Search Results for 'let'

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  • #264
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      India Louise wrapped the big rusty key up in leopard spotted wrapping paper and tied it up with ribbon. She’d been invited to Eugenia’s birthday party, and she was excited. To be truthful, she was looking forward to meeting Oscar just as much as she was looking forward to the jelly and ice cream, trifles, and smarties.

      Oscar was a parrot, who had appeared one day at Eugenia’s bedroom window. He’d tapped the glass with his beak repeatedly until Eugenia opened the window and let him in.

      #261

      In searching for a sheet of paper to do some sketches of images going through his mind, Bill found an old poem he had started a long time ago, when he was feeling like he was completely transforming himself. He had not finished the poem, but had kept it all along…

      It said:

      I’ve been wandering through the valleys of death
      Where time knows no ending and all is gray
      And shadows seek nothing but oblivion itself
      In mazes of mist, minds’ errands led astray…

      Perhaps it was time to let go of useless things, Bill thought to himself.

      He watched the paper slowly smoldering and shrinking and falling to black and white cinders into the hearth.

      :fleuron:

      Before going to sleep that night, Quintin had the sensation of Janice’s presence. He was surprised, because she was no longer the little girl he had seen at times, but she was a very pretty young woman, with dark wavy hair.

      She had giggled at his surprise, telling him that yes, she was catching up with him…

      :fleuron:

      The City, year 2255 (%)

      Today was Janice’s birthday, but not her birthday as the Ancients, two and half a century from her time, would have counted it. It was counted from the time of the conception, as the future parents in this time were fully aware of the agreements they would have with the soul they would decide to give birth to.

      It was a reminder of this agreement between the parents and the child that was celebrated, and not the actual birth date.

      Janice had felt Cyprus’ presence quite strongly, and she decided to let herself open to the subjective communication. She was conversing with her friend Qixi, and sent her some energy to let her know she would probably remove her attention for a few moments, knowing she would be accepting.

      When she closed her eyes, she could immediately feel herself engulfed by the strong yet smooth energy of Cyprus; it was like being kissed by a swarm of blue sparkling butterflies.

      Then she opened her eyes.

      She was in an ancient classroom, with Cyprus focused as a teacher figure. Cyprus was seated behind her desk and came at once to great Janice.

      — Good morning!
      — Good morning Cyprus, you wanted to say something to me?
      — In actuality, you wanted me to tell you something, answered Cyprus with a mysterious smile.
      — Yes, I thought so. Is it about what I am choosing to do as an activity?
      — Correct.
      — You are aware that I want to be creating of worlds, and give them to people that would have commissioned them…
      — Yes, I am aware. And you wanted me to highlight some misconceptions about that.
      — Oh, misconceptions?
      — Yes. As you know, with these worlds that you create, you have infinite potential of explorations. You also know that they are not independent from the rest, even when you take great care of encapsulating them in an energy field. And as such, they are not cut-off from yourself, as soon as you deliver them.
      — It feels like a tremendous responsibility.
      — It is, and it is not. The responsibility is to yourself, as always. But, I wanted you to be aware that you hold some responsibility, to examine your own injections into these worlds that you create, so that you can be neutralizing what is not desired, and not merely hiding it deeper inside the world itself.
      — OK, I will do that…
      — Ahaha, there is another thing, my dear.
      — Oooh…
      — You also wanted me to make sure you understood what I meant.
      — Ahahaha, I see. Wiggling out won’t be as easy as I thought, Janice said with a smile. So, is it the reason for this classroom?
      — Nothing is hidden from you, as always.

      So Janice took a look at the sheet of paper on top of her own school desk.

      — I’ll be around if you need me, reassured Cyprus.
      — Thank you, said Janice

      The paper was like a spot test, with a few questions on it.

      :fleuron2:

      Study on a Few Contradictory Beliefs

      1. GUILT

      a. An old lord has lost contact with his son, because of harsh things said in the past.

