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      Georges and Salome’s journal

      From Salome’s account of their first journey to the Alienor star system

      The Jorid has spotted what will be the destination for our first joined adventure.
      It’s a dimension which seems unexplored yet, and rather fascinating. Georges, as he is, would already have jumped right in, but I preferred to get a little more background information before moving into it. It’s still a little awkward to move into these realms where the laws of physics as we’ve known them are different, sometimes dramatically so. These would not be too much of a difficulty as the adaptation of the physical body usually goes quite fast, as Georges has shown me when we trained in more familiar dimensions, but the most delicate part is when we barely know the relationships at play.
      Georges will laugh because he’s more confident that everything is perfect, but somehow, I tend to believe that things can be a little more perfect when we know how to avoid making faux-pas.
      So we’ve spent a few days gathering some basic informations on this dimension we call Alienor. The most part of the activity seems to revolve around a cluster of planetoids. At this moment, it’s forming a system of three planets revolving on the same orbit around their sun. We call them Duane, Murtuane, and Phrëal.
      They seem to form a complex web of relationships, and cover such a wide range of aspects that we have decided on a mutual agreement to split our exploration to cover more ground for a beginning.
      Georges is exploring the Duane, and I took the Murtuane, both planetoids seeming to come from the same core of matter, in a manner of speaking. The feeling around the Phrëal is more ambivalent, as though it is undergoing some deep change, not unlike to the Shift that will be (or has been) occurring on our Earth. So, we’ve decided not to interfere with it right now. It may take a dozen of years (as we understand them) for them to undergo that process, but it’s not like we care of time issues in any case.

      Here are my first observations concerning the Murtuane. Obviously, it ties into the Duane, but I am not completely aware of all of these ties yet.
      The first connection I had to the Murtuane was with some ancient beings living here. I saw myself riding one of these sentient beings, gliding through the sky in a mountainous land. The colours are vivid, even if the atmosphere seems very light, and filtering the sun’s ray in a spectrum slightly more indigo than our sky on Earth. These beings, whose name I can’t yet translate accurately (it’s something close to Nirgual) are powerful winged focuses of essence, though I suspect this to be a mere convenient form that they use. They somewhat remind me of the Rokhs (or Rocs) that the sultan’s wifes were telling us about in their legends. Apparently, they are respected, perhaps feared by the people inhabiting the lands, though I can feel they are for the most part benevolent.
      These people, those that I could spot, seem to have a slightly green skin, but overall humanoid form (within my translation of them).

      I will probably have more to connections once we gather our impressions with Georges.


        It had not been easy to convince his parents. His mother especially…
        As a matter of fact, he had failed to convince them at all, and Tomkin had to decide by himself whether he wanted to follow Badul and his crew in his quest for unknown mysteries.

        Tomkin had left a short written message for the Sharples, to tell them that they needn’t worry, and all would be fine.

        Badul had decided to split his crew in two, having Austor in charge of the boats while he would go with a handful of trusted men by land.
        Apparently, the young boy was aware of one portal which was close to their current location. This one was not part of the main network and was operating unknowingly to the officials. Its size was small, and travels were regulated by a local governor who used it for his clandestine business.
        It was located deeper inside the lands of Golfindely, and the mountainous area of highlands planted with luxuriant trees made its access difficult.

        Despite the boy’s initial reluctance at leading them to this place, Badul was determined to go, and very quickly Tomkin was excited at the opportunity to finally travel as he always had wanted to. It wouldn’t be by sea for now, but as Captain Bone said, every journey starts with one step.


        In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud


          THE WIDE ones caught maevel AS SHE WAS beginning A game. HER sisters, A boy, HER self AND HER mummy WERE GOING ON A trip. THE bag LADY heard, BUT DIDN’T understand. Night ON THE island CAME, AND sam, quintin, AND quickly yann AND THE BAG lady, moments within OPEINING THE door, A human real focus sort, WHO loved tomkin, WALKED IN.

          NO higher EVENT HAD happened; perhaps IT looked LIKE action, beautiful TO himself, able TO SEE sanso’S mother, rather blond WITH dark ROOTS. AH, words ARE wanted, FOR AN ass SO true TO BEcome aware SO easily. I needed TO read love INTO whatever YOU MAY BE thinking, AS I GO wandering IN THE lemonS, THINKING OUTSIDE THE box.

