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  • — “Dory?” — “What, hon’?” a distracted Dory answered to young Becky — “You’d better remove the magnets from the iron, or you’ll ruin another one…” — “What are you talking about?!” Dory was perplexed, trying to find her way through the airport to Gate 57-¾, but only to find nothing but benches in between Gate 57 ... · ID #1135 (continued)
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  • #881

    Aum Geog spent a long time seating motionless before the piece of parchment which had just been delivered by a specially trained fincheon.
    Fincheons were not particularly elegant, (not to say downright ugly) one had to admit, but they were very convenient, once you noticed that their feathers were a special shining tint of grey which almost made them invisible. They always knew how to fly back, and this one had made no exception.
    But it was a bearer of annoying news for the newly appointed Elder of the Monastery who was trying to curb his irateness by staying still.

    This… he was at a loss for words. Breathe, breathe he exhorted himself.

    A few months ago, when he was appointed Elder, his patient work of diligence seemed to have just paid off. He had thought he would be given the keys, and more importantly, the chalice.
    But that sly dog of Hrih had decided otherwise. He had transmitted the chalice to that irresponsible and naïve novice Franiel, while giving him a bunch of rusted keys he didn’t give two poohs about.
    Of course, it was only a matter of time before he could get it back, all he had to do was to make Franiel uncomfortable enough that he willingly relinquish the ownership to someone… someone like himself of course!
    The annoying thing about this damn chalice you see, is that it won’t properly function with anyone else than the rightful owner (except for small uninteresting tricks). Obviously, Hrih didn’t want him to have access to its powers, but that old monkey was now gone, and there wasn’t much he could do about what was going on.

    In fact, the plan was nearly perfect. Two birds, one stone. Bring Franiel to have some appropriate spell modifications carved onto that chalice, and have him give it back to the Elder, Aum Geog himself.
    Obviously, he couldn’t just let go such a precious artifact in the nature without appropriate stealthy surveillance. Thanks to one of his faithful servants, Brother Derwish, he was kept informed of the progresses. A former master of disguises that a other-Worldly experience had him join the orders, Brother Derwish was no short of brains nor tricks in his bag, and that parchment was another proof of it.
    If he had renounced to contact Elder Aum Geog directly through the glowing balls, and take the risks of unexpected delays, it was because they were most probably watched and their communication monitored.

    So here went the news:

    SPARFLY HAS MADE CONTACT WITH BIRD OF PREY. EGG DISAPPEARED.
    NESTING CHANGED TREE. GNAT STICKS TO THE POOH.

    Brother Derwish imaginative poetry could mean but one thing. Or two perhaps.

    The little twit had been watched by someone else who had showed him some of the powers of the egg… err, the chalice. It would have partly activated the chalice, and make it disappear unless its owner needs it enough to have it appear again. Obviously, without chalice, or thinking it was lost, he had changed his course to another place.
    Hopefully, Brother Derwish was following his trail closely.

    If more disastrous news had to come, Elder Aum Geog would have to summon his char of marmoths (big toothed hibernating woolliphants) and go there by himself.

    :fleuron:

    Leonard was content. It had not happened exactly as he had thought, but as he had explained to Malvina, the only wise thing to do was to teach the boy about the powers of the chalice. That would active its self-protective cloaking power, and have the boy temporarily relieved of this burden.
    For if he had been entrusted the chalice by the old Abbot, that was surely for a good reason.

    As Franiel had been moving, Leonard had had Moufle watch over him. Apparently, Leonard and his dog weren’t the only ones on his trail… The wiry gangly tonsured guy clothed in a potatoes sack didn’t seem to be here by chance either…

    #880
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Tina flicked through an old, and obviously well read, hard-copy of Wisp magazine as she waited in the cafe for Becky. Al had just had an article submission accepted in the prestigious magazine, complete with photos of himself at different stages of his experiments. She chuckled to herself thinking of it.

      Where was Becky?

      #878

      Old Narani is becoming too soft.
      While the attraction of the hole was intensely beckoning, Phurt had been appointed by a strange twist of fate to the guard of the prisoners by the Old Mother.