      Write a short story about him realizing how guilt is not effective, and how past can be changed from the point of present by direct action.

      b. Detail the main beliefs you can see associated with this action of guilt.

      2. FEAR

      a. A man chooses to be disengaging by drowning in a river. During his transition, he faces his fears, helped in that by a friendly spirit. The fears take the forms of a forest of trees, all similar, with branches and malicious roots extending to him. In his previous life, the man thought he was a fool, as an excuse to stand out of the numb crowd. But now he faces this crowd again, only to be able to go on his journey and let go.

      Write a short paragraph about his journey. Place yourself from the perspective of both him and the friendly spirit guiding him through his fears, and see how he helps himself in realizing he does not need to push the fears away, and that they can disappear easily.

      b. Detail the beliefs associated with his madness, that he needs to let go of in order to be crossing the forest, and go to the Bridge of Daffoldils that leads to his cave of Self.

      DUPLICITY

      In association with the last two examples, detail how duplicity (belief in good versus bad) is influencing of each of the actions, and can be neutralised by accepting self and trusting that you shall not betray yourself.

      :fleuron:

      Janice gave her paper to Cyprus, who took it and held it for a moment, evaluating the answers.

      Cyprus then made it burst into a bluish dancing flame, and when the paper had disappeared, smiled at Janice lovingly.

      #260
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        Arona and Mandrake sat side by side looking into the glass ball filled with sand. They had been practising for some time, and had both become quite proficient at shifting the sand.

        So what shall we make now Mandrake? Something we both like maybe?

        A fish perhaps? suggested Mandrake

        Oh excellent idea! and no sooner was it thought of than the sand would shift accordingly.

        Scrambled eggs I think too, on chunks of homemade bread, said the still hungry Arona, and chocolate!

        Some milk for me, said Mandrake

        Hmmm not sure about that Mandrake. Lots of cats have allergies to cows milk.

        Mandrake rolled his eyes And chocolate might make you fat, he said, but was I so rude as to mention it? and Mandrake created a hairy cow, and a farmer to milk the cow.

        Arona laughed, and created a little sand langoat, just in case the stubborn Mandrake changed his mind. Langoat’s milk would be much better for him she thought.

        The glass ball was now filled with a miniature world of sand objects.

        Arona leaned back against the wall and stroked Mandrake. She felt very fond of the grumpy cat. The feeling of being able to create whatever she wanted had been fun. Perhaps, she thought, her creations were rather rudimental at this stage, but then already she could feel bigger things brewing within her as her confidence grew. She felt as though the sand game had focused her, like a beam of light which shone only on that which was intended.

        Arona closed her eyes and allowed her mind to open and reach out, something she knew she had always been able to do easily, but her fear of the “madness” had made her cautious and hide these abilities, till she became unsure of them. The “madness” was the term the people in her Village had given to the poor wretched wandering ones, who claimed to hear voices and communicate with Gods. Once as a child she had seen the Villagers drive one of these poor souls from the Village, shouting and abusing him. She did not really understand what he had done, only that the Villagers were afraid of him. So Arona had felt it was better to keep some things to herself.

        Arona left her mind open and allowed images to enter. Some of the images she did not understand, and she let them flow on, enjoying the energy of them notwithstanding. She saw a dragon, it was not the one with the mouthful of riddles, but another one, a baby one she felt. Her ability to see pictures was quite rusty, but she felt a connection with this baby dragon and a great fondness for it.

        She felt a great peacefulness in her body, a knowledge that walking in the world of magic would be easier from now on

        #259

        Jadra slept fitfully. He was in the forest and he dreamed of a great tidal wave sweeping over him. He was holding on for dear life to the branches of a tree while angry faces swept by him in the water, shouting abuse at him, although he could not make out the words.

        “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” he shouted back.

        But then, to his horror he saw his left hand separate from his arm and he could no longer hold on. He saw his hand being swept out to sea and all that mattered was that he find it again. He let to of the safety of the tree and felt himself being pulled by the waves.

