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  • #1521

    In reply to: Synchronicity

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Another funny sync about last comment (the one with Janice and Rodney, adapted from a chat session with Tracy).

      The dream that Janice recalls is one I made this morning, I had not thought about that cabbage sync yet.
      And at the moment I read about the Wildes that Illi’s family knew, I have Jib’s SMS’ing me that he was in Père Lachaise…

      Funney :face-surprise:

      #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.

      #294

      Illi was beginning to really appreciate being dead and the freedom it provided to create whatever she wished at a moments notice. She’d enjoyed being a shape shifter while she was alive, often changing into a rather odd cat-like creature which was one of her favourites. She’d had tremendous fun over the years, confounding people with that one! Is it a cat? Is it a person? Is it a goat? A mongoose? hahaha what fun she’d had!

      Illi surveyed the long glittering white beach on her paradise island. There must be a million billion grains of sand here. I think I will conjure up some sand sculptures, fill the beach with fantastic magical creatures….

      Illi picked up a bambu cane to use as a magic wand ~ not that she needed a wand in order to perform magic, but she rather liked waving a stick around.

      Abracadabra the magic palabra, fairies and goblins and sprites!

      In an instant the beach was full of sand sprites, a veritable sea of impish little figures as far as the eye could see.

      HHHMM, though Illi, they are all so small, I’d like something big I think, for contrast and added dimension.

      Abracadabra the magic palabra, centaurs and unicorns and giants!

      Lordy, the giants had flattened whole tribes of sand gnomes. A few less giants, I think! Illi waved her magic wand of cane again, and disappeared all but one of the giants. RaFa the Giant, you may stay on my beach, Illi graciously declared to a kindly looking character of monstrous proportions who had considerately appeared at the very end of the beach so as not to flatten the sand sprites.

      On impulse, Illi found herself chanting the spell again…Abracadabra the magic palabra, DRAGONS appear on my beach!

      Four splendid sand dragons appeared in the shallows of the lagoon, sensuously sepentine in appearance, and sparkling in the tropical sun.

      #290
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Well, I’m sorry to have to tell you Becky Pooh, but your script is getting awfully confusing… Al was saying swaying his head in dismay.
        — What?! Becky nearly spluttered her cappuccino on Tina who was munching marshmallows at the cafeteria of the rehearsal room.
        — Yes, you see… Al was once again lost in his thoughts… This Illi is driving me crazy, once she’s here, then she’s elsewhere. At one moment you said she was dead, and I went to great extents to try to clarify…
        — Muddle, interrupted Becky Pooh, Muddle…
        — … the whole thing, Al continued imperturbably, and made clear, or so I thought, that the Illi cat was alive, and the Illi human was indeed dead, but now Tina makes the Illi in the dream of little Chiara the cat again… Could you both explain what happens. I’m completely lost.
        AHAHAH, LOST! cried Becky so insanely, so that all of the others looked at her with eyes wide as saucers.
        — Well, there could be lots of explanations of course, interjected Sam, whose energy was always soothing to incorporate in the midst of heated discussions on the reality play they were all writing.
        — Yes, of course there are! It all makes perfect sense, said Becky.
        — Oh sure, said Tina, except that you don’t really make Illi do anything…
        — Do I?
        — Well, they were near the cave, but you won’t face the scaly stinky dragons anyway, said Al a bit disappointed.
        — Why can’t you imagine them all fluffy and pink if it’s easier for you? said Sam. Like Chinese dragons, why not? A bit dog-headed, wouldn’t that be easier for you?
        — Mmmm. Becky was pondering.

        — And what were your suggestions to explain that insane dream? asked Al to Sam.
        — Mmm, let me see… Perhaps it’s from another timeline. No one has said when that dream has occurred, so it may be before, or after the events happening right now.
        — And for the cat seen by Chiara, said Tina gently, that could just be her seeing the essence of Illi, and seeing other of her personalities…
        — Well, seems to make sense… acknowledged Al and Sam, all turning to Becky to see if she agreed.

        #289

        The arrival of the noisy pink fairy was the last straw for Illi. She imagined her deserted island again and made sure she paid attention to imagining it completely deserted this time. No more fat nuns appearing from the heavens or squalking fairies!