      Bugger Narani whisspered Phurt, why not just kill them, these stupid two-legged animals. Why the pain of keeping them alive? Good thing the daily dose of sedative venom had them quiet now. They would only scare the mooing preys. Stupid, stupid.
      Of course, it would be easy to just sink a little more than usual her sharp tooth into their neck so fragile. A regrettable accident…
      Phurt couldn’t help but smile a grin as wide as her hairy eight-eyed face. But she wasn’t known as the Doctor of Breath for nothing. Her mere breath could be as sweet as a jasmine scent or terribly deadly. She had never missed a target, never could have.
      She was no mere Spinner; how could the Mother have put her to such a slighting task. Degrading. For her, the most promising Hunter of her generation to be doing this while they all were securing the hole perimeter.

      She would have to go. Something was nudging her to move, something like a fluid water sound, that whispered that nothing could happen to those prisoners. No one would be fool enough to dare to enter the Nest.
      Ahaha, why would she care? Nobody would know. And the little ones would alert her in any case.

      With a prodigious jump, she sprung to the forest in the direction of the hole. She couldn’t be denied her destiny.

      :fleuron:

      Is it gone now? a voice whispered under a pile of giant ferns
      I think it is growled Araili’s voice Thanks to the Snoot’s power of suggestion, I suppose… The Snoot might find spiders eggs delicacy enough to help us in our rescue operation.
      Shall we go there now? Kay? Ready to go and report back if everything’s clear?
      Ready.

      :fleuron:

      Rafaela was not finding it very difficult to jump on the rocky slopes. It was only difficult for her to remember to stay physically focused so that Anita wouldn’t fall to a certain death. And of course, even more difficult to resist to the attraction of nibbling a few crunchy thistles and brambles that grew here and there.
      But Yuki’s attention was here to remind her, and so far, their progression had been smooth and easy.

      But all of a sudden, the small pink nose of Yuki raised in quicker spasms sniffing the air intently.
      What? What? asked Rafaela who almost forgot her focusing. What?! Did I fart or something?

      Anu who was having the time of her life jumping on the coarse back of the goat giggled at her clueless question.

      — I think the spiders are moving too. We’ll be reaching the hole before them, and the Snoot tells me they won’t be moving close to it. But they won’t let anything or anyone get out of it. Let’s hope dear Armelle will spot a path for our friends.
      — Not to worry, Rafaela said matter-of-factly, Army is good at spoohtting. She’s the best I know at that.
      — OK, let’s move on…

      :fleuron:

      Claude was finally seeing a pinhole of light, at a close distance. He could just continue to crawl out his way to the light, and he would soon be release. And to cheer him up, he reminded himself that no man nor beast he feared, with his phenomenal strength agility and speed he now had. Too bad he didn’t have any time to get a proper super-hero attire he smiled to himself.

      :fleuron:

      On Tikfijikoo, the Magpie’s energy maze-cloak was now lift. The fury of the cyclone was now in its full power, and the Magpies were starting their swift deployment.
      The item was left unguarded in the operation room, as far as they could tell, and in the chaos of the elements, surely a few magpies would be unnoticed.

      They had to move quick now. The portal would be opened soon too. They couldn’t come back without bringing “it” back with them.

      #873

      A few moments later she was not so sure.

      What’s the matter?

      Oh you know … I am a bit distracted …too much going on I guess. She did not want to tell him that she could feel the presence of Mahiliki strongly in the room, his sweet trusting face gazing reproachfully at her. He would be worried about her, worried about the storm. She wondered how he was getting on.

      I understand, he smiled ruefully, it’s hardly perfect timing is it? Anyway that wasn’t the reason I asked you to meet me here, but I guess it just seemed like too good an opportunity to miss.

      I am sorry, she said, rolling her eyes.

      Maybe some other time. He handed her a robe.

      Sure. She wrapped it tightly around her. Anyway, the Doctor?

      All taken care of. I left Nurse Bellamy administering warm coconut milk, unbeknowst to her laced with a sedative. The Doctor will be peacefully sleeping for at least 24 hours.

      And Jarvis?

      Jarvis is an opportunist, but not dangerous. He was employed by the Doctor as a bodyguard, but has since changed sides. He is now working as a spy for the Magpies.

      The Magpies?

      Your hunch was right. The Magpies are operating on the Island, and they plan to strike soon.

      :fleuron:

      Sha was gazing dejectedly at herself in the mirror. Glor what d’ya reckon. Are all these bloody beauty treatments working or wot?

      Course they are!