        Jadra awoke trembling and shaking in terror. He looked for his left hand on the end of his arm, where it should be, but he could not see it. He knew what had happened. He had thrown his hand in the river. He thought it was sticks and stones he had thrown in, but he had been mistaken. He knew that now. He had to go and find his hand in the river.

        Jadra felt such anguish. Not so clever Jadra Iamaman. You stupid old Fool

        Forgive me! he shouted to the Gods. Whimpering in pain he rushed back the way he had come, back through the forest to the spot where he had last seen his hand. He threw himself into the water and dived down deep, not caring he could not swim, only knowing his hand was in there somewhere.

        ***

        There were very few people around that early in the morning, but a small boy saw Jadra go in the water and stood watching. He waited and waited, and when he knew for sure there was something wrong he raised the alarm.

        ***

        Jadra felt a great peacefulness sweep over him. He stopped fighting and abandoned himself to the mighty current of the water. A unicorn swam by him in the water and whispered to him she would take him to safely home.

        ***

        They pulled Jadra’s body from the water a mile down river.

        #258
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          India Louise sat at the end of the extraordinarily long oak dinner table. A tiny figure engrossed in some drawing. The morning sun shone in the window, brightening the otherwise dark room.

          Lord Wrick walked in, not seeming to see India Louise at first. He held a letter in his hand, and some old newspaper clippings. He sat down heavily at the table, opened the letter, and read it. After reading it, he sat staring into space for a long while.

          India Louise looked up from her drawing.

          What is wrong Grandpa? You look sad. She walked over to him and hugged him. See look at this. Look at my drawing of a flower, perhaps that will cheer you up. The painter Bill has been showing me how to use these paint sticks and also how to use my mind to help make the painting have life.

          It is beautiful India Louise.

          What did the letter say Grandpa. Why is it making you so sad?

          It is just an old letter, India Louise.

          Yes it looks very old. Was it bad news?

          Just reminds me of things I wish I had said a long time ago, said her great grandfather, Regret is an awful curse

          The little girl hugged him again. Yes it sounds awful. I think I will draw another flower for you grandpa.

          He smiled. Thank you India Louise. I will be back soon. I will put the letter away now.

          Yes, put it away now. I can’t see any point looking at it if it makes you sad, and then come and see the flower I will draw for you.

          Lord Wrick walked over to the bookshelves and reached up. There was a tin on the top shelf. He opened the tin and got out an old key.

          He walked down the passage way, to the right and then down some stairs leading to the cellar. There was a door, which had not been opened for some time, and he had to use some force to get the key to work in the lock.

          The room was dark, musty, mostly full of what would seem to be junk, which had been thrown there when people did not know what else was to be done with it. There was an old chest of drawers against one wall. He pulled open the top draw, fingering gently some of the items, more old letters, a feather, some pebbles, a diary, some old paintings and photos. He knew each object had a life of it’s own, memories which create worlds. He added the letter and the newspaper article.

          As he left the room, he wondered whether to lock the door again, and decided not to. He had a funny feeling within himself as he made this decision to leave it open, a shift, as though his simple decision had changed things, somehow.

          Silly old fool he thought, laughing at himself. He would go and see the flower that India Louise was drawing for him.

          #257

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

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

          :fleuron:

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

          Tina was taken aback…

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

          :fleuron:

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

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

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

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

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

          Wow he had thought, she can really see.

          :fleuron:

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

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

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

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

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

          :fleuron:

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

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

          :fleuron:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          #248

          New York, October, 4 th 2033

          Albert had opened the newspaper, scanning distractedly through the various pages of text that would read aloud automatically when he was running his fingers through it. He was about to close it, when he noticed that article in the Life Focus section.

          (click for article)

          :fleuron:

          Dublin, October 5 th 2033

          Sean Doran Wrick had received tons of phone calls, emails and voice mails of condolences since the past few weeks, but he had not found the strength to answer any of them. Especially those coming from his father.