          Warm SUN, LET’S sleep; let’S meEt AND watch important water IMAGERY. Nothing IS lost, IT’S calling US.

          Cool session! :yahoo_eyelashes:

          IT’S A fine LINE BETWEEN already focused dragons THIS year. IT’S ALL happening NOW; I wonder IF finding tracy created UNtold CLUES.:cluebox: :yahoo_doh:

          WE knew THE great blue GUY WAS getting mean, changing OUR cave SO often AND SO weird .

          NOTHING IS EVER forgotten :yahoo_skull:


            Veranassessee (V’ass) Eloha, swimming like a naiad in the waves of the sapphire sea bordering the island of Tikfijikoo, was back in a few powerful strokes on the wooden planks of the pier from which she had just fallen.

            Trained in many martial arts and in the art of concealing her emotions, she effortlessly managed to maintain a perfect composure despite the fact that this unexpected moment of inattention may have cost the loss of the precious box of rare Blue Bonnet spiders —the venom of which was needed for the good success of the “treatments”.

            Sharon and Gloria, still cackling unceasingly, thanked Armando, the pilot of the seaplane, who had entertained them no end with his stories of mysterious wreckages and lost aircrafts.
            Now they’d just landed on this paradisaic island, and a gorgeous woman dripping in water was extending them a firm hand, greeting them.


            Al was wondering who had jinxed his last entry in the play, that he had to write twice, since some invisible mischievous hand had just made him lose the first in the /dev/null dimension.
            Good thing the Sumafairies bent over his crib had been gifting him with a good memory…


            Welcome at Tikfijikoo, where your kewlest dreams come troo.

            V’ass was satisfied. Though, most of the box had been lost, she had managed to save two couples of spiders, which would be enough for the two turkeys. :yahoo_chicken:
            As for the remaining ones, let’s just hope they’re all dead and drowned.


              “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!”

              Becky had been flicking through the wads of typed pages as she lay on the sofa, sipping hot lemon and honey, and sneezing. The sneezing! Jeeze, the sneezing had been going on for days. What with all the sneezing and sleeping, she felt more blinked out than blinked in lately.

              Sand, sand sand…… Hhmmm, Becky was wondering why the sand syncs were coming in again. She blew her nose, and picked up another wad of typewritten pages, opening at random.

              Illi was bored with the deserted island and the sand dragons. She wanted some action, some surprises, some…..well, some life!”

              Wow, I’d forgotten all about Illi, thought Becky. She imagined the calm quiet beach, Illi’s island get-away. Well, before she’d conjured up the sand dragons it was quiet, anyway. Becky thumbed through the next pile of papers.

              Arona pulled out a well worn map from her bag. The map had been a gift from a traveling wizard who visited the village a few years ago. Arona had given him food and shelter and he repaid her kindness with the map.”

              Well, I’ll bet that’s a clue, thought Becky drowsily, But I can’t be bothered to work it out now.

              The trouble is, Becky muttered to herself, When I start this random reading thing I just can’t stop, it’s like an addiction. She sighed and opened again at random:

              “The hydroplane was flying over the “Sarcastic Sea” in the Bermuda Triangle. Anita was not afraid, her parents had told her about the triangle and the different legends of people disappearing or reappearing there….”


                Madame Butterbutt, the saloon landlady and iconic colourful figure, came back to her room in a fury.
                She was living above the saloon, in a large room tastefully furnished, with some exuberant objects that she had gathered from her many commercial acquaintances.

                She took one of her favourite cigarillos to calm her down.
                That Mc Gaughran was such a… she wasn’t at loss for words. But none of them would have been strong or decent enough for the dork that he was. Ooops she smiled, this last one had almost slipped out unnoticed.

                Unlike many people in that small town of San Demangelo, she wasn’t fearful of the man. Not of the man himself (she was almost a giantess compared to many women), and certainly not of his threats either, even though she knew what the man was capable of.
                She knew well many of his shady tricks, but she also knew things about him that most of the time sufficed to keep him quiet and docile.

                Today, she would have almost laughed at him when he had tried to pressure her by threatening to reveal to sheriff Ted Marshall her little trafficking of hallucinogenic toads. Pathetic of him.
                That was really nothing, a little commerce she had with some remote part of her family in Guatemala, especially the voodoo witch Nana Del Conda. These were regularly brought to her by the old ambulant quack Myrlin who was selling all sorts of hocus pocus remedies, keeping the potent ones for Madame Butterbutt.

