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  • #1244

    “Can we go home now?” Arona asked the dragon … “I don’t know what we came here to do, but I miss Buckberry and Yikesy (and his nanny), even old grumpy Mandrake. And it feels like we’ve been gone for months!”

    “You’re not interested by knowing more about this place , are you?” asked Leörmn

    She didn’t answer lest she might hurt the dragon’s feelings —if he had any, that is.

    “Well, I don’t want to get home so soon!” said Irtak who was usually keeping quiet, but obviously was taking it all in here, being on this place like a grake on a lake.

    Leörmn took a deep breathe, pondering the situation and the many other probable realities verging on this one, and told Arona:

    “I believe there is a cave, at a day of walk from the shore, inside this land. This cave was used by the Guardians, long before you were born, and is known to dragons and nirguals from this time. From this cave, you shall be able to travel where you want. You may even meet the zynder to guide you.”

    Arona was thinking that the dragon was surely becoming senile talking all that nonsense she could barely figure out, but she was too considerate to mention it.

    “Do you remember your glubolin?” the dragon continued abruptly, but her mind was sharp, and she answered with certainty

    “I sure do. Why?”

    “Please take a moment to feel the remembrance of it”

    Well, sure, if that can please you she had learnt not to contradict old dotty dragons, so she tried her best to remember herself and Mandrake playing with the glowing ball filled with coloured sands ; that would surely not bring her back home, but at least the dragon couldn’t accuse her of not complying.

    “Continue…”

    As she remembered it, she felt how delicious and strange that object was, and how she’d loved it, and suddenly, it was here. In her hands!

    “The old dotty dragon still has a few tricks up its scales, young lady” Leörmn said with a slight smug on his snout (or whatever it is called).

    “Oh, that’s all very nice, but what’s the point of dragging this along?”

    “It’ll show you where to go” Leörmn answered, “use it as a compass; I’ve imprinted it with the location of the cave, so that you won’t be lost, and can find your way to the cave, or wherever you want to go. We are continuing here with the boys. Have a safe trip. We will meet again.”

    Arona blew a kiss in the direction of Irtak and the dragons, and without hesitation went in the direction of the dense tropical forest.

    “Well, that dragon is an odd ball, but at least, I don’t have to wait for them to finish whatever they’re doing on that weird place.” Arona was glad to be finally alone for the next days.

    “Will she be safe here?” asked Irtak

    “I believe she will, she has got resources. Besides, the Murtuane is a place filled with a certain peace and blessed with a slow unraveling of time; it helps take the measure of the events, and find one’s own truths.”

    #1223

    Becky sipped her coffee nervously, chain-smoking as she waited for Al and Sam to return from the crystal shopping excursion. She wasn’t sure if Al would approve of yet more characters in the Reality Play with so many loose threads already, all getting tangled up and dusty like so many balls of wool under the bed. Like dust bunnies, Becky thought with a chuckle. It was funny how the play had so many different moods, almost as if it had a life of its own. Well, I suppose the play itself is a sort of focus of attention in its own right, a conglomeration of the energies of a variety of essences, creating its own reality from its own perspective. But wait a minute, thought Becky, lighting up another cigarette, how is that different from me, for that matter? I am a conglomeration of the energies of fragmented essences creating my own reality from my own perspective too. Does that make me nothing more than a Reality Play —or, does that make the play a Focus of Essences?

    The line of thought was giving Becky a bit of a headache so she flicked through Al’s latest entries. Clever old Al had been tapping into his Spreal focus when he came up with those silly names, funny how it often worked out like that. A nonsense word here, a bit of gibberish there, none of it meaningless, and none of it meaning anything absolute, either. The secret of life, Becky decided, was in Not being Afraid Of Nonsense. People were so afraid of Nonsense, as if to be caught speaking Nonsense was a heinous crime, or at best a severe handicap, possibly resulting in some form of custody or social alienation. All you had to do was find other people who resonated with your own version of Nonsense, which happened automatically anyway vibrationally. There are thousands variations of Nonsense, and none of them make any more sense than any other, thanks to the Equality In Nonsense underground movement a few decades ago. Equality In Nonsense was started by a group of online friends a few years after the Ministry Of Common Sense had disbanded through lack of interest. It caught on quickly, making a mockery of common sense, which went underground, a few die-hards hanging on with grim faced tedium to the old tenets. Over the years, as the Acceptance Of Nonsense Rights was established, the Equality In Nonsense brigade disbanded to get down to the business of creating new variations of Nonsense, just for fun —which was of course, The Point. Nevertheless, or should I say, notwithstanding, Becky smiled, there still remained a degree of common sense in the general populace, which possibly wasn’t altogether a bad thing.

    It all got a in a bit of a muddle for awhile, until some enterprising folks published the handy guide books ‘Cooperation Within Nonsense ~ How To Communicate In Your Chosen Nonsense’, and ‘Accepting Total Nonsense ~ How To Deal With The Nonsense Of Others’.

    :fleuron:

    “Roots” exclaimed Elizabeth “I forgot the theme word!”
    “No doubt you’ll come up with an ingenioos way to slide it in, Liz” replied Godfrey with a smirk. “Pass the poonuts.”

    A disgruntled Elizabeth rewrote:

    “Rats!” I forgot the theme word!”

    Unfortunately, Pig Littleton insisted on using the OOh dimension vernacular, and Elizabeth tutted and hit send.