          That morning, he had received some letters that he would have left on top of the others, had he not recognized the round and cheerful calligraphy of Becky on one of them.

          He had known Becky when they had traveled together in Syria, and had enjoyed so much the lively young woman that they had kept in touch during all those years.

          He was pleased to read from her, and wanted to enjoy it fully.

          So he took his time to put to bed Guinevere and Peregrine before. Guinevere was the eldest, very mature for her barely 11 year old. She took great care of her younger brother, who was more dreamy and foolish. Peregrine would turn 10 next March… but he was hardly as responsible as his sister when she was his age…

          Dear Sean, Becky was writing

          I would have liked to finally take the time to write to you in better conditions, but I could not delay any longer. I saw the obituary in the newspaper, and wanted you to know that I share your grief and loss, and extend much love and support to you and to your dear little ones.

          I know you’re not the kind of person to be satisfied with banalities, so I will not dwell on this tragedy, and will remember the best moments we shared together.

          I still continue my studies and practices on dramatherapy, and till now it has proved very beneficial, in many ways. I have learned so many things. It’s quite rewarding. We are a close-knit group of fools (or drôles as Al loves to say, as some of his ancestors come from the bayous!), and that is very much enjoyable when things that tragic come to one’s reality.

          In case you feel like talking, don’t hesitate any moment, I’ll be here. Anytime.

          Love,

          Becky.

          :fleuron:

          Orkney Islands, October 4 th, 2057

          This year again, Sean Doran had not answered his father’s calls.

          This September 23 th was the twenty fourth anniversary of the disengagement of Lord Wrick’s daughter-in-law, and this was always a very somber period for the family.

          Hopefully, the twins were here to enliven the old mansion, for as long as their parents, Lord Wrick’s grand-children, would be traveling. And of course, there had been the unexpected return of the books, which had been comforting too.

          Nonetheless, Hilarion Wrick was sad, and Bill the painter was uneasy as to how he could not quite put right the portrait of the old dragon…

          #246

          Huÿgens was not much of a cat person.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          And off she was… free and unfettered as a gripshawk

          ***

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

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

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

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

          #240
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            ‘I will tell you’, the voice was saying, ‘that the reason you are looking for is probably right under your nose’.

            Sanso wondered who the voice in his head belonged to. He heard voices all the time, so many different ones, and he often didn’t know one from another.

            ‘You might need to step back in order to let it come into focus’….

            #238

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            #236
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Arona hummed happily to herself. She felt so light without the cape and the tunnel was bathed in the gentle light of many glukenitches. Mandrake the cat followed along too, much to Arona’s delight, although she was a little hesitant to tell this to the grumpy cat

              Magic magic magic magic she hummed to herself

              Arona almost skipped along the tunnel, and, so wrapped up was she in thoughts of magic, that she tripped and fell heavily, hurting her left hand as she put it out to save herself

              Ouch, hells bells and warty wizards, she muttered, for it did hurt quite considerably… and then she had some scarey thoughts. She looked around and realised that really, the fact of the matter was, undeniably, that she was still lost in the darkish tunnel.

              What if I don’t believe in magic? and her happy mood plummeted.

              Oh fuch, she swore, and sat down on the cave floor. FUCH FUCH FUCH FUCH she shouted as loud as she possibly could, and in fact hurt her throat a little in the process and quite possibly the sensitive ears of many glukenitches.

              This blessed cave is doing my head in. I want to see the sunshine, or the rain, no matter, I don’t care what the weather is doing I JUST WANT TO BE OUT OF THIS CAVE.

              Ooops that was rather loud

              After coaxing Mandrake back, as he had retreated quite some distance at her outburst, she sat down and put her head in her hands and tried to think. Did she believe in magic? Well of course she had no choice. Life without magic was inconceivable to her.

              She felt a familiar tiredness sweep over her as she struggled to work it out. Perhaps I will just have a small sleep before I continue, and she curled up on the ground, wishing she had her heavy black cape to wrap around her.