        Illi made the new island a paradise….she magicked up staff when she wanted food or a massage, a gaggle of party people for when she felt like dancing, and blithely disappeared them when she was done. Mostly Illi slept. Her favourite spot was near the lagoon on the sand under the coconut trees. She lay and dozed and drifted and dreamed and imagined and dozed some more, trailing her fingers through the sand, pushing little heaps of sand here and there, pulling them back, making channels and watching the sand sift back in and disappear them. She dreamed of sand sculptures, an astonishing variety and all made from…sand! Tiny grains of sand, made into anything at all…..every tiny grain of conscious energy…made into anything at all…..and in comes the tide and washes and ripples a clean new beach….to make anything at all……

        #85
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Eric! Your latest comment resembles more than a little the episode of Lost I saw on tv last night. I take it you didn’t watch it too haha…..
          In a nutshell, an exhausted bird on the shore next to the sea that had separated from the other birds (which were scared off by a loud gunshot nearby)…..the guy intuitively knew exactly where to go to find it (he can see future probabilities, incidentally) and he picked the bird up…the point of which was to tie a message to the tagged bird in the hopes of being rescued off the desert island (which is not unlike the one Roselyn Chiara and Illi are ‘currently’ on….)…
          In other words, a ‘talking’ bird….
          OH and the bird in Lost was ‘from other lands’ too, a tagged migrating bird….

          #285

          Chiara got quite a fright and spun round quickly. She stood gazing at the funny cat creature who had shouted BOUH at her, momentarily uncertain as to whether to burst into laughter or tears.

          Illi watched Chiara’s trembling lip with some concern, especially when she saw the very large creature who was with her. Illi felt it may be prudent to make a hasty retreat, however, before she could make her getaway, a rather loud voice shouted out from behind a gigantic pebble:

          I WISH YOU WOULD ALL GO AWAY

          And a tiny figure emerged. A very small and rather rumpled looking pink fairy, with a grumpy expression on her pretty face.

          I SAID I WISH YOU WOULD ALL GO AWAY, she shouted again, this time stamping her foot angrily and glaring at the assembled trio.

          Is that really what you want dear? Asked Roselyn. Because we can go away if you like.

          At which the little little pink fairy burst into loud sobbing noises and threw herself on the ground.

          Oh dear, said Roselyn whatever is the matter?

          #282

          — The legend of Mævel — (Part I)

          as told by Cpt Bone to young Tomkin

          In the time of the Gods, the King of the Fairies, Aldurion, fell in love with a beautiful mortal named Theÿa.
          He wanted to make her his Queen but only the Elder Gods could bestow the gift of immortality upon mortals.
          So he went to see Ghört, the God of the Airs. Ghört could certainly grant him what he requested, but for that, Theÿa would have to be transformed into an air sprite. Aldurion wouldn’t be able to hold her again. So he declined the offer, and went to see another Elder God.
          Then, he went to see Nærvel, the Goddess of the Waters. But Nærvel could grant him immortality if Theÿa was to be transformed into a water sprite. So Aldurion declined again.
          Then he went to see Agnima, the Goddess of the Flames, and then Selvaniel the God of the Woods, and Margilonia the Goddess of the Earths. But all of their conditions were the same, Theÿa would have to be transformed into an immaterial and immortal elemental fairy. But Aldurion couldn’t bear to have her changed into something else than she was.

          Then, only one of the Elder Gods was left, the one than few of the Immortals dared talk to, and of whom most mortals were afraid, to the point of systematically using the Old Speech respectful form of address (“Shaint”), when referring to him.
          So Aldurion came to see Lejüs, God of the Forgotten.
          Lejüs was greatly pleased to see him. When Aldurion had finished exposing his request, Lejüs took a moment to ponder. Giving immortality was none of his wonts, as he was keeper of the Forgotten. But he was not without compassion, and seeing Aldurion’s plight, he offered to grant his wish at the condition that, not his wife, but their first born child, would become Forgotten.
          Aldurion was so hopeful that all he saw was that the condition seemed so small, based on a future event that perhaps wouldn’t even happen… All he wanted was to have Theÿa as a Queen, and so the deal was made.