                So nothing extraordinary about that… No,… what had brought her in that terrible mood was when the hoity-toity, pompous, arrogant, full of himself f*ckhead, oops she bit her lip again… When that jelly belly mugger had tried to coerce her into pushing the little Twi into his bed.

                When that foolhardy brother El Disperso is storming again into the bar to try to find quarrel and provoke the jelly pig into a brawl, she would perhaps let him have it his own way after all.
                Last time her loath of firearms had been directed strongly against the young boy, perhaps also to protect him too… Anyway, he was perhaps right, allowing himself to “float downstream”, from the hate to the anger… and perhaps to hope and joy again.
                She started to sound like dear ol’ Abe…


                  On hearing the scream Dr Bronklehampton jumped up from what he was doing and rushed towards the laboratory where the Mummy, or Sasha Goldenwort, was having her fifth session under the laser. The only other person with any medical training of note on the island was Nurse Bellamy, who currently was down on the beach climbing coconut palms. A ridiculous pastime in Dr Bronklehampton’s opinion, however a young native boy had taught Nurse Bellamy something called the frog technique for climbing palm trees, and she now seemed to derive great pleasure from skimming up and down and bringing him back coconuts. The problem was, he reflected as he puffed down the corridor, that they had far too much time on this island with not enough to keep them occupied for some months now.

                  A smell of burning greeted Dr Bronklehampton as he rushed into the laboratory. Sasha was lying outstretched on the floor.

                  Dr Bronklehampton, medical expert that he was, knew at once something must have gone horribly wrong. He rang the alarm located on the wall by the door in the hope it would raise Nurse Bellamy, and rushed to Sasha’s side.

                  Sasha was dead.

                  He could see this immediately. Her skin, which just a short time ago was a beautiful and youthful smooth peachy colour, was now covered in purple weals.

                  He sat silently for a moment thinking, then calmly and deliberately walked to the laboratory door and locked it.


                  Nurse Bellamy was indeed halfway up a particularly tall palm tree when the alarm sounded. Oh bugger, she swore. By the time she arrived back at the treatment center, Dr Bronklehampton was reclining in his office. So sorry, he said with an apologetic smile, false alarm. Hope you weren’t inconvenienced. Anyway, good thing you are here, I believe two of the new guests have arrived, you might like to go and meet them.

                  Oh, he said casually , as though an afterthought, Sascha decided to leave early, while the hydroplane was here. She said to say goodbye to you. Yes, she is absolutely delighted with the results of her treatment.


                    The hydroplane was flying over the “Sarcastic Sea” in the Bermuda Triangle. Anita was not afraid, her parents had told her about the triangle and the different legends of people disappearing or reappearing there, but instead of being afraid she was a bit excited. She didn’t tell her parents though because it was not officially acceptable, at least she could understand that. Her only friends was a lynx and a rabbit coming often to visit her and play with her. She could see them since the beginning, and at times there were an owl and a goat coming along with them. Her parents wouldn’t believe such thing, but she was 5 and it was acceptable.

                    They had told her the trip will be OK. There will be some surprising event of which they hadn’t wanted to tell her. It was a surprise of sort, and they told her she will create it in the right time. Nothing to fear, because they would be with her. Anita trusted them with her life, they were always kind and fun. And the rabbit had at times the energy of a panda, and she was quite fond of panda too. She had this secret desire to be a panda herself ;))

                    She closed her eyes, how would that surprise be manifested? If she was the one creating it, could she know in advance? But it would not be a surprise anymore… and she loved surprises :) so she won’t try. She just let her inner world open and continued her discussion with her friends. She noticed a yellow butterfly approaching, he was bright and quite funny, flying around like that. It was flying around her head and coming back and forth… and then suddenly kissed her on her nose, she giggled of pleasure, it was so funny, their friends were playing around her in her inner landscape, and all was wonderful.