              As she gave up the struggle and let sleep come she heard some soft words

              It’s easy Arona … magic is easy … it is the thread linking all to all

              ************

              A short while later she woke from her sleep, feeling refreshed and ready to continue.

              #235
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                Fiona :) ed as she read the latest updates on Quintin’s website.

                *** *** *** *** ***

                She felt the strong presence of her evil twin as she found herself compelled to play with some of the new features. :face-devil-grin:

                *** ***

                She hoped this would not make Quintin feel :( as really it had nothing to do with the story.

                Or did it :-/

                *** ***

                Of course he can always delete it if he wants, she thought happily :D or make some rules, to stop this sort of thing happening in the future. ;)

                *** ***

                :yahoo_big_hug:

                #232

                A few days after Sam and Becky’s conversation on the phone, they were having a rehearsal.

                Just at the moment when they felt stuck again, despite Sam’s moves, Al and Tina, a couple of friends came crashing into the small theater room, and were greeted by an icy cold silence. “Icy” is an exaggeration of course, said Tina, “it just meant I had to put a jacket on again today”.

                Sorry for being late! said Al a bit uneasy.
                — Oh you and your uneasiness! said Tina. And I’m sure we’re arriving at the perfect time.
                — Oh, well, I’m not sure of anything today, said Becky. I’m sick of being force-fed coleslaw, and rigging down holes for myself.

                A silence was on the scene.

                :fleuron:

                At the same time, somewhere on the deck of his ship, Bådul was remembered of the landscapes of his land. He had not really appreciated them before, but now, he was finding them dear to him. They were for the most part a mixture of sandy dunes, from which at times peaks of icy rocky mountains would stick out. Lately he had felt like one of these peaks sticking out of the sands. The sands were shifting.

                :fleuron:

                Somewhere in Malvina’s cave.

                Malvina had been polishing the last dry eggs that she had found and that would not hatch. One of them had some interesting perfect round shape, and a very transparent shell, and it gave her an idea.

                She asked Leörmn to come.

                :fleuron:

                Quintin’s bedroom.

                [1:01] The clock was saying. Quintin had just awoken from a dream about an elderly woman who was showing him some drawings. These were not actually drawings, but in fact, they were called by the lady “glassart”. It was made, she said, of coloured sands, and would be vitrified by some flame. Quintin in that dream had thought the designs rather crude, but had found the idea interesting, and with great potential.

                :fleuron:

                Leörmn came almost instantly, appearing in a puff of teal smoke.

                Oh, I see… he said, reading Malvina’s mind. And I think I have the perfect sands to go with it.

                :fleuron:

                — Why hasn’t that pirate, Badass…
                Badul, corected Al
                — Whatever, Becky pursued imperturbably, that pirate Baddock used traveling portals to go and look for the eggs? Why the seas? Sounds a bit complicated and with lots of dangers too.
                — Good question, answered Al. Well, don’t want to answer for everyone, but in my perception…
                — Oh, get lost with your “in my perception” thing, that’s becoming tiring… sighed Tina
                — OK. So, for me, they have forgotten much about magic in his land.
                — Makes sense… added Sam dreamily… In fact, I’m not sure after all that Badul is only after gold. I think he has found some old desert dragon egg in a cave lost in his country and hopes to revive it, with the help of the people who still know about magic.
                — Which would explain the quest… said Al
                — Yeah, and he would have hidden that to the rest of the crew, probably… said Tina

                :fleuron:

                Leörmn had now finished assembling the magical artifact.

                — That’s one of our most beautiful magical artifact I’d say, Malvina gleamed
                — Oh yes it is. And how would you call it?
                — Let’s see…

                :fleuron:

                sabulmantium !

                Everyone cracked up at the word that Al had just blurted out. They had decided to have some distraction to alleviate the stress on the play, and they had a fun improvisation game, saying stupid things that went through their minds.