          So became Theÿa Queen of the Fairies.

          A few God’s Years later, which meant in human years much more than a few years, Theÿa became pregnant.
          When she announced the news to Aldurion, he was suddenly reminded of the deal he had made with Lejüs, and was quite distraught, as he had not revealed it to Theÿa. But he remained quiet, hoping that Lejüs would have forgotten about the whole story (well, that was forgetting he was Keeper of the Forgotten).
          So Theÿa gave birth to a little baby girl fairy, with golden wavy hair and bright eyes. She, like her mother, had no wings, but there was magic in her. They named her Araoni.

          But Lejüs had not forgotten of course, and came to see the Royal couple to claim the baby. Aldurion pretended that the mother and baby was still very weak, and he would have to come back in a few God’s Days. Lejüs agreed, and left complaisantly.

          Aldurion was at a loss for solutions, but Theÿa was a fairy with lots of ruse, so he decided to reveal it all to her, hoping that she would have a solution.
          Theÿa asked him time to think about this, and told him not to worry.
          Later, she had an idea, quite brilliant she thought. All she had to do was to find another child to give Lejüs.
          So she gave baby Araoni to one of her diligent nurse, the old fairy Gretchÿa, telling her to find a house were a blond new born girl could be exchanged and proceed to the exchange of the babies.

          So Gretchÿa went across the lands of the Worlds, but only in one home she could find a blond baby girl. The new-born baby girl was almost dying, as the parents were a careless couple of peasants, already plagued with many children, and they could not bother with children hesitating to live.
          Gretchÿa was heart-broken when she did the exchange, promising to baby Araoni to get her back soon. The young human baby girl was weak and yet unnamed, and the old fairy nurse knew she would probably not live long, and be claimed by Shaint Lejüs. So all was good.

          When Lejüs came back, he smiled as he saw the baby girl, and left with her without much more words for the Royal couple.
          Lejüs smiled, for when he had taken the young baby, the parents had instantly forgotten about her, and so did everyone having ever known her…

          The human parents, surprised to see the condition of their baby improving beyond all hope, named her Mævel, which meant marvel of Maÿ the month in which she was born.

          #279

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

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

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

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

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

          BOUH! :yahoo_skull:

          #1469
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            hahahah! Well I searched Illi and got every William and brilliant too!:notepad: :yahoo_heehee:

            #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.

              #273

              On the shores of Golfindely, a young boy was playing in the carmine fields of ripe Scotch bonnets.

              Since the captain Bone had left, Tomkin Sharple was feeling a bit sad.

              The old captain always had fascinating stories to tell him, and he would indulge the endlessly curious little boy in telling him for hours all about what he had discovered in all the parts of the Worlds he had been traveling to.

              Now, all he had to do was to take care of the herd of grakes of his parents, and while they were eating the weeds of the crops, he would sat on the cliff, looking at the sea, glimmering in the sunlight.

              Grakes were funny to play with, as they were big birds, with a slender neck as geese, colourful patterns as mandarin ducks, and Tomkin always had fun jumping on the back of the alpha one, and ride it, leading the whole herd to the crops where they helped the farmers by eating all kinds of nuisances.

              But after Captain Bone’s departure, it was no longer fun.

              Tomkin was contemplating a strange thing that the captain had given him before he’d left. It was a sort of knot, shaped as a eight, and the captain had told him it was magic and meant that all was connected, but that he had to discover that magic for himself.

              Tomkin had asked the captain to tell him about this object, but all he had told him was a legend which did not reveal much about the circumstances in which the old sea dog had acquired it. Perhaps the captain had fooled him about the magic…

              Stuffing the thing again in his pocket, Tomkin let his mind wander on the sea waves, dreaming of being a cabin boy on a big boat, when he saw something on the horizon.

              At first he thought that it was a group of swimming golfindels, but golfindels were more brilliant and smaller than the shapes he was seeing, and moving less heavily too…

              #246

              Huÿgens was not much of a cat person.

              He liked his dogs because they were solid, loyal companions, and he could count on them to take care of his herd of langoats.

