-
Search Results
-
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
When Veranassessee entered the secret facility with Gloria and Sharon, her blood congealed in her veins.
Patient 4 had escaped the safety straitjacket and was holding the doctor at paper-clip point.
Patient 4, was one of the first six patients they’d treated on the island, an awful miscarriage… Of the six, all had developed strong reactions to the medication especially as they had not yet found the appropriate dosage for the blue spider venom. Some had developed extra appendices, most had been hideously disfigured, and all of them had gone bonkers.
“Four” was the last alive of them all, by an inexplicable combination of luck and genetics, and by far the most dangerous one. Apparently, apart from madness, the venom had gifted “Four” with supra-human velocity and strength. It was what had kept that mad doctor from “erasing” that mistake, so sure he could find some interesting way of making profit out of that prodigious lucky find.
But now that was compromising everything…V’ass pushed the two chatty old ladies in a broom-closet behind with a wink Be right back ladies!
Sharon and Gloria giggled in the small room, wondering about the unexpected sense of hospitality of the people of that resort. All was so funny and exciting since they’d decided to come to that place.
— Four! Release the doc’!
— Don’t move an inch closer or I’ll kill him!
— You have nowhere to go Four, backups will be here any minute now…
— One second is all I need to snap his neck!
— No! Dr. Chris Bronklehampton was moaning
— You, stay still, the mummified Four snapped to the panting doctor.Quicker than light, V’ass shot a powerful sedative into the arm of the mummy. Four winced, drawing the dart out of the arm, crushing the fluffy fletchings between the fingers. Quickly assessing chances to escape, Four sent the doctor flying at the other side of the room, in a powerful swing of the arm, and jumped through the window in a formidable sound of smashed glass, disappearing into the jungle.
— Chris! Are you alright? Nurse Bellamy was already caring for the fainted doctor.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Sam was feeling like a human being shaped balloon… not in rubber, but more in some waterproof material… with holes in his hands and his feet…
It was like him as essence was blowing the air into the puppet to give it more or less consistency, more or less presence.
At times his action would not be on the blowing into the bodily structure but on the looking of its canvas, its blueprint… the puppet would appear slack or flabby.
At times his action would be the blowing into the structure, and how he would insufflate the air into the structure, how he would direct it through the canvas would create different actions, different movements of this energy pattern, some wavy, some more rigid, and some pulsing.He currently felt he was trying to block the air from coming out of the puppet clothing… blocking the flow of the attention, of the energy into something absolute… he felt he was doing that to understand what he could create in doing it. It was not a continuous action and not something he wanted to make last much longer. Only the understanding of the movement of the air through his body was interesting him.
He just breathed in and out and decided to do something different. He had what he wanted of it now.
There was a click in his right ear, and he could feel his attention and his energy movement beginning to shift.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
A feeling of disappointment.
A feeling of hatred… Sam didn’t really know where it was coming from, but he was feeling it. It was a pooling of energies, not necessarily linked to anyone in particular. Like holding to old habits and old clothes though they needed to be changed.Sam decided to create something he hadn’t for quite some time. Some fever and reconfiguration of his digestive process.
For him, it was a way of expression through his body. It was not a dysfunction as it was expressing freely the energy. Nothing was to be feared or opposed.
He focused deeply on himself and began to feel this low vibrating sound in his belly. And his body began its shifting. Lucio was swimming with ease in the marble pool of the villa. His brother was speaking with the trees again and he had no interest in that himself. The water upon his body was offering enough interactions at that moment. In order to swim swiftly this morning he had reshaped his body to a slender and tall body. His short hair was moss green today and quite fitting in the sky blue water. A lemur was swimming alongside with him like it was challenging him in some way.
He felt his brother’s energy field expand and ripple through the water. A big watery splash was the indication he had joined Lucio in this aquatic amusement.Though they were identical twins, they also had the ability to alter their physical shape slightly. Mostly their hair and size, and also their faces. Today they were identical again, except for their size as Lucio had increased it, and their hair. Adrian was bald today, his perfectly round skull was appearing almost shiny in the afternoon sun. He winked at his brother with a big grin and dived under the wavy surface.