      They looked at each other. Well, maybe it’s a bit soon to tell eh? she said doubtfully.

      Mavis! Sha shook the lump covered completely by blankets huddled on the bed. Come on Lovey, the storm won’t urt you. What d’ya reckon Mavis, ‘ow do we look?

      A dishevelled head popped out. You both don’t look no bloody different to me, ‘cept you’ve put weight on, she said honestly.

      Well that bloody does it, said Glor, We’d better find that Vessie, find out wots wot!

      #872
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        His door was open. He had his back to her, looking out at the storm. Veranassessee knocked lightly on the door and entered. He turned towards her.

        You’re wet Agent V, he said, his eyes running slowly up and down her body.

        His gaze came back to her face and their eyes locked. She felt her knees go weak. God does that really happen?

        Why had nothing changed? She had not seen him for so long, had almost forgotten about him. She loved Mahiliki… didn’t she? She had managed to convince herself that Agent Gabriele was in the past. That was where he belonged. He was a fantasy.

        She was not a child anymore.

        God, but he was gorgeous though. Dark, sexy, he gave off an aura of untamed passion just barely suppressed below the surface. His face was more mature, more closed off than before, but still almost unbelievably handsome. At one time she had known every line of his face, memorized it, retraced it over and over in her imagination. She thought she had known him.

        He smiled. Better get you out of those wet clothes, you’re dripping on the carpet.

        Still holding his gaze, almost defiantly she pulled her dress off and let it drop in a soggy heap on the ground.

        She wanted this didn’t she? She turned and closed the door behind them.

        #871

        — Who are you? said Alana. And how did you get here?

        The man who was standing before her was smiling mysteriously. She was staring at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice the hint of fear on her face. What was puzzling her most was that she didn’t know who he was working for, was he an agent of the Baron? It was quite unlikely. The French man Langlade had always been working alone since his misadventure with Harry, and the Baron wouldn’t double his agent if unnecessary.

        — My name is Andrimiñ. And as of how I got here… let’s say I know how to get through :) What matters is that I’m here to offer you my assistance…

        His smile was quite hypnotic, and she almost lost track of what was happening (very unusual of her) when a few knocks on the door and Mr Isashi’s voice reminded her of her guest.

        Are you all right, Aunt?

        The man was staring at her with his blue eyes, she had a strange feeling and she knew she had to move quickly.

        Aunt? Is there someone with you? I heard a man…

        — I can show you how to activate the skull, Atiara. And help you with this man.

        Suddenly she knew she could trust him. Something in his last words… there was much unsaid, and the name he gave her… she was having the weirdest feelings about it. As if it was perfectly fitting. She smiled to him, her tensions released. He was now looking at the door.

        — Bring our guest in, Mr Isashi.

        The face she turned to the door was full of a new strength, mixed with a strange feeling of familiarity.

        #870

        Keeping in mind the cluster of probabilities they were exploring with Salome, and blending it with Malvina’s and Irtak’s energy, Georges was building a subjective pathway to their destination. They were all sending their energy toward that time and place.
        Innerly connected with Irtak, they were both resonating with the twins who were already there in a way and helping them to create the connection.
        It was some kind of cyclone creating process, when the sky and the sea are joining together in a big swirl.
        The vibration was accelerating as Malvina was increasing the rhythm of her melody, matching the inner drone Georges was creating.
        Salome was blurring as she was going through a passage of her own, maybe she would pay a visit to another place and join them later, but her energy was helping them nonetheless.
        It was a moment of letting go of their focus, a moment of letting themselves reconfigure.

        #866
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          When Sam explained gently to Becky about the essences waiting for an entry point into this dimension, the ones that had chosen her, Becky, she was at a loss as to know what to think.

          Well I don’t want to let them down, Sam, she said mournfully.

          Sam laughed and said, You won’t be letting them down, silly. They’ll find another entry point. There’s no shortage of pregnant women in this dimension, you know.

          But I feel like they’re mine already, Sam, I feel responsible for them now.

          Laughing loudly, Sam reminded her that resposibility was her own core truth, and not an absolute one. Other essences are not your responsibility, you daft goose!

          I know that, but I feel somehow connected to them now. I’ll always wonder about them, worry that they made a bad choice and chose a horrid entry point…her voice trailed off, and then she giggled. I’m talking absolute rubbish aren’t I?