              Langoats were a kind of three-eyed manic woolly and horned creatures, with a big sensing tongue, attracted to every new sound, or scent, or colour, or texture… well almost anything new that came before their eyes (when said eyes were not covered by thick layers of wool that is). And as their memory was short too, all kinds of things were always new to them.

              That was why the dogs were extremely useful in channeling their movements; not that the langoats would have hurt themselves, because they were very able to provide for themselves, and jump from the top of a cliff without suffering much injuries. But they could very well loose all notion of their physicality and pop in and out of the fabric of time and space.

              When they came back, because they always did magically come back, even after months of wandering, they would at times be reconfigured into another creature, and that would be pointless applying too much effort in trying to bring them back to their previous form, because it was said, in relation to their stubbornness that once a langoat, always a langoat

              Huÿgens had already lost some, especially during the shearing season.

              And he had found himself back once with a cumbersome hippoliphant, and a bouncy shulimeek instead of two langoats.

              Anyway, langoats wool was a very precious asset, highly sought after, as it could very easily bind with magical spells. Most of the clothes made for royalties were actually made with langoat wool, and it was also said that some enchanters had used langoat wool to make magical tapestries that would shapeshift, and reveal things to their owners.

              So losing a langoat was not small concern for Huÿgens, and he had to be careful during the shearing season to leave some mops of hair to cover the three eyes of the beasts, so as to curb their insatiable thirst for discoveries.

              But these days, Huÿgens had been very concerned about his herding dog Fjutch. Fjutch was a fluffy black dog he had found when it was still a puppy. He had trained it to become the head of his pack of dogs, when he had noticed the old rheumatic Thöm was taking the puppy under its wing —because the old faithful dog was knowing that it would depart and would reconfigure into a new form, but would not allow that to happen, not before he could have found a reliable companionship for his beloved master Huÿgens.

              The healing properties of the langoat milk seemed to had done wonders once again, and Fjutch dis-ease was probably just a false alarm, but it had reminded Huÿgens how much he appreciated his dogs, every one of them, every day he was with them.

              As for the cats… Illi, that was her name, had decided to come back to the cave, and he was showing her the way to the place where he had found her. He had asked BelleDora to pack a few things for her. He could not give Illi the beverage she was referring to as “coffee”, as that plant was not found in their region, but in compensation, he gave her a gourd of langoat milk, because she seemed like she would probably need some.

              When he left her near the hole, he had some tears in his eyes when Illi hugged Fjutch very tenderly, as if the dog was reminding her of something dear. Illi after a moment hesitation, where she was like speaking to herself and not knowing what to do, finally hugged Huÿgens too, thanking him for everything he had done.

              And off she was… free and unfettered as a gripshawk

              ***

              When Illi had finished arguing with Illi about having her hug the big man, while this was not manners of her kind, she sighed as she saw that the opening she had first thought was here (yeah, because I fell in there! she said), her senses where telling her that it was now closed…

              How quaint said Illi for herself.
              — Well, as a matter of fact, it reminds me of something, said Illi F. There was that delicious gentleman, John Lubbock who said “What we see depends mainly on what we look for” and somehow it seems perfect.
              — I don’t know any Grubbeck, grumbled Illi, a bit irritated that the hole, which was there before, wouldn’t be here, now she needed it.
              — Lubbock was such a nice person, said Illi dreamily… Perhaps I could just try to have a peek inside the cave, if you let me.
              — What?! Do again your wizzy wooey thing and I’ll strangle you! Don’t know how I would do it, but I’ll do it!
              — Oh, you are so sluggishly gloomy! That was just to help you…
              — Mmm, sorry for that, I was a bit upset, said Illi. What could you do?
              — Just focus on the inside, and carry us both inside… But actually you would have to leave your body here, and we’ll probably see other things that do not belong to this place, but heck! that should be fun, Illi F said grinning widely.

              They were interrupted by some munching sounds and ruffling heavy breath.