                    Aaron was trying to call the control tower of their destination… it’s been a few minutes since the last contact and he was beginning to worry. No need to worry, he thought, though he couldn’t really trust it. He didn’t want to make his wife and his daughter worry for that. It was planned to be a beautiful trip from Miami to the New Lunacy Park in the Bermuda Triangle… an island created by men. And he had lost contact with them… :yahoo_nailbiting:


                      Narani was waiting patiently for her sisters to unfold their own desire. She had multiplexed their personal threads of desire for a new game to generate the magnetic field that was attracting the machinery of the 2 lEGGed creatures. She knew them well, as the oldest sister of her tribe, she was linked to all her “sisters”. And actually there were none of them that wouldn’t be a relative of sort. She had managed to maintain her own children on the island.

                      Her cousin Ararog had also managed her own nest in England. She was connected to her through a strange egg, white with threads of pistachio in it. She could speak from very long distance with that object, that was merely helping her to focus her energy in the most probable direction. She was doing well and there had been lots of movements for her too.


                      :mummy: smelled some chocolate cake in the distance… it seemed delicious and she was so hungry… :mummy: needed chocolate


                      Aldous Mc Gaughran farted contentedly, causing some disgusted glances from the other customers, he smurggled puffing on his cigar. He was feeling aroused by that beautiful blond chick dancing on the stage of the saloon and was making his decision about their family.

                      He :yahoo_pig: would have her.


                        The air was filled with anticipation. Phurt was feeling it for a few days and it was not the usual intuition stuff. It wasn’t conveyed by the silky threads or her web or of the other webs of the others like her… it was in the air, and it was very exciting.

                        All her sisters were excited also and it was mainly translating by a deep hunger. It was associated with the hunt. It felt like a new thrilling game of sort.

                        But now, all they could do was being patient ‘til the arrival of the new preys. It’s been so many seasons since the last ones came to their island.

                        :recycle: :weather-clear: :weather-few-clouds: :weather-overcast: :weather-showers: :weather-snow: :weather-storm: :recycle:

                        There was still a vibration in the air she couldn’t dissassociate from the main one, the exciting one. The main one was so intense that she even was doubting of the slight uncomfort of this weird one. She wanted to talk with the Elder Narani. She was the most sensitive of her kind, and the oldest also. She would surely know about this vibration.

                        But first she had to found a gift :yahoo_cow: and wrap it with the finest silk she could create. She began slowly to move from her centered position on her web and a subtle mechanism in her bodyconsciousness began the process of generating that finery and the poison that wouldn’t kill her gift.


                          Yurick found a very nice surprise in his mailbox. A parcel from his red bearded friend Gustav with whom he had not spoken much till Vienna .
                          Funnily it was for Yurick’s birthday, and his birthday was almost two months ago. And yet, it was perfectly synchronous with his many friends popping birthdays. Malika first, soon followed by Aina, and others.

                          In the parcel, there was a big stuffed panda, and an old video game Yurick was very fond of when he was a kid. It was called Monkey Island… A funny pirate’s game. He liked the island and monkey imageries. Like being in an island recently, yet not being cut off from the rest of the world…

                          Oh, and there was another game, one he didn’t know about, Grim Fandango, with skeletons on the cover, like playing some strange cluedo game…

                          And a novel from Proust, with Yurick’s name on it! A parody from the style of Proust’s contemporary, Balzac included…

                          Wow… so many syncs. He would call his friend in the afternoon.


                            Oörlaith was picking star-thistles buds that were growing on the ruins in the Marshes. She had always felt attracted by the putrid Marshes, for many reasons.
                            There was something in her own demeanour that made creatures and people comfortable around her, and she had always felt in herself that natural balancing and accepting qualities that makes a good Healer.
                            But it was a complex matter, and her choices of explorations had always stirred much incomprehension in the various people she had met over her life. And she had met lots.

                            Of course, the first ones where her own parents. They were opulent burgomasters of one of the major towns of Cromash Tur, and from the date of her birth, Oörlaith was destined to marry one of the Warlords of these regions. Something that was sound and portent of good fortune, as her parents kept saying. Warlords were always in need of fundings for their expeditions, and in exchange would be providing a modicum of security for the commerce and other activities. It was thus all good for everybody. Good exchange of practices.

                            But very early in life she had known her path was not that one.
                            Nothing as plain and simple… and boring! one must admit. Her parents would have not, though.