In reply to: Synchronicity
Interesting sync, speaking of next Indiana Jones due in theaters in 2008, having to deal with crystal skulls; there’s a Frank Marshall in here too
Lucas stated that he became fascinated with crystal skulls while producing The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles in 1992. He felt the skulls were as strong a plot device as the Ark of the Covenant.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Georges and Salome’s journal
From Salome’s account of her journey to the Murtuane
There is a purple beach that I have seen briefly in my third eye, with a stranded people of the Murtuane. It seems like a possible focus of Georges, named… “Jarvis” I would translate.
Georges having moved to the mountainous and icy lands of the Duane, I thought it would be entertaining to discover more about this focus before telling him about it. Though it was not what I initially in mind as per an exploration, it surely has its purpose.
This island has in fact the size of a continent, but being in an isolated part of the Murtuane, few are those knowing of it. It fosters some interesting creatures not found in other places of the Murtuane. Jarvis is not yet aware, but he is observed by some of them. Zentauras (these black-and-white striped centaur-like creatures) are guardians of this Island, and thus do not see the arrival of one of Jarvis’ kind as a particularly good omen. What puzzle them is that he has been rescued by one of the Daughters of the Sea.When I connect with Jarvis, he tells that he knows this land as “Kandulim”, a fabled island from which people could easily go into another world and bring back whatever is most precious to you. It always had been a legend for him until he had opened his eyes and seen the purple beach.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Arona sat by herself just outside the cave. It was twilight hour, in between the dark and the light. She had awoken early, with a heaviness in her heart.
Maybe I will just sit here for ever and ever and never move again, she mused, I will turn to stone, and they will make legends up about me, the strange stone girl of Malvina’s cave.
Buckberry the little dragon ambled over and sat quietly next to her. He had been foraging in the half light for the buckberries which grew outside the entrance to the cave, and to which he was extremely partial. Arona reached out a hand, slowly, and petted him. She felt tears begin to form somewhere in the dark space behind her eyes, was it many tears or one endless tear? she wondered. The tear started falling from her right eye first. The left eye seemed more reluctant to cry, and when eventually a little trickle started down her face, she followed its watery path with interest.
Light will come, said the voice kindly, can you feel it?
The tear from her left eye had caught up now, Arona noticed, and was first to dampen the waiting earth.
Buckberry and Arona sat for quite some time, communing in companionable silence, and both knew that morning a bond was formed that would not easily be broken.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Georges and Salome’s journal
From Georges’ account of their first journey to the Alienor star system
It’s our first attempt to use the Jorid to move through dimensions. Well the trip was worth it. I enjoyed it tremendously. I felt so elastic and inside-outed…
We had already gone through the Jorid to distant locations of our own dimension, but it’s slightly different. The adjustments of the encoding part of the physical manifestation is but one part of it.Our joint focus had led us to a particularly interesting dimension. I know I have already many focuses in it as Salome has too. Maybe it was what created the draw to this dimension. We just didn’t choose to focus at the same time and space… it was our choice. We are so strongly connected that it is not important. We can reach each other awarenesses at will and communicate so fully at any moment.
It seemed to me that I already had a comprehension of the structure of this dimension. I’m not aware yet of when or how I did that but I understood that Salome wanted to take time, though time is not really relevant to describe the process of assimilation she was undergoing.I felt drawn to the Duane. I was feeling some strong resonance in the vibrations of the people of this “planet”, but it was not really a planet like our planet Earth in our dimension. I still don’t understand fully how it is created, but the shape is quite flexible, so to speak. I had chosen to manifest different qualities, relevant to my current exploration which could be translated as physical strength and sharp intellect, and a strong persuasive energy.