          Frankly, yes, dear, winked Sam. Anyway, aren’t you confusing two separate issues here, Becky? In the future probability that you viewed, Sean was a drunkard, and you had many children. They are not necessarily connected, you know. Sam winked again, and Becky blushed and whacked him over the head with the cushion she’d been clutching.

          Oh stop! I haven’t even been on my honeymoon yet!

          #859

          The wind howled. It screamed in fury. Cyclone Ycart in all its majestic glory was ripping over the island, screaming out its rage, like a demon swirling from hell.

          The rain started.

          Veranassessee shivered and cursed beneath the onslaught. Water saturated her long hair, plastered her thin cotton dress to her body and rain ran in rivulets down her face.

          She looked wildly around, trying to suppress the hysteria rising in her chest. She screamed out their names, but her voice was carried away by the winds. Breathing roughly, she paused, drawing in a calming breath.

          Then she saw them.

          Goddamit!

          She stared in bewilderment. She could barely believe what she was seeing. Mavis had been right when she nervously told her Sharon and Gloria were having a picnic on the beach. There they were like two beached whales, apparently oblivious to the waves lashing perilously close to them.

          For a moment Veranassessee was sorely tempted to leave them to their fate.

          #852

          Leah Muir, born and bred in Glasgow in Scotland, first visited Marseille on a business trip. She was the personal assistant to the director of the “Twin City Exchange Programme”, Robin Abbott.

          Leah fell in love with Marseille. Truth to tell, she fell in love with a racy fellow she met in the Café De l’Abbaye one tipsy afternoon, Enri Baccalao. Leah convinced her easy going boss to let her stay in Marseille for the rest of the exchange programme, and she moved into Enri’s apartment.

          Enri was a gregarious and popular man, and his artistically shabby home was always full of people. Leah soon became great friends with a delightfully witty young woman of Italian and Burmese descent, Luce Mong.

          #850
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Stop it, STOP IT! Becky shouted, clamping her hands over her ears, It was a futile action, as the voices were inside her head, and not likely to be halted by her pointless automatic reaction.

            She lit a cigarette with shaking hands and picked up a magazine in an attempt to calm down. She opened the copy of Crisp at random, her eyes unfocused.

            I’ll think about this later, she said to herself, when I’m feeling a bit better. Relaxing her tense hunched shoulders, she focused on the glossy pages. She had opened the magazine to the Essencopes page, and read the Borledim forecast for the month ahead.

            That’s it! She said excitedly. I’ll change my alignment! I’ll change it to, um, let me think…..
            Becky sighed, muttering to herself, How on earth does one change ones alignment?

            You said you were going to ‘think’ about it tomorrow, said the voice.

            Bugger off, you. Becky snapped. Good point, though.

            She picked up Crisp again, this time noticing that the scopes were written by her old schoolfriend, Luce Mong.

            Luce! Well, I never! exclaimed Becky with a smile. Luce Mong! Last I heard she was in Long Pong with Leah Muir. I wonder where she’s living now?

            #849

            Al had just inadvertently telepathically overheard Becky’s long monologue, and was rather amused at the situation that he decided to stay quiet and refrain from intervening.
            It was a sort of interesting experience, to see how it would develop…

            A voice was starting to make itself heard through Becky’s neuronal pathways though… A feminine voice first… Then a male…
            He could even sense a third presence too…

            Al was surprised, as he apparently didn’t really care about what kind of probability would express itself. It seemed it was all valid, and yet, there was something that wanted to make itself heard.

            Becky was quiet now. She seemed to have finally seen that nothing would happen as intensely and quickly as in her swift imagination.

            But Al was intrigued… Who were those presence, they felt lively, very humorous too. But they were concerned about Becky’s changes of mood. They were considering probabilities too, as though Becky’s choices were important to them.

            We are the first-borns of Becky answered the feminine voice who had keep still.
            Potential first sniggered the male voice.
            Oh, shut up, Oliver the third one said you know well enough we are creating our realities, so better give her some time… No need to freak her out… After all, it’s like for Dory’s nine dogs, they only came gradually, and she just accepted them…

            Dory? Al was wondering… He had heard that name recently… At the wedding party perhaps?

            Dory’s a past overlapping focus of Becky and her step-mother too… answered Léan, the quiet one.

            Al was befuddled. He had first thought these voices were only Becky’s playing games with herself.