                — Hey! Don’t laugh like that, it’s something very serious actually, said Al tongue-in-cheek. Let me see…
                — Hahahaha, the others continued
                — Well, it’s a divination device, or a sort of compass in a way. I see it as a globe made of glass, with coloured sands in it, and when you focus on it, the sands take all sorts of three dimensional shapes, and become alive…
                — Wow! Tina couldn’t help but say.

                :fleuron:

                Leörmn, as Malvina had been telling him (or vice versa), had put the sabulmantium in one of the tunnels, to a place where he knew Arona would find it, and probably put it to good use for her future adventures.

                #231

                HAHAHA! it is your first step now. Let me just remind you that you need not play MY game, the game is yours, ever.” said Georges.

                Dory was feeling a bit confused now. What was he talking about, what game? And first step to what? She couldn’t hold to the anger nor the irritation; all of that was feeling not real or not here, or not there for all she knew.

                “The direction you follow is your choice, and where I come from is not relevant to this conversation. You may say I come from yourself :) and indeed you called me and I wanted company. Do you want more coleslaw?”

                Without waiting for her answer he refilled her plate with the tasty food.

                All those smells,… she could feel so many different things, things that appeared not to be here. A movement caught her attention in her periphery. As she turned her gaze whatever was there had vanished. And this humming, it was like music, but not very clear… if she could just focus more on it, yes like that, she was feeling sooo calm and she began laughing.

                “Hahahah… haha. Did you drug the coleslaw?” She asked, trying to appear angry and unhappy, but all she could do was smile and laugh.

                The images around her were shape-shifting, there were many colors, some of them she didn’t know could be possible, the walls were melting of sort and becoming transparent, or just fluid maybe…

                “Well you see how it’s easy to relax. Let’s see where you want to go now my dear Rafaela”, he said winking.

                And everything turned into a great maelström but she felt secure and could feel his presence reassuring, and there were all those other faces and places, some felt very familiar, had she ever been there before?

                #230

                Illi had not known as powerful an opponent as this other Illi.

                At first, she had been remembered of stories of possession by evil sprites (or djinns) that she had heard in her youth, when Ibn al’ Gruk, the old angora storyteller was entertaining the desert settlement beating the rhythm with sonorous drums.

                So, she had pushed, and rebelled, and fought, as fiercely as any other gripshawk skilled and trained in the hand-to-hand martial arts would have done.

                But the other Illi wasn’t so easily vanquished.

                Then Illi had collapsed. She had sorrowfully abandoned the fight to the dreaded adversary.

                All of this had been occurring in a twinkle of an eye, but for Illi, the fight had been during ages and ages, while she was trying to focus on what BelleDora was explaining to her about the land where she was now.

                And when she had abandoned the fight, everything was again so easy. She did not care any longer, she was free again. Her evil twin could do anything, it could not matter less.

                But the evil twin had been in fact doing the same, and she had struggled to keep the focus coherent to her. Didn’t want stupid moth-looking people in her reality, or even spare hair on her face! But that other one was strong, and fierce. And stubborned too!

                — Who are you? she finally had asked
                — I’m Illi, had the other answered
                — I am Illi.
                — So we are both Illi
                — Yeah, that may be it, but we are quite different.
                — Are we? You feel quite like me, despite your stupid affection for smooth baby face.
                — Well, wouldn’t it be for that, I can see some resemblance…
                — Will you let me continue my trip?
                — Oh, I would have, but you’ve hijacked mine, said Illi Fergusson.
                — So you think.
                — And where does your trip leads to? asked Illi F. who wasn’t too sure of her trip either
                — From traveling portals to traveling portals, to discover all that can be discovered on this world. Magical creatures, I distrust them, but the lands and people are fascinating… And what about yours?
                — Hmm, hmm, pondered Illi F. for a moment… Well, I’m dead actually, but I didn’t expect being dead to be so busy. There are so many things to discover, and I like that. I see funny looking people, and this looks like fun. Like a minute ago, I was in some kind of funny cave, with a parrot…
                — A what?
                — A parrot, you know, a kind of talking bird full of colours…
                — Mmm, some kind of demonic creature for sure. Would have slain it without an hesitation!
                — Hey! You see, that’s why I didn’t want you to come with me.
                — Well, seems like for a moment, we don’t have much more choice…
                — At least, look at the bright side, with us merged like that, each of us can provide the other one with some sound experience on each other’s worlds.
                — Well, that’s not as airy-fairy as it seems…
                — Well, thank you for that, I’ll take that as a compliment.
                — You really are dreadfully serious at times!
                — Hey, I’m not anybody you see. My parents were aristocrats, I’m not the common hairy lot.
                — Ahahah, you’re funny.
                — So are you!