                            As far as she remembered, she first had a living proof of her potentials when she healed a small bird back to life. A miracle, for the poor thing had been maimed by an rabid chipmog pillaging birds nests for eggs, and throwing the little hatched bird off the branches. Chipmogs were no more evil than the bird she knew that, and their show-offy nature was even a blessing in disguise, as she had been quickly alerted of the incident.
                            She was four year-old.

                            Only later did she became aware of how she could best learn to develop her magical potentials. Her parents wouldn’t have let her know about such things as how to become a Grand Sorceress, for they did not really know much about it, and also for it was considered unfitting to her rank. “Simpletons”, she couldn’t help but think.
                            But the day she became aware of the legendary Island of Mörk, she instantly set her goal to be counted among the best of their Learned Ones, whatever the price for her.

                            And notwithstanding her relatively young age, she got by her own to the Island, and was trained there too… But then again, it was not as easy, as she rebelled against some of the Laws of Magic passed down by the Teachers, Laws that were thick and dry as a century old grimorium full of abstruse formulæ.
                            Hopefully, she ended up with misfits as much she was, her dear sisters Roselÿn and Malvina.

                            When it was time for them to part on their own adventures, she again surprised many (but not her dear sisters) by stating that she would settle near the Marshes. The legends surrounding this place, as well as the huge potential for practicing healing in one of the most difficult environments were immense incentives for her.
                            The Teachers had warned her of the immense energy that filtered in these lands, as it was a coordinate point where things had already gone awry in the past. She had almost laughed at them. Of course she was aware, that was all about that. Definitely not for the faint of hearts.

                            Her companion Andarión, who was in his/her preferred shape a majestic water dragon, as wise as it was a crackpot at times, had been aware of her intentions as soon as they had first met. They had chosen each other quite purposefully, though she was not entirely aware of her role in these discoveries. But undoubtedly he was an asset.

                            And as she was picking her mauve star-thistles, humming like a raving madwoman, her sharp eye was on the look for the legendary golden one which would mean the dawn of a new Era…


                              — A marmoset then… Georges said Salome grinning widely.
                              — Yes. Did you get a name for him?
                              — That’s cute… With his little white mane around his face, Malvina will love him.

                              Leo had jumped on Salome’s shoulder, as it was a bit exhausting for the little creature to follow them.

                              — You know they are disappearing on this island of Tikfijikoo where I was just before. I think they found the invasion of their habitat by humans no longer funny. Lots of them have already popped into another reality for their kind… It takes some adjustment to refocus and reconfigure the energy, but it seems to go smoothly, as Leo being here is proof.
                              — Yes, as lots of old species on Earth ware doing. The relocation process is a bit energetically crowded, in a manner of speaking…
                              Georges was finding usage of words in that dimension a bit uneasy. That ware was such an example of how language needed rearrangement when they talked about simultaneous events in both past and present. At least, he knew Salome was understanding beyond the words.

                              Salome smiled and envisioned Georges and herself bathed into a field of fluid mulberry jelly colour, and around them some of the particles floating haphazardly around started to gather orbiting in rippling circles around them.
                              Salome was remembering an undulating shape too that she could use as a tuning fork, and she added it inside the central circle.

                              — Oh, you’re right…

                              « the translation device ! » they both said simultaneously, bursting into laughter.

                              — I always tend to forget about that funny toy Malvina once explained to me. And you know how much I love to play with it… when I remember it, of course…

                              Malvina had told Georges that the particles which were in his field were assisting him in translation, and had a grounding and focusing effect.

                              Leo started to applaud frantically at the new light quality of the energy.


                                Dory’s stopover at Heathrow airport was longer than expected, due to the knock on effect of delays caused by the air traffic controllers strike in Paris. She bought coffee in a paper cup and went and sat in the cramped smoking room. A couple of middle aged overweight women were sitting opposite her, their chubby knees almost touching Dory’s in the unpleasant little nicotine yellow room.

                                Dory couldn’t help but listen to their conversation, and had to bite her lip on several occasions to prevent herself interjecting questions. Dory wanted to ask where this Tikfijikoo Island was. There was something about the sound of it that caught her attention, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on the strange feeling it gave her to hear the name.

                                The two women, who appeared to be named Shah and Glaw, were apparently on their way to an island to participate in some kind of experimental treatment, Dory gathered, organized by a Dr Bronklehampton. On hearing the name of the doctor, Dory had a series of images flit through her mind. One of them was of an impish looking redhead with an incredibly large head, doing the tango.