            Oh sure it was, answered Oliver, we’ve just be using that wave of thoughts to bring us through. It’s very multi-layered.
            See, take the dogs which Illana talked about right now. You know some of these dogs Dory had (or has, or will have), they have “flecks” of people close to Dory, other essences’ energies. Some are very clearly noticeable, other are more mingled. These voices are multiplexes of voices, more or less subtle energies being expressed. Some are very deep. We were riding the surface of them.

            So, Illana, Lean and Oliver? That’s it?… Nice to meet you… Al was still thinking aloud (like in big characters printed on a silent kaleidoscopic screen)
            And that will be your focus names? Oh, yes… probable ones.
            It’s funny you know, it’s like you are becoming more real now. I can feel some associations coming that help bring you into form. Like Oliver, I associate him with a black dog of Dory. A little grumpy one with funny black eyes.

            The two female laughters mingled into one delightful chorus. Ahaha, we will give you a point for accurate connection!

            “And Léan,” Al continued, “you feel like a young blond woman, friend of Dory ready to get married… Yet, I can see you have a black complexion in this probable focus, unlike your siblings… Sounds a bit confusing…”

            Ahaha, another point!

            “Let me see, Illana now… I got you connected with another friend of Dory… An paleontologist or geologist, living in the US, blond lively woman with painted nails, and… the image is just gone now…”

            — Hehehe, that’s close enough, said Illana’s voice. I can see we’ll meet soon Al…

            And the moment after, the wisps of light were gone.

            #845

            She put down the plate of honeycomb and turned round slowly, her calm exterior belying the fear which had suddenly gripped her insides.

            He had called her Agent V!

            She had to stay calm, think quickly.

            And why is that, Jarvis?

            Jarvis, what did she know about him? He had been employed by Dr Bronkelhampton, although Veranassessee had resisted the idea vigorously. The fewer people on the island the better as far as she was concerned. But the doctor had insisted he needed someone to tend the gardens, and in the end she had decided it wasn’t worth making an issue of.

            I think I might be able to answer that question. Agent Gabriele entered the kitchen. His sudden presence had almost as disconcerting effect on Veranassessee as the revelation that Jarvis knew her identity.

            A little sideline of our beloved Doctor is to experiment with honeybee mutations. Isn’t that right, Jarvis? And in the process he has discovered a way to alter the chemical composition of the honeycomb. It looks and tastes like honey, but too much of it is deadly.

            Veranassessee turned to Jarvis. You knew this Jarvis …. but then why leave it in the fridge … and why warn me?

            Wasn’t me left it in the fridge. I saw it there earlier. I figured the Doctor left it there. Buggered if I know why. He’s an odd one that one. Getting odder by the minute too.

            A loud clattering outside and they all turned.

            Winds getting up quickly, said Agent Gabriele in clipped tones. Secure the hives Jarvis. God knows we don’t need mutated bees on the loose. V tell the guests to stay in their rooms and away from the windows, and then meet me in my room. I’ll deal with the Doctor.

            :fleuron:

            Bloody windy here aint it. Thought I was coming to a bloody tropical paradise! Mavis was looking outside anxiously.

            Oh this aint typical. The weathers been grand. We’ve been out bloody sun baking most days.

            Oh we have! The sun and airs got special beauty qualities here. That Vessie told us that. Encourages us to get out and about.

            Ere I know what will cheer you up. Lets get a snack from the kitchen. There’s some special ureu beauty biscuits in the pantry, and the chocolate brownies are bloody delicious. Who’d have thought chocolate had special beauty qualities eh. She’s a genius that Vassie. Oh I tell you what, I found some lovely honeycomb in the fridge this morning! Sharon licked her lips in anticipation.