Physically focused I could feel Salome in the RA2 of this dimension where a part of my attention was continuously focused. She already had made contact with different beings of the Duane in their dreams, preparing my coming so to speak
but her main focus of attention was directed to the Murtuane where I had hidden a few surprises for her. I’m sure she will appreciate the attention In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Now who the bloody hell is Alfina… Al was finding Becky’s obliviousness dangerously contagious…
Of course, Alfina… He had seen her in his dreams at times, in the form of a splendid she-wolf named Iona.She’s also Aina in Yurick’s timeline… his future focus Janice whispered to Al, and smiled as she was seeing other probabilities forming in other dimensions in which Iona played an interesting role…
In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
WOW… lots of interesting ones in that cloud here:
— Once under thinking, session clear words God/Human waiting speaking word, language beginning feeling looked. Key herself aware […]
— Gaughran home looking funny random energies
— Tracy floating, magic color seemed trip
— Points side mountains, process great
— Bugger difficult! Nice interesting moment link
creating action
— Trust help face aspects seems play
— Structures changing… Dancing green heart Finn
— Badul getting synch princess
— Twilight book important
— Elikozoe stories singing magical times. Able feel sort understand images mind, read Armelle. Voice started moments sync call Maevel…In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— Well, to me, it was rather obvious it was a bleedthrough from one dimension to another… sighed Al, who had now half-long teal-coloured hair in perfect shape, as he was filing and shaping his nails turned back to a reasonable size.
— Oh, that FLOYD treatment did well on you marveled Saint Tina.
— FLOYD what?? looked back Becky, who was still fumbling into Sam’s hair, at the sound of the strange word that might have been a clue.
— FLOYD: Focus Lots On Yourself, Dimwit that’s the name of the treatment… It’s made of extracts of Fuckus Rapidus, a new plant that has been blooping in Russian taiga recently. It had covered a whole region in a fortnight. People wondered what they could do about them, but apparently, some old crone found an interesting use for them… But we’re getting side-tracked, aren’t we?
— Oh, this is fascinating Becky said, wondering if she would look better now with a mane of luscious raven hair on her beautiful dark-skinned head… What’s the name already? BOYF?
— No! BOYF is the exact opposite, it’s Blame On Your Friend it’ll have all your hair and nails fall in a few days, even your pubic hair I fear… I still don’t know what’s the use of that though there might be some customers for it…
Al was puzzled.In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Marvin Scrozzezi was considering a script that had been sent to him by his friend.
Betty, his assistant, had insisted that he reads it…Seeing his current movie, it couldn’t be any worse in any case.
The title of the script cracked him up.Ogregan, the Origeans
Marvin giggled, almost spluttering his smoking chai on the script.
He started to read the first paragraphs.
FADE IN: EXT. WOODS A big humphing man plunges into the woods. Twigs slap at him, but the sound of gunfires keeps him going. Sheriff Marshall is taking the lead, but an auburn haired man plunges into the woods before him, followed by one dark-haired one. They are obviously brothers. The older one is ELVIN STREWN, he is following his younger brother with the lopsided hair, JAY STREWN. JAY is shooting at the fugitive, ALDO MC GALLIGAN, a local mobster known as the OGREGAN. Gunfire explodes in trees near the STREWN brothers, shot at them by MC GALLIGAN, and they dive and roll into hiding under a palisade.Interesting stuff, wonders Marvin… That mobster looks like a fascinating character…
Flipping though the script he found page 57 another catching bit of reading…
DISSOLVE TO: EXT. PROSPERITY BANK ; SHOT of a Texan bank on a quiet street. INT. PROSPERITY BANK There are three customers, male. Enters a MOTHER and her SON. TELLER#1: What can I do for you Mrs MC GALLIGAN? MRS GALLIGAN to her SON who is drawing on her dress: ALDO, will you keep still for a moment, good for nothing!…
Pfff, Marvin sighed, feeling bored.
Not long after, he was sound asleep, snoring loudly on the comfortable chair.In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Ted was quite fond of Ogrean.
Twilight was a bit sorry for the sheriff, for she had thought him a good guy at first,… whatever that means… but obviously he was a bit blinded by the slickness of the slimy condescending Pompousaur.But something interesting had happened this day, and she wondered how it would change things again.