              — What the bejeezus is that?! hissed Illi the cat (who didn’t even know how she knew so funny sounding words as bejeezus)
              — Can’t you see? That’s obviously a dragon eating some bushes… How strange… replied Illi F airily.
              — A WHAT? I HATE DRAGONS!
              — Ahahah, relax, I was just pulling your leg.
              — That’s not funny.
              — Well he has funny colours by the way. Pinkish purple I wouldn’t dare to wear in London streets.
              — That’s REALLY NOT FUNNY!
              — Why so? You can’t see it anyway…
              — And what if he sees me? Dragons are vicious creatures.
              — He’s too busy eating these funny berries, and will probably collapse of exhaustion once he’s full.
              — A chance! A vegetarian dragon!
              — OK. Shall we try to find an entrance in the cave with my method, or do we ask the dragon? He looks well-mannered by the way.
              — Oh, by the eyeballs of the Mighty Shrimp, you tell me…
              — No, you choose.
              — No, you.
              — You…
              — Ooooh, bugger off…

              #243
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                William Percival Jobsworth, or “Bill” for short, was finding the old creaking manor as freaky as their owners.

                The Wrick family was known around for being shrouded in mystery, and few people had actually been invited inside the manor, after its acquisition by Lord Wrick.

                The manor itself was full of ghost stories, as every mansion worth its salt in that part of the country. But this one has been a wreck on which he would not have invested two pence of his money, after it had been abandoned for many decades after the sudden death of the previous owner, the Crazy Baron.

                But Lord Wrick was an eccentric, and had bought the manor and restored it to its previous grandeur.

                It had been thrice now that Bill had come to the manor to paint the family portraits. The first time he had also delivered that strange parcel, given to him by that strange lady. Looking straight into his eyes, she had also told him something that had lingered in his mind quite vividly.

                « Suffering is not good for the soul, unless it teaches you to stop suffering. »

                He couldn’t see exactly why it applied to him, but the lady had seemed so authoritative about that, that he had agreed and felt like thanking her.

                The parcel had come a bit unexpected to the Lord, though he was quite artful in hiding his emotions, Bill could say. He had questioned him about the lady, but Bill had not dared to share with him the thing about the suffering. Actually the Lord looked in pretty good shape considering the age he was likely to be. He pretended to be a bit incapacitated, but Bill would have bet that if he had fallen from a window, he would have landed on his feet as a cat.

                Speaking of which, their old cat with its worn-out blackish fur was a bit freaky too. Bill had felt at times he could hear it answer the Lord’s gibberish.

                But all in all, that was easy money, and he thanked the opportunity to be able to do these paintings while the winter was coming.

                Now was something else. He almost startled when he was opened the big entrance door, to be revealed an improbable shape, two or three heads taller than him. It took him a short while to recognize the smile of the children’s nurse, topped by a funny hat that made him laugh heartily, after the initial shock was dissipated.

                Hahaha, sorry, that was unexpected… he managed to say to Jacqueline, who was not unaccustomed to these odd kinds of reactions.

                Not to worry she said with a slight French accent. Monsieur and Madame Wrick have come back from their trip to Mogadishu, and you will be able to have their portraits done. They will stay here for a few weeks…

                Linda and Peregrine Wrick were Cuthbert and India Louise proud (and a bit insouciant) parents, Lord Wrick had explained without much more details. Peregrine was the son of Lord Wrick’s only son, Sean Doran Wrick, but Bill had felt some restrain to ask about Sean Doran, as the Lord had seemed a bit umbrageous only speaking his name.

                Oh… said Bill who did not expect them to come back so quickly.

                Appendix: The Wrick family tree

                #242
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  So the lady whispered the answer to the riddle of the hand into Arona’s ear.

                  Oh brilliant, thank you so much, said Arona, hugging her. Her hand felt so much better already.

                  ***

                  No longer fearful, Arona looked into the glass ball. The coloured sand was shifting. Shapes were forming. At first they appeared to be random and rather vague, just movements without any clear form. After a little while Arona went into a trance like state, and she could feel energy flowing through her body. She noticed that she was able to influence the movement of the sand with her thoughts.

                  She stared at the sand for so long that she felt the edges of herself to be blurry. She had strange thoughts that she was a grain of sand herself and that she was being influenced to influence the sand. It was all quite surreal actually, but fun too, so did it really matter?

                  #238

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                  #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.