            Oh I’m bloody drooling here, Sha! You’re a bloody genius you are

            #1918
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              T: if I can get the eggletons into the story I’ll be all set
              F: well the oogletons are in the story
              F: in the ooh dimension
              T: I need a new characters who are doing the eggletons story, thats what I need
              T: yes
              F: oh well cool
              F: and i will mock them in the oogleton thread then
              F: that will be fun
              T: yes, that will slide me easily back in
              T: to the story
              F: yes
              T: and the eggletons can then relate to various other threads
              T: which was the key point
              F: :yahoo_rofl:
              T: about new threads
              T: :yahoo_rofl:
              F: yes, do what you love and fuck the rest
              T: hahahahah
              F: basically was the key point
              T: yes1
              T: that it exactly
              T: attention to self
              F: oh yes
              F: much nicer
              T: if its not fun dont do it
              T: it matters not

              #841

              Jarvis was dozing in a dark corner of the kitchen. He was dreaming of bees, he had been assigned to the bee keeping a few weeks ago, just after the “incident”. He was one man the Dr could trust. In a previous life, he was keeping bees as a family business. But an accident with the bees led to his dismissal by his uncle. A regrettable accident, too much smoke, too much dead bees. Jarvis had been thinking of a sabotage, surely he had been framed but as he was thinking of quiting this poor paid job, it was also a perfect occasion.

              He had been engaged as a security agent… sort of. He had to pretend to be a gardener and not awake suspicion among the others. The funny thing is that he had soon been contacted by another organization, and had been offered quite a good price. All he had to do was observe and dream. Unfortunately, the man, Claude, who had approached him was disguised as a patient… and he had disappeared after the “incident”. Since then Jarvis had been having strange dreams of mummies, magpies, there was even one with 3 eyes 2 nights ago :yahoo_waiting:

              The light was turned on abruptly. Someone was arriving, still hidden by the tables and shelves.
              With the sound of the heels on the tiled floor, that was a woman… or the Doctor.
              A little twinge told him not to let him be noticed yet. He moved his head silently in a position from which he could see who it was.
              Oh! that big athletic woman, Vasse.
              Claude had told him about her. Jarvis had to be very cautious, because she was of another organization… another :cat_confused: he was calling her agent V. Well Jarvis wasn’t curious enough to ask any further detail, there were already too much to remember.

              She was doing something with a little jar of a brown substance, and brought a spoon full at her mouth. Her sudden coughing and spitting almost made him fall off his chair. But hopefully with all the noise she hadn’t noticed. Mumbling, she was heading toward the fridge. Was she possibly aware of…

              Yes! she was taking the plate with the honeycomb… he’d have to move quickly.
              As she was considering the modified honeycomb, he realized that she was about to eat it. So she didn’t know. :-? He had to warn her.

              — I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, Agent V…

              #840

              You have summoned us, Master Tfark
              Yes, young Piawan

              The magpie known as Robert X was standing in front of a glowing bluish light emitted by a glass ball full of sand nearly as big as the gnome standing before it.
              Inside the ball, one could distinguish a century-old-looking figure, so fat it was almost indiscernible from the pile of cushions on which he was seated in a lotus-like posture. On the forehead of the Master, a third eye was visible, its gaze piercing you through your flesh.

              How is our matter proceeding, Hex?
              Well enough, Master. All preliminary stakeout has taken place according to the plans. We are only waiting for the right conditions to strike and rob the item without being noticed.
              Very well, Hex…

              The three-eyed Master Tfark scratched his chin pensively.

              A convenient surge of atmospheric energy is coming your way, I suppose you are aware. I hope that you’ll make good use of this. Our clients are very eager to get this item back
              Yes, Master. You shall not be disappointed.

              And with that, the communication was ended.

              Robert X stood in front of the now inert communication device, visibly preoccupied.

              Sir, you didn’t mention the disappearance of our guest, did you? asked Robert K
              There is nothing yet to report. Let’s do the job and we can quickly leave this place. Next inter-dimensional window will be opened a few moments after the cyclone, that should work out perfectly.
              Sir, yes Sir. Ready to lift the energy cloak as soon as we are ready to strike.
              Perfect then… Remember, without the energy cloak, we’ll have to solely rely on our magpies shifted appearances.
              I know that Sir, this is not my first mission, Sir.
              Very well then. Is there something else?
              There is another thing, Sir.
              What?!
              Some trouble with the bee-keeper I fear

              #838
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                West Cork, Ireland, Summer of 2051

                As she walked along the rocky trail bordering the coast where occasionally whales could be seen at a distance, she was humming deep sounds and harmonies in the damp air filled with the echoes of the cool wind.

                She was aware of distant focuses of herself, living around that place. Past focuses, in that land of the druidesses and druids, and another one, closer to her, in some probable future. Like this other focus, she loved the whales too, and she was able to communicate with her. Catherine Wrick would have loved to be able to live in such a crystalline place she could envision with her eyes closed.