Apparently, from what she had caught from the scene, Ted had left the saloon in a cold rage, and it was quite obvious that the Pudgeon was a bit distraught… What could have moved the jovial sheriff like that?When she and Anna were changing clothes behind the scene after the representation, Anna started to talk quite freely and unexpectedly about the accident.
— That Marshall guy is not as silly as he seems…
As she was more talking to herself, Twilight didn’t answer.
— What d’ya reckon? Anna asked more directly
— Oh me? I don’t really know what happened…
— Don’t play dumb with me, girl. You’re smarter than you wanna show.Twilight took some time to ponder…
— I don’t think that Ogrean tried to bribe the sheriff, not as obviously…
— Yeah…
— Apparently, he started to explain the sheriff who he was supposed to arrest, and that didn’t please him the least.
— More likely, yes. Definitely sounds like him…
— Anna?
— Yes?Twilight almost wanted to tell her how she did understand Anna and how it must have been difficult for her with that child from Mc Gaughran, but she couldn’t express all of that.
— Terry is sweet.
— Yes he is, he’s a lovely boy. I love him so much despite…
— I know.When she came back to their ranch, Twilight felt relieved somewhat about what had occurred. Perhaps that this era of heavy cloaked ruthless order incarnated by Ogrean was coming to an end.
She was a hopeless dreamer.In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
Ahaha, yes! And something funny that caught my mind while discussing with TP is that as you go on scrying and writing about your findings, you modify the cloud, as the new words are reintegrated into it.
A bit like self-fulfilling prophecies. Or the more you focus on things, the more you make them prominent…
Interesting stuff…Topic: Scrying the Word Cloud
I’m starting a new discussion if you find some interesting message in the Word Cloud of our energy deposits.
Or poems, or nonsense…Feel free to indulge
From wikipedia on scrying : Scrying or crystal gazing is the occult practice of using a medium, most commonly a reflective surface or translucent body, to aid perceived psychic abilities such as clairvoyance. The media often used to “see” are water, polished precious stones, crystal balls, or mirrors.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Sirielle looked through the crystalline window.
A humpback whale was passing by. Sirielle loved the song of the whales. Gorgean whales like this one were males, singing all during the rut to attract females miles away. Every season they would keep most of the same music, adding variations at times to the melody. This one was a sly one, Sirielle could tell. With its beautiful purulent budgeonic spots on its back, it was an old mighty male whale that she had seen already the past seasons, but its song had changed ever so slightly. It had probably plagiarized some of the most successful songs from other whales to become more attractive and that would make him a bit over the top.
At least, the females had a good parade for such insistent huge males, they could just put themselves upside down, close to the surface, so that the indelicate male could not have access to the holy of holies.
Sirielle felt so close to the whales.Today, she had noticed the first changes on her body. She was growing gills, and soon would be able to breathe underwater. She was already a proficient swimmer, from a young age, as her hands and feet had grown swimfins. But the most interesting modification wouldn’t occur before a certain age.
When she had entered the room of Crystals, she had been a bit disappointed. She had expected some great ceremony with old wizened long-bearded robed priests to operate the crystals, but there had been only a young man not much older than herself, and a distracted middle-aged woman.
The Crystals had the ability to beam some specially focused light and provoke realignment of the patterns of the body. It was like the vibration carried by the light and enhanced by the crystal would be modifying the vibrational quality of her organism, and make it change itself quite naturally from the inside.She couldn’t wait to go out in the oceanic depths and test her newly grown organs to swim with the huge cetacean.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Thanksgiving, 1847
That last business trip in British Honduras had proven fruitful to Aldous. It had almost made him forget about the blue bull of the Disperso family.
Because Aldous was a collector. No one truly understood what were his motivations, but he was driven by the highest ideals. Some treasures weren’t deserved by the profane, he was thinking as he was munching on a tender juicy turkey leg.
He belched with profound depth.