                  #227

                  Jibberacky is…

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

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

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

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

                  _

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

                  _

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

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

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

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

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

                  #224

                  Grandad! Grandad!, called India Louise to Lord Wrick, running in the old manor, her footstep making creaking and loud noises down the windy staircase.

                  Hilarion Wrick was seated in his favourite armchair, dozing after the hefty meal prepared by Nanny Gibbon, the cat Manfred on his lap.

                  Raising an eyelid, his cheerful wrinkled face smiled at the little girl.

                  — And how can I be of assistance, dear little one?

                  — Grandad, this book is full of wonders, but at times it’s like some characters have their own life, and I don’t always understand what they do… In fact, she added thoughtfully, I don’t understand them most of the time…
                  — Hahaha, laughed the old Lord, but they have certainly their own lives, as they are living in your imagination. What can I explain to you?
                  — Well, let me think.

                  India Louise took a moment, and asked again

                  — For instance, this woman who just run in the cave, she seems to meet many people here, but I am confused. Is she dreaming, or are they real?
                  — Well, as a matter of fact, let me express to you that they are all real, even if you think that she dreams them. However, I am understanding of what you are saying, and I shall acknowledge your perspicacity. These characters are not all from the same areas of consciousness.

                  Here, we will explain for the reader that these books were not unknown to Lord Wrick who had spent lots of time during his youth playing with them. How they were lost and found again is the subject of another story, and we will not divert the reader’s patient attention for much longer on this issue.

                  — Areas of consciousness?

                  — Yes, you see, let me explain. That individual that you call Dory, she is in a physical world. But she is aware, to an extent, of other realities that overlap her own reality. Just as her story overlaps your own reality my dear one.

                  — And Illi? Who is she?
                  — This one is also Dory, but another personality of her, in another time. She has just passed away, quite recently. She is beginning to slowly become aware of that, and she connects with other of her personalities, and at times blends with them, like the other Illi, the cat-like creature, who is still in the physical reality of Malvina’s world.
                  — Mmmm, this is quite intricate…
                  — Hahahaha, yes, it seems so, but it will not be so puzzling when you don’t try to attach your current limited perception to this story. This story is you my dear. You are the story.
                  — Well, and Sanso, and Georges then, are they dead or what? How come Dory can see them?
                  — These ones are special, they have mastered the crossing of the Worlds, and can move through them. They move differently though. Sanso comes from a lineage of an ancient tribe of Zion, and had learn from them how to activate some portals, but only through the physical world of Dory, in their own time. He is not yet aware that he can also move through time as well, or even through other Worlds —worlds that he has no conception of yet.

                  Georges is more consummate in that art. Their meeting is not coincidental. You will see that.

                  — Thank you Grandad, it’s becoming a bit less confusing.
                  — Just flow with the story my little one, don’t hold on too much, or you will find it too difficult, and you will stop to find fun in it.

                  #222

                  Dory was in fact only seeing one parrot: it was a bit exhausted and its head seemed like it had a toothache… but it had no tooth.

                  “Hum.”

                  Dory was startled by the masculine voice. She hadn’t heard any sound from someone coming or felt any breeze indicating movement. As she turned her look at the man, she was even more startled by his face. A young face with bright amber eyes, and some funny tattoo on his forehead. She was unable to find any association with the shape which seemed to change in every moment. She was a bit hypnotized by it’s multi-dimensionality.

                  “hum” the man said again.

                  “Are you looking for something here?”

                  His voice was deep and warm, very reassuring and she wasn’t feeling alone now, the tunnel was indeed feeling very crowded, the presence of the man was awesome.

                  “Well it seems I’ve found you…” she said.

                  “Enchanté. My name is Georges.” he said, a smile illuminating his face.

                  “I just came out of the Faded Cabbage, a very nice tavern in Dalmot… I felt some dizzy portal appearing and felt the impulse to go through it, and here I am.”

                  It was all nonsense to Dory, except the cabbage part that reminded her of the coleslaw. Her belly was growling.

                  “Actually I’m quite hungry, and I’ve nothing to eat…”

                  “Oh” he said. He just looked in her eyes, making her feel more dizzy or blurred, she was feeling so out of her reality.

                  The smell of coleslaw was filling the tunnel…

                  “I have some… what do you call that ?”

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