                And they ended laughing blissfully together.

                After a moment, Illi asked again:

                — Huh, a funny cave you said?
                — Well, yes. With lots of people…
                — Interesting… I was near some sort of strange cave too a while ago, that is, before I was found by this nice man and his dogs. Perhaps there is some connection here.
                — And could you go there again?
                — Not sure if I want to; there were some smelly fumes, smelt like demonic magic in there.
                — Oh you see, for as long as I’ve been dead, well even if that’s not so long ago, anyway, the point is I’ve not seen any demon so far… blustered Illi F.
                — Oh, and I have to take your word like that then?
                — Well, do as you please, but I’m going there again…
                — Just wait for me now, will you; let’s try to do things hand in hand, because you’re driving me mad!

                And the deal was made.

                BelleDora had continued to explain lots of things about her ancestors, but had not really noticed Illi’s attention had been so far away. She was a bit surprised when she found herself interrupted in a middle of a poetic depiction of the coastal plains of the Peninsula of the Dragon Head, where some glistening Capricorns were sometimes seen swimming in the creeks.

                — And how do I get back safely to this hole where I was found? asked Illi abruptly.

                #224

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

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

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

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

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

                India Louise took a moment, and asked again

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

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

                — Areas of consciousness?

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

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

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

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

                #213
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Dory slept all the way to the cave, dreaming about being a traffic policeman. It was one of those never ending hopelessly chaotic dreams, in which small bits of progress were immediately cancelled out by an influx of more of whatever the problem was. The more she blew her whistle and ranted at the cars, the worse the cars became entangled.

                  You! You there, go THAT way! NO not that way…OY YOU! keep to the left…keep in line there keep in line…OY NOT THAT WAY!

                  Ususally in dreams like this Dory woke up in the middle of the frustration and chaos, but this time the dream changed course abruptly. Dory simply walked away from her podium in the middle of the busy Italian intersection.

                  Let them all go wherever they bloody well like, she said. Not my responsibility.

                  When Dory woke up, the van had arrived at the cave, she was feeling refreshed and cheerful, and was looking forward to her excursion inside the cave.

                  #212
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    Fiona wandered slowly along the road to the supermarket in the Village, deep in thought, pondering a recent dream. In her dream she had been talking to someone from the power company. He was very chatty. Eventually he asked her if she had any issues with her power service. In her dream she had started to focus on some electricity issues she was experiencing. Well as a matter of fact I do, she had replied. At which point the man from the power company had abruptly cut the call short.

                    In her dream she felt a little put out, although resolved to let the power company know later.

                    The message of the dream felt clear enough, it was her focusing on the difficulties which cut her connection. Yet this presented Fiona with some difficulty, because she dearly loved to analyse even when this did mean focusing on not so pleasant things, though she had been aware for some time how this mental work would deplete her energy.

                    Actually there was almost a feeling of grieving in her. To let go of this part of her felt like losing something warm and comforting in it’s familiarity, like a well worn and loved article of clothing. It left her wondering a bit about her own identity.

                    On the way back home, laden with bags of shopping, Fiona saw Jarrod.

                    Jarrod was lying on a park bench conversing loudly to himself. Well, Fiona mentally corrected herself, to someone I can’t see anyway.