Yes, he was doing everything with utmost depth and dedication.Take that blue bull for instance… A gift from Indian officials he had managed to have them bring here. Its real place was in a zoo, with a small fee at the entrance of course, but most importantly some information on how it was acquired and by whom. Definitely not in the farm of some hillbillies just because they have happened to win that stupid rodeo contest.
In any case, he would put that right again in due time.Let’s think of more pleasant things. Like these mahogany traders who had came into contact with remote Mayan tribes. Mahogany was nice, but Mayan treasure were even more interesting.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Hank, the saloon pianist, was hopelessly in love with Anna.
But she had so many wooers, I hadn’t dared say how much he loved the blond dancer. For fear of public ridicule mostly, as he didn’t think he was very good-looking, with his horse-face… Not that she really cared with all these men having gone into her bed. But he couldn’t take the risk. Better a life in her shadow than taking a chance and spoil everything.
He had always been here to care for her.
When that young one had came to dance too, he’d been the one to make it easy for them. Or he thought he did…
What was annoying Anna the most was that the newcomer would be using a blond wig and that might eclipse her. Of course, that wasn’t what Anna had said, but Hank knew her well enough to understand.
He was the one coming up with that idea of Twilight as a stage name for the other one, keeping the shining Dawn for Anna. Like sisters, yet worlds apart. Apparently they both had found the idea great, and even if for Hank, Dawn and Twilight were different movements of the same seesaw, for Anna, it was pretty obvious that Dawn came before Twilight.When Anna had been fat with her blue-eyed baby boy, he had been providing her some shelter for some time. It was so obvious for everybody that nothing could happen between them… Anna was oblivious, trying to get herself a proper husband. She had almost convinced that Jo that he was the father. Hopefully Hank had thwarted the attempt. He had his own idea of who was the father, and that wasn’t something to be proud of.
And Hank had better keep his mouth shut, as the guy in question wasn’t one to allow being tickled on such sensitive subjects.
In the end, Anna got fed up with all his attentions, called him a sticky leech. How ungrateful…Now she was with that old bloke… A fat half-bald guy with long unkempt greyish greasy hair who had lost his wife, eloped with their former neighbour. The story had provided a good laugh to everyone who was well aware of it. But somehow Anna took compassion for that Manuel — who was nicknamed the Bar Rook due to his pressing penchant for alcoholic beverages.
Hank was finding Twilight more interesting… Free of romantic bonds and dazzlingly beautiful as she was growing.
Once in the beginning of her representation he had found her crying behind the bar, after having been hauled around by Anna once again.She had told him an interesting story about her wig. It was a gift from her mother’s foster sister. The two women had suckled the same Ol’ Granny Lucy and had kept very close over the years. But her mother’s foster sister had a tough life, and she made a business of selling her golden hair to make wigs. Twilight’s was one of those. A gift from this aunt, which was all the more dear and precious to her. She had said to Twilight that it would draw to her good fortune, and fame too…
It was easy for Hank to imagine that to become true.In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Ted Marshall swaggered into the saloon and ordered a tequila. He adopted a casual pose against the bar, tipped his pith helmet back with one casual finger, and surveyed the scene. He cast a disninterested glance over the dancers, and tut tutted under his breath when he recognized Twilight. That girl was too big for her scuffed boots!
A charismatic character caught Ted’s eye, a handsome man in a stylishly crumpled white linen suit, stretched taut against his bulging biceps. Success, drive and determination seemed to exude from his very pores, the slick sheen of raw power.
Ted edged himself closer to the larger than life character, and glared at the tall lean man who had just walked in.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Leörmn was feeling a bit weird to be so intimately explored by this Georges. He was seeing him, actually another aspect of himself with his simultaneous eye in that other time. He was wondering why Malvina was also choosing to perceive time as the other human beings. Leörmn, and other dragons had a very different way of exploring and being in time and space. They were their focus and it was simultaneous… it was also ever changing and that’s why the narrator is having lots of difficulties to translate that… but if you connect with your inner senses I’m sure you’ll get it right
Well the dragon was seeing simultaneously the Georges in this particular intersection of their aspects in this now that was also connected with so many nows. He could easily follow the particular movement of this Georges and was seeing also the many paths and probabilities he was following at the same time. Leörmn had that particular multi-dimensional focus with which he could easily communicate with his human friends. He wasn’t mentioning all that they were doing in the many intersections of his self for it was unnecessary, but he was aware they weren’t fully aware… or rather that their awareness was directed differently.