                Her woolen black coat would let the wind insinuate itself through the layers of clothes, and she was starting to feel a little cold now. Temperatures were colder than they used to be in the past, and even now in summer, they would rarely go higher than 15°C. It was time to get back home. She whistled Merlu, her golden labrador, back, and still nestled into her dream-like attention, slowly walked towards her house.

                :fleuron:

                In the comfort of her dome house, she started to leaf through the messages and reminders that she had in a pile on the bed table. Nothing much of interest, except that in a few months time, it would be the first birthday of the twins

                Her step-mother Dorean had sent her two books, when she had learned of the birth of the twins. They were to return to them, when they would be seven, she’d say.
                Why seven?, she’d asked… Dorean had answered that seven was the perfect age for them to get them back —their intuitive abilities would still had much potential, and they would be mature enough to understand and use the books. It was no use for herself to keep the books any longer.

                As she was going to sit in her antique rocking chair for a smoke, Catherine noticed a faint cracking sound. Perhaps Merlu was playing with those hard-boiled eggs she’d been painting recently, without much success, to try to reproduce the perfect glowing green colour of her grandfa… Another crack. She stopped and listened again.
                It couldn’t be Merlu: the dog was now barking.

                She started to wonder Could it be?… After all those years of keeping them…

                The sound was definitely coming from the reading room where the big eggs were put on display…

                #834

                Five months.
                If he recalled well, it was barely five months (five months and five days perhaps) he’d had that dream… Yurick was thinking distractedly, while munching on his toast of vegemoth, crumbs falling in his cup of lotus flavoured tuo-cha.
                Only five months! It had felt like ages had passed, lifetimes even…
                Energy realisations went really fast these days, once the prime idea was here. And for sure it had been floating around for quite some time, but truly it had been a quick birthing, and rather painless too.

                He was suddenly brought to his sense —and a certain idea of reality— when he saw Dory’s chat window flicker. He almost spluttered his tea on the screen as he saw the egg pictures she had just posted on her new social playground. A dark website of kinky appearance, where her new friends would probably guess eggs where her fetish and fifty-seven an exotic tantric position they’d be blissfully whipped with a wisp of fresh nettles to get taught.
                Well energy could take many shapes and forms, and for sure, five months ago, he wouldn’t have guessed one of these forms would be vegemoth and oval-shaped sex-toys.

                Speaking of vegemoth, he smiled as he saw the level of the dark brown salty paste noticeably diminishing in the small jar. Since he and Yann had been initiated by Dory to that strange Australian shamanic drug, and the unknown pleasures and twisted dream and trance induction it provides, they had been surprised to find it legally displayed for sell on their usual store at the exotic-mysterious-and-potentially-lethal-Eastern-products shelf. Along with an even stronger version of it, they’d been told… MARMOTH that Yann had consented they would get after the vegemoth would be eaten.

                Ahahaha… At that rate, that would happen before they know it!

                #833
                Jib
                Participant

                  The low vibration of his didjeridoo was filling up the room. His apartment in NYC was wide open, and a fresh breeze was caressing his naked arms. Sam had learn how to circular breathe in order to play the didjeridoo while he was in Australia. He loved the sound of it, the vibration passing from the hollow trunk through his arms, his mouth, his whole body.
                  His didjeridoo was undecorated as he was more interested by the sound than by its appearance. A clear E flat.

                  Sam was playing around with the sounds he could do with this instrument, a blending of harmonics and of seeming animal cries. He was also introducing sounds that he connected to various friends of his. His open windows had let some bees in the apartment. The rhythm of his music and the rhythm of the fly of the insects were creating a kind of pattern that was hypnotic, and he soon felt his body expand as he was keeping on playing and breathing.

                  He was letting more of his awareness of other energies and he could see that among his friends were various people from the aboriginal tribes he had met during his trip, and also the Nanaconda.

                  #1794

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Here is the answer to this rabbit bijou sync riddle

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                  • — “Dory?” — “What, hon’?” a distracted Dory answered to young Becky — “You’d better remove the magnets from the iron, or you’ll ruin another one…” — “What are you talking about?!” Dory was perplexed, trying to find her way through the airport to Gate 57-¾, but only to find nothing but benches in between Gate 57 ... · ID #1135 (continued)
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