona and Illi (the gripshawk)
          • Malika, Quintin, Yann, Fiona and Dory

          Interestingly, Fiona resolves her issues in her cave.
          Dory too, but she did not need the cave to do this.

          September 21 st

          For Quintin, the story seems to lose all common sense, as some characters move from World to World. You could have expected that Quintin!
          And Dory pops in and out, in her mind, in her dream state, or in future timeline mixed with present or past one.
          Quintin will soon realize that he himself is doing this constantly, though he does not register it.

          But the worst thing for him is that there are bleedthroughs in between Worlds. The Reality Times newspaper was brilliant Rafaela, a perfect trigger for the beliefs that the Worlds are closed and impermeable to each other!

          Archie has been answering new questions about that story and this had been quite interesting for all of the participants.
          There is much for them to digest from the realization that each of them had been creating their own versions of the stories through their perceptions. And that they were each having their version of the story, drawing from each other’s input, like a conductor of an orchestra incorporating some instruments.

          Of course, some things still matter, and one of the point of the story is also to discover these.

          September 22 nd

          Quintin has been drawing new characters.

          Characters drawn:

          • Båd Al’Guz (Bådul), BelleDora, Buckberry the dragon, the twin dragon eggs, Archibald the parrot, Sanso the Wanderer
          • Illi Fergusson, another Illi that Quintin has tried to sneak in as a bait for Dory, with hints that she is disengaged (or “dead” in common vernacular) and merges with others of her focuses…
          • Jacqueline Bleomelen (Nanny Gibbon), Lord Wrick, his great grand children the twins Cuthbert and India Louise, Manfred, William P. Jobsworth the painter

          A new perception trick: Dory felt relieved upon seeing the moth feelers of BelleDora.
          She had at first thought they were whiskers, which was not Quintin’s intent…

          September 23 rd

          Quintin seems to have connected to a map drawn by Lord Wrick, when the old Lord has started to document his great grand children travels.

          Quintin had tried to put some annotations on this fragment, but he doesn’t yet completely understand that his perception of this World, though accurate, is only valid in this present moment, and may change at any time.

          Up to now, here are the names he could find:

          • North: the Icy Lands, and Dragon Cemeteries
          • Center: Goldfindely, homeland of Arona, connected to the Warring Kingdoms of Lan’ork by the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer. The Isthmus of the Dragon Head seems to lead to Malvina’s cave and hideout. Mount Elok’ram is pointed as the highest place of the World yet discovered. Three main rivers are drawn: in the ancient myths of the people of this land, they represent the three Daughters of Ghört, weavers of men’s destinies: Tibreÿa, Uleÿa, and Snimeÿa. Snimeÿa cuts the thread of life, which is shown as the river leads after many meanders to the Marshes of Doom.
          • Far East, North: the Land of Båd Al’Guz, Åsgurdy. A harsh mountainous land of islands and seas.
            Both parts of the World seem to ignore each other till now, as they are separated by the Great Rift, which in the past has deterred many intrepid navigators.
          • South: the Desert Lands. Illi’s birthplace, rarely explored by humans thus unaware of most of its marvels, gripshawks nomadic tribes included.

          When he discussed Arona’s village with Fiona, Quintin had the vision of some dolphin-like creatures, but bright yellow. They are called golfindels and are mostly seen on the northern shores of Arona’s homeland, which is thus called Golfindely.

          #230

          Illi had not known as powerful an opponent as this other Illi.

          At first, she had been remembered of stories of possession by evil sprites (or djinns) that she had heard in her youth, when Ibn al’ Gruk, the old angora storyteller was entertaining the desert settlement beating the rhythm with sonorous drums.

          So, she had pushed, and rebelled, and fought, as fiercely as any other gripshawk skilled and trained in the hand-to-hand martial arts would have done.

          But the other Illi wasn’t so easily vanquished.

          Then Illi had collapsed. She had sorrowfully abandoned the fight to the dreaded adversary.

          All of this had been occurring in a twinkle of an eye, but for Illi, the fight had been during ages and ages, while she was trying to focus on what BelleDora was explaining to her about the land where she was now.

          And when she had abandoned the fight, everything was again so easy. She did not care any longer, she was free again. Her evil twin could do anything, it could not matter less.

          But the evil twin had been in fact doing the same, and she had struggled to keep the focus coherent to her. Didn’t want stupid moth-looking people in her reality, or even spare hair on her face! But that other one was strong, and fierce. And stubborned too!

          — Who are you? she finally had asked
          — I’m Illi, had the other answered
          — I am Illi.
          — So we are both Illi
          — Yeah, that may be it, but we are quite different.
          — Are we? You feel quite like me, despite your stupid affection for smooth baby face.
          — Well, wouldn’t it be for that, I can see some resemblance…
          — Will you let me continue my trip?
          — Oh, I would have, but you’ve hijacked mine, said Illi Fergusson.
          — So you think.
          — And where does your trip leads to? asked Illi F. who wasn’t too sure of her trip either
          — From traveling portals to traveling portals, to discover all that can be discovered on this world. Magical creatures, I distrust them, but the lands and people are fascinating… And what about yours?
          — Hmm, hmm, pondered Illi F. for a moment… Well, I’m dead actually, but I didn’t expect being dead to be so busy. There are so many things to discover, and I like that. I see funny looking people, and this looks like fun. Like a minute ago, I was in some kind of funny cave, with a parrot…
          — A what?
          — A parrot, you know, a kind of talking bird full of colours…
          — Mmm, some kind of demonic creature for sure. Would have slain it without an hesitation!
          — Hey! You see, that’s why I didn’t want you to come with me.
          — Well, seems like for a moment, we don’t have much more choice…
          — At least, look at the bright side, with us merged like that, each of us can provide the other one with some sound experience on each other’s worlds.
          — Well, that’s not as airy-fairy as it seems…
          — Well, thank you for that, I’ll take that as a compliment.
          — You really are dreadfully serious at times!
          — Hey, I’m not anybody you see. My parents were aristocrats, I’m not the common hairy lot.
          — Ahahah, you’re funny.
          — So are you!

          And they ended laughing blissfully together.

          After a moment, Illi asked again:

          — Huh, a funny cave you said?
          — Well, yes. With lots of people…
          — Interesting… I was near some sort of strange cave too a while ago, that is, before I was found by this nice man and his dogs. Perhaps there is some connection here.
          — And could you go there again?
          — Not sure if I want to; there were some smelly fumes, smelt like demonic magic in there.
          — Oh you see, for as long as I’ve been dead, well even if that’s not so long ago, anyway, the point is I’ve not seen any demon so far… blustered Illi F.
          — Oh, and I have to take your word like that then?
          — Well, do as you please, but I’m going there again…
          — Just wait for me now, will you; let’s try to do things hand in hand, because you’re driving me mad!

          And the deal was made.

          BelleDora had continued to explain lots of things about her ancestors, but had not really noticed Illi’s attention had been so far away. She was a bit surprised when she found herself interrupted in a middle of a poetic depiction of the coastal plains of the Peninsula of the Dragon Head, where some glistening Capricorns were sometimes seen swimming in the creeks.

          — And how do I get back safely to this hole where I was found? asked Illi abruptly.

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