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  • #287
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      India Louise and Eugenia momentarily forgot about the gold locket and walked over to the exceptionally long trunk. India dropped the locket into her pocket as she investigated the exterior of the trunk, which didn’t appear to have an opening. It seemed to have been made around whatever it housed, and permanently.

      ‘How strange’, mused India, ‘it must not be intended to open, ever!’

      ‘That makes me want to open it’, said Eugenia. ‘Let’s! Let’s open it!’

      Eugenia was rummaging in the desk drawers for a suitable tool.

      ‘Wow, look at this, Indy’. She held a heavy black letter opener up to show India, with an elaborate carved dragon on the handle. The dragon had glittering amethyst eyes, and a serpentine line of coloured stones along its back.

      India shivered involuntarily at the sight of the dragon. Horrid nasty creatures, dragons, she muttered, resisting an urge to cross herself. ‘Peace be with you, now bugger off’ she whispered the spell under her breath so Eugenia wouldn’t hear her and think she was a silly goose. Horrid scaley slimy stinky reptiles.

      ‘You go first, Genie, try and prise the trunk open.’ India didn’t want to touch the letter opener, but she was rather curious about the contents of the trunk.

      Eugenia was a strong and capable lass, with a practical methodical mind ~ unlike India Louise ~ and before long the first piece of wood came splintering off.

      ‘Nice one, Genie, well done.’ India said as Eugenia wrenched off another few planks.

      ‘Oh MY GOD!’ ‘Jumping Jehosophat!’ ‘What the……’ ‘Holy Moly, Genie, what the….’. After a few initial exclamations, the girls were silent, the hair standing up on their arms.

      They were looking down at the shrivelled features of a dried up body, covered in bits of disintegrating faded fabric.

      ‘A mummy! It’s a friggen mummy!’

      #257

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

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

      :fleuron:

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

      Tina was taken aback…

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

      :fleuron:

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

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

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

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

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

      Wow he had thought, she can really see.

      :fleuron:

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

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

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

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

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

      :fleuron:

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

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

      :fleuron:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

      #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

        #188

        This morning, Fiona and Quintin had a small impromptu chat —or rather, prompted by the story they were all weaving, that Archie, the puppet black panther, had been telling them last week-end that it was a magic connection between all of them…

        Quintin: Your story was great!

        Fiona: Thank you :) So was yours.

        Have you written any more since I last looked at the story?

        Quintin: no, I’m not that much inspired… I even considered to wrap in up in a way, but seeing you were all drawing so much from it, I think I will leave it open ever after…

        Fiona: no, wrap it up if you feel.

        I have drawn what I wanted. I will go and blow up the cave if we don’t finish it :)

        Quintin: Ahahaha! Don’t restrict yourself ;)

        Fiona: When you started the Malvina story, did you have an idea where it would go, or did you pick that one because you had no idea?

        Quintin: This one nagged me because there were many people I felt behind it and I did not know how to get them to show up and make their presences known. And I felt that it was loose enough too, to allow people to jump into it; and there was your initial interest in the picture ;)

        Fiona: The endearing dragons…

        Quintin: Yeah…

        But I had strictly no idea about the rest. It was just a bet, on luck…

        That’s funny, because I had a strange impression of a little girl yesterday, in a futuristic city, named something like Janice , and it was like she knew now what she wanted to do, and it was something similar to that, something like creating worlds for other people, in which they could have fun, or heal, or explore things…

        Fiona: And did she have any impression of what form that could take? Like books, or games or what…

        Quintin: No, it was much more “real” in fact…

        Fiona: you know like the card-captor game which I suppose is interactive, so real

        Quintin: Yeah, perhaps a bit like that, yes; or like creating a ball of energy in which people can be drawn and experience as they will. It’s only a translation, but that’s the idea… in a way, that’s very similar to a game or a book, but only that it just feels totally “real”

        Fiona: So a little bit like I have done with the story, to resolve something

        Quintin: yeah, exactly, or with your paintings

        Fiona: It can be really useful to take on other personas to do that, even like in drama type situations, being someone else…

        Quintin: Yeah, people can unleash their imagination.

        And I think there are still lots of things that we can expand in this universe in fact, not only related to the cave…

        Fiona: such as? eggsamples?

        Quintin: You said it! The eggs and relationships with dragons, all the magical artifacts or creatures. Didn’t you want a baby dragon?

        Fiona: Yeah, I told you I did, but you just said some riddle!

        Quintin: Did I? That’s not like me ;)

        Fiona: Ahahhaha! It is you to the core

        Quintin: LOL, damn me!

        Fiona: Well, that is a bit strong, but …

        Quintin: Ahahahahah. I said you would have to earn his trust? (or hers, for that matter)

        Fiona: I can’t remember the eggsact wording, I think I had to work for it though, like you weren’t just handing out dragons on a plate

        Quintin: It could bound with you very strongly and help you unravel your unknown magical powers. It’s not just a creature, it’s a complex personality, you cannot just take it like a puppy. There is a sharing between the two…

        Fiona: So are you going to allocate baby dragons to people or what? Or shall I just go and find an egg that no one knew was there :)

        Quintin: Ahahah, no, they will not be allocated, they will choose their own partners

        Fiona: Ahahaha, one minute you say it is my story! And now you are back in control

        Quintin: Ahahaha, the story has a willing of its own too…

        Try to do what you want, it’s not a matter of control ; it’s just you’ll know what clicks and what does not…

        Quintin: And actually, I don’t think everyone will be interested in dragons…

        Fiona: How does a dragon help one learn magic powers?