                                When the two plump ladies left the smoking room, Dory followed them. They bought magazines in the airport shop, and boiled sweets ‘in case their ears went’, and deliberated over sunscreen lotion, and then after some inaudible whispering, in which Dory heard only the words ‘treatment’ and ‘skin’, apparently decided against purchasing any of the skin care products.

                                Dory followed them into the public lavatories, and learned that ‘our Mavis’ would be joining them for the treatment, and listened to a great deal of rather unkind comments about ‘our Fred’ and his bullying ways. On the way out of the Ladies Room, the bleached blonde named Shah collided with a bag lady, at which point Dory saw a shower of bright blue sparks in her peripheral vision. The bag lady looked up and laughed at Shah and her friend and said ‘It matters not, my friend….HA! HA! HA!’, and winked at Dory as she shuffled past.

                                Dory followed the ladies to the baggage check-in desk. Yukailli Airlines. Dory had never heard of it; new airlines starting up all the time, she thought, and such silly names, like that Be My Baby one…what a daft name for an airline. Dory sauntered past, as she couldn’t really stand behind them without arousing suspicion. She was momentarily swallowed up in a swarm of Italians, there must have been two coachloads of them. By the time they’d passed her, Dory had made a decision. She would book a ticket to Tikfijikoo, hopefully on the same plane as Shah and Glaw.

                                She turned around briskly, fleetingly wondering what to say to Dan and Becky about her sudden change of plans, and made her way back to the Yukailli Airlines desk.

                                That’s funny, she said out loud, It was right here!

                                She scanned the names above the row of desks….British Airways, Monarch, Air France, Qantas…..but no Yukailli Airlines. Dory asked at the Airport Information desk.

                                I’m sorry madam, there’s no airline of that name here, the young man behind the desk informed her, looking at her quizzically.

                                Dory opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish, and wondered for a moment if she had imagined it. Just then someone bumped into her shoulder, causing her to spin round. It was the bag lady she’d seen earlier in the Ladies room.

                                Leaving at Gate 57 and three quarters, the bag lady whispered, and winked conspiratorily.

                                Dory’s mouth fell open. She was about to say Oh now really, what is this, Harry Potter Airport? but something stopped her. Instead she asked, But what about tickets and baggage check? But the bag lady had gone.


                                  Dr Bronkelhampton could not help but smile as she unwrapped the bandages and saw the peach smooth skin underneath. So far, so good. All was going to plan beautifully.

                                  Veranassessee had departed ten minutes ago to greet the two latest arrivals off the plane, and more would be arriving on the island over the next few days and weeks. They would have to be handled with care. Dr Bronkelhampton hoped they would be willing to participate in the experiments, or “treatments”, once they fully appreciated the benefits. But, if not…., she shrugged, there was really no way off the island except by her own say so.


                                    As the plane approached the landing strip on the small Pacific island, Gloria and Sharon looked at each other and smiled. What an adventure! They had both received an email from a mysterious Dr Bronklehampton, offering them an experience they just couldn’t refuse. Neither Gloria or Sharon knew why they’d opened the spam email, or why they had felt compelled to accept the unusual offer.


                                      Time gentlemen PLEASE! Last orders! :yahoo_bring_it_on: :yahoo_cow: :yahoo_waiting:shouted the grumpy old cow behind the bar.

                                      :yahoo_crying: :mummy: :mummy: :yahoo_not_talking: :mummy: :yahoo_not_listening: :mummy: :yahoo_heehee: :mummy: :yahoo_laughing: :mummy: :yahoo_whistling:

                                      But the busload of Italian mummy’s had no intention of leaving,
                                      and they certainly hadn’t finished drinking, so they disappeared the pub landlady in a puff of rose scented :mummy: :yahoo_rose: :weather-overcast:mummy fart.


                                        should we put quotes from litterature book? or speak of the war between the warring kingdoms?


                                        And Badul’s travel around the lands of the milky ocean during Xmas time…


                                          Does the world alzheimer work? or the word puppies or the word house and holidays… mmm buy a new car? or save money?
                                          or monkey island? the big mama is drunk and she gives you soup…


                                            Illi was bored with the deserted island and the sand dragons. She wanted some action, some surprises, some…..well, some life!

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