This Georges, and this Salome were similar to Malvina. He was fully aware of the vastness of her being and of her deep understanding of his own vastness. They were connected and intersected in numerous ways. This creature of theirs was here too. She was with Malvina. In other intersections she was manifesting a different shape, this one was interesting also. Her energy was subtly different also, there were different energies that were intersecting with other aspects of these Georges and Salome.
The room was reshaped in himself, so it was reshaped in what the humans would call the outside… but it was inside, there was no such thing as outside.
For a few days, this particular intersection of himself was changing also because Malvina was altering this aspect of herself she was calling her thought process. She was disassociating many layers of energies, of patterns and rearranging them. It was a fun reorganization for him also… in a manner of speaking it had already happened, but it was a new exploration and it was radiating in many probabilities. He added a smell of roses in the cave, an impulse. The shades of pink he added in the crystals was not a random choice either
He realized now what was the new energy he’d been feeling, he added some qualities and aspects to this exploration and included a fleck of himself in the Leo. What a funny creature. His aspects intersecting with it were all full of joy and fun. It was a good choice, he thought as a translation of his excitement in this new exploration. He was enjoying tremendously this present of this Salome.
He shape-shifted a little to reorganize his scales on his shoulders so the Leo could easily rest there, and projected himself to Malvina.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Yann had been gloomy for a few days. Actually it was not really gloomy, his mood was changing quite quickly and he’d had hard times to follow himself. He didn’t want to impose his mood on his friends and even with Yurick it had been up and down. Nothing to worry about, he thought. He’d been told by Malika it was a clearing of sort, old aspects to let go, they had served their purpose and it was time he accepted the change in himself.
It was easier said than really done. Last Sunday he felt he was “fragmenting”, he felt part of himself gather and do something he couldn’t really define, he felt like they were moving their own way, leaving for their own exploration… but he had still the experience of it. And in the following days he could feel that he could easily tap into these aspects when he wanted to.
The other unusual thing that happened was that he was feeling many inputs from many sources he couldn’t always define. Most of the time he could associate easily a face or a situation, at the beginning it was still singularly focused. The more he allowed that, the more multi-layered it became, it was blending with stories of sort, different aspects of himself he felt, and also aspects of his friends or of perfectly unknown people. Some could be translated as famous individuals, some as homeless people, some as future and some as pasts… and the weirdest was that there were not one version of each, though he was in a way more inclined to focus on one of them… there was a theme behind all that… He hadn’t found it yet though.
He was feeling like evolving in a sticky atmosphere and he could fill it with his fears, so they could express, but the stickiness of this energy was in a way holding them tightly and he had difficulties to let go of these fears. Fears to be abandoned, fears to be less than, to be uninteresting or just not as interesting as… well all that was about comparison and self worth, he was feeling that it was not about the whole of himself, it was particular aspects still holding to these separations from himself. He was feeling he was to accept that in order to let go of this separation. But the non separation was also frightening him because he was frightened by the vastness of his being, the vastness of the connections he was feeling… “and what if I loose my beloved Yurick in the process?” he thought. Couldn’t he just trust himself that he would always be connected to his friend, because that was what he wanted?
He looked at his cat Arona. She seemed far from all those concerns, and he noticed she was purring more strongly than usual. He smiggled… hahaha, what a funny word. He stroked her fur and she moved her body with grace and abandon, how lovely of her to allow such an openness and such trust that it is safe and pleasurable.
He smiled broadly and stroked her belly, full of this joyous and wondrous feeling of love of himself. He felt how it was radiating from him to all his friends and all beings.