        Quintin: It’s just because there is an openness between the two; let me find something for you, that Elias (you know, Michaela’s partner), has told to me and Yann, when we had them on the phone last month.

        Elias : I would express to you that, as you focus your energies with each other, and you allow yourselves to merge and feel into each others’ energies, you may in actuality each discover some obstacles that the other may not necessarily be aware of yet, and you can share that with each other, and therefore facilitate your interactions even further.

        Fiona: And how having a baby dragon could help unleash our magic powers then?

        Quintin: It helps because it reinforces your trust in your own abilities to connect. It’s not directing, it’s a sharing and exploration for both of them; that’s why they are picky. As you would be picky too, knowing you would share together all the darkest corners…

        Fiona: I am not sure if i have dark corners ;)

        Quintin: it was a metaphor :D

        Fiona: ahahahhahahahahahah

        Fiona: I know, so was mine :D

        Quintin: ahahahahah

        Fiona: I was thinking I feel really accepting of myself

        Quintin: Yeah, that’s the point in the little adventure before you meet it.

        You have shown your trust in yourself and in your abilities, and your self-centeredness, which is essential, for the dragon doesn’t want a frail personality. Because he drops his defenses too when he shares and bonds.

        Fiona: Well I think it sounds scarey now, what if no dragon picked me…

        Quintin: There will be instant recognition. And you don’t “need” a dragon actually, that’s what is important: it’s a catalyst, nothing more, nothing less…

        Fiona: True.

        Quintin: Like Arona managed to sneak into the cave without giving the answer to the riddle (egg-sitingly) because it mattered not to her, whatever the outcome, she was directing of herself.

        Fiona: I felt like I have pictures now to assist me. I link strongly to pictures as a quick reference when I start to feel something like a negative emotion, for instance I may start to worry about how I am going to have enough money, or whatever, and I could quickly link to the spider picture

        Quintin: you mean, you create an imagery, right? That is something which I like in your stories and emails; even though it is not necessary to create imagery, it’s always so entertaining, like having these funny creatures pop in the cave!

        Fiona: Ahahahaha yes

        Quintin: And also, in creating imagery, it helps you seeing it in a more neutral way

        Fiona: I suppose it is just a quick trigger for the desired belief. I can link in quickly with the child, when I start to feel left out, for example.

        Quintin: yeah, beliefs as an alphabet or a palette, neutral, but that can create words and sentences or images. And the imagery of the child was very similar for me, to that of the playfulness picture

        Fiona: Yeah, I know… That’s what I said to you with the playfulness picture

        Quintin: Of course, you know :)

        Fiona: That I related most to the figure of blue hat… and big feet

        Quintin: Ahahaha, stomping on the poor key-fish

        Fiona: Nearly…

        Quintin: Have to go now, thank you for this enjoyable conversation

        Fiona: See you! :)

        #131

        Arona was lost. She had been lost for quite some time now and had got over the initial surprise this realisation had given her. It was not very often now that she questioned her decision to leave the others. She had tired of their endless journeying, always in circles, always moving and yet never seeming to move beyond the confines of the small village.

        One day she told them she was leaving. She wasn’t even sure if they heard her but still she set off, wearing her heavy black cape and carrying a small bag of her most treasured possessions.

        Arona had not been sure of the cape, it was so heavy, yet she feared the cold nights and loved the security of it’s warmth. It had been a gift from her parents, a long time ago, when she was just a child. Wear this cape and one day it will bring you happiness, her mother had said.

        Her mother said many odd things and had left on a journey of her own a many years ago, so Arona had never really been able to find out what she meant. Magically the cape had grown with her body, moulding itself to her.

        The worst of the winter cold was over now and Arona found the cape almost unbearably heavy at times, yet she could not quite bring herself to leave it behind. Sometimes she would take it off, relishing in the lightness and feeling the warmth of the sun on her body. She always put it back on though, just in case she needed it one day.

        Arona pulled out a well worn map from her bag. The map had been a gift from a travelling wizard who visited the village a few years ago. Arona had given him food and shelter and he repaid her kindness with the map. He seemed to think it was quite generous of him and Arona had thanked him politely. To be honest it was not really much use to her as she had no sense of direction, not even knowing which way north was, and not knowing where she was going anyway. She preferred just to follow whichever way seemed lightest at the time. But it was handy having the map because when she met others on the journey who asked her where she was going, she would wave her map at them. It made her look good, she thought, and saved her from too many questions.

        That day as she sat on a rock pretending to ponder her map she became aware of a faint sound of music in the distance. She had not heard music for such a long time. Once on her journey she had passed a wandering minstrel and begged him to play for her so that she could dance. In exchange she had lent him her cloak for a while to keep him warm.

        She felt the music beckoning her.

        :fleuron:

        Fiona loved Quintin’s drawings. They had a feel of magic and lightness and she was entranced by them. They were like the children’s films she had been watching lately, with many layers to them and touching something inside her mind, a distant memory which felt strangely close.

        Her own drawings felt heavy to her, and she had made a decision not to paint again unless she felt inspired. She did not really understand inspiration, only knew that she was tired of trying so hard.

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