                    They just don’t understand reality he was saying vehemently they just don’t get it.

                    Fiona smiled to herself, noticing Jarrod getting a few concerned looks from the well dressed locals. With his bare feet, unkempt hair and long beard he would stand out even if he wasn’t shouting at the top of his voice. She decided to try and sneak past herself, he looked like maybe today he would not recognise her anyway.

                    FIONA!

                    She turned back.

                    Hey Jarrod

                    Fiona, here’s the thing. Here’s the question okay. Should we swim up-stream or down? Fiona what do you think? Should we head for the Source or the Ocean? Up river or down? We’re on the edge of a new era Fiona. So what will it be, the shallows or the rapids?

                    Before she needed to come up with an answer Jarrod’s attention was diverted by the shopping bags.

                    FOOD! Great is that for me Fiona?

                    #207
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      Fiona had just received another rambling note from Dory, and was feeling rather bemused and perplexed.

                      Dory’s notes seemed to make less and less sense. The worst thing was that lately Quintin and Yann appeared to be following her lead. Of course she could be mistaken, the difference in language could be confusing things .. and there was all the merging they had been doing lately which meant they usually spoke in riddles. Fiona spoke very little French, just a few handy phrases such as “hello” and “butt”.

                      But as for Dory

                      Fiona was a kindhearted person and tolerant of others. But these tales Dory was spinning appeared to be increasingly bizarre and nonsensical. Endless beginnings which never seemed to lead anywhere.

                      Am I being too rational? Fiona wondered, always humbly willing to accept her own shortcomings, or “dark corners” as Quintin liked to describe them.

                      One day, after a particularly outrageous note from Dory about an orgy in her kitchen with 57 Italians she had to cook for, Fiona felt compelled to gently and tactfully question Dory.

                      You are just out for revenge, Dory had hissed at her. It’s just a dream, I think … hmmmmm or am I a dream … or is it all a dream ….. I will go and ask Archie! and off she had dashed in a flurry of colourful shawls.

                      Bugger this, thought Fiona. Revenge had been the last thing on her sweet natured mind. With no more housework left to complete, she decided to go for a walk to the nearby cafe to take her mind from all this madness.

                      #202
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        Jacqueline Bleomelen was a strict yet very affectionate nanny. Her Breton name being barely pronounceable by the English speaking kids she had at her charge, she was most of the time simply called Nanny.

                        Once, one of the rude kids from a previous home where she had been serving an atrociously callous French Count, had called her an Old Gibbon, referring to her wrinkled face. But she had a very light-hearted nature, and wouldn’t show any hint of taking offense.

                        Better, she liked the association with the playful and ingenious apes, and kept the moniker as it was more easily pronounced by the English kids she had in charge, and made them laugh that they could be so irreverent without facing punishment.

                        For special occasions, Jacqueline was wearing a funny costume that made the children often wonder why she had put some funny hat with little moth-feelers loose on her chin, but that, she had explained was a traditional dress from her homeland of Brittany.

                        Tonight, Jacqueline, or Nanny Gibbon, was having a funny dream, but perhaps that have been because she had been very excited by that excerpt she had read before going to sleep. As she was very pious, every night before going to bed, she would read a random quote of the Bible.

                        Last night it had been the Old Testament, from the Book of Joshua. It was about the conquest of the Promise Land, and talked about a king from Hazor named Jabin…

                        And in her dream, Jabin was a strange looking man, lost in the middle of ruins, who wanted to contact a woman about discoveries he had made in the Promise Land. He had found an entrance to a cave that had befuddled him. He hadn’t ventured too far into the cave, but anytime he had, he had found it impossibly deep and wide. So he wanted to share that discovery with that woman, but she was flying around in a parrot-coloured ballet tutu, on top of a three-humped flying camel…

                        Even the rigorous Jacqueline couldn’t repress a laugh at the unlikely images that her tired mind had produced.

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