    #1218

    “Are these the snooters?”
    “You mean, snow scooters Glo?”
    “Yes, snooters, that’s what I said Mavis, don’t be bloody snooty with me”
    “They’re jolly small, init?”
    “Don’t be silly girls, 250 pounds max weight it says! With us as light as air, even with that mop of hair, it’ll carry us to Texas in no time”
    “Texas? Not sure there’s much snow in there…”
    “Oh shut up Mavis!”

    With that said, Sharon, Gloria and Mavis were soon riding on the icy slopes, with Akita solidly snetted to the back of Sharon’s machine.

    #1211

    It felt like she’d been projecting for hours —in and out of her body, often brought back by the incomfort of the warm and moistly room, where the rheumatic fan was blowing a measly wind full of humidity.

    The rabbit she’d seen a few hours ago was ‘wanishing’, like a gentle feeling of pure joyful happiness holding by a thread that you try to reminisce before lapsing back into the old patterns of self-doubts.

    She didn’t have to strain herself so much, she suddenly realized; it never worked well when she tried to push it. She wanted the clarity of the projection to be deeply anchored within herself, and not some stroboscopic view of her grim reality sandwiched in glimpses of blissful clear lightness.

    So, she decided to wait for the moment to be back. Time didn’t really matter once you projected, but here in this reality time still mattered, and you had to find the proper exit-way. Not all moment seemed to work well.
    There were old books in this room, most of them, her son probably did pile up without even reading them. Some of them evoked the the birth pangs of the new era they were still building, which had started about 30 years ago. Now, in 2038 she was old, but back then she was in her mid-life and fully aware of the good aspects and not so good aspects of this life. She had yearned for the changes, and it had come; she had outlived most of them, and the books probably wouldn’t tell her much that she had not actually lived. Probably her son was keeping them because of his beliefs on wasting his investments.
    She, for one, couldn’t care less about them.

    She picked a little book, with a few words and mostly drawings and symbols on it, and she smiled. She’d seen some of these symbols in her dreams, she related to them; she didn’t need the words explaining them; words were just the authors’ translations, and she trusted her own before them. But the book was making her feel good.

    She leaned back in her bed, maneuvering the rolling bed to be in front of the last beams of light of the day.
    She could see the full moon rise, and she felt peaceful.

    :fleuron:

    When she noticed she was in front of the cave, she wondered how long she’d been out of her body without knowing.
    She could see the moon higher in the sky than when she was in her room, and she could feel an energy of excitement.

    Anita was finally coming out of this underground trip with her parents. Seeing the little girl in the flesh would be such a revelation for her, she was thrilled to the point of even forgetting her doubts about the possibility that she was really becoming insane.
    She didn’t know why or how, but she would convince her son to offer them some shelter, so that they could settle before getting home. She had so much to learn from the little one she could feel. She was really wise beyond her age…

    Voices where starting to fill the silent space:

    “Anu! It’s been hours now we’ve been in these damp corridors, are you sure you know the way?”
    “Yes Mum, we’re almost there…”
    “Here, I can see the light Lily!”
    “Yes, I can see it too Aaron!”
    “Wow, the moon is full, it’s so lovely”

    After the couple had emerged, Balbina could see Anu wink at her. She was seeing her! Now, she only need show her the way to the house!

    #2034

    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Library ‘light’ words,
      Party step ~ hope real.
      Knew, done: liked room.
      Months dead portal getting human:
      Obviously involved!
      Wanted:
      Away Case.

      #1210

      Having left her body, she realized that this incursion in her old dimension had exposed her body to a lot of strain. It was easier for her now that her attention wasn’t so clinched to the physical reality, it was more fluid and more comfortable. She was in a hurry, but she had to made some arrangements before or her beautiful physical expression would deteriorate too quickly. Looking at it from her current point of view, she felt compassion and sadness. Her face was so pale and covered in sweat, her hair so dishevelled. She gathered some long forgotten aspects which would knew how to take care of that situation. She had some big challenge ahead and it was important that when she came back her body would be readily available.

      As for now, first of all she had to find that cube. It could help her localized the artifact she needed in her fight for the skulls. She vaguely remembered it was in a room to which there was an entry somewhere on this planet that she had left just before her departure to the Duane… so many years ago in her focus, and a bit mixed up with the non-linear time of that other dimension… well, she let her intuition guide her as it was the only way to find it; she felt that something in the energy outside was facilitating also, she could feel the ripples but… she had no time to find out what it could be. She already had lost so much time taking care of her body.

      After what seemed to be eons, she eventually found the door well hidden in a cave in Venezuela. The condition of the place surprised her, the cave was quite humid and muddy, the door wood was almost completely rotten, not mentioning the frame of eroded stones. She couldn’t remember why she chose these elements when she created this entry on earth, but apparently she didn’t put enough energy in it and her attention had been away for so long that it was crumbling apart. She didn’t have time for recrimination at the moment so she moved through the door and her presence lightened up the inner room.

      It was a place in between dimensions, an inner study from where she could gather and connect her discoveries in the different places she had visited; a good place to plan her next moves. The room was well equiped to find missing objects too. All she had to do was find that missing cube…

      It had to be close to the center, in a manner of speaking at equal distance from the different dimensions that were connected to it. She had to be careful in the process as some parts of the study were close enough of other dimensions that she would forget all about what she was looking for. There was a potentiality for disengagement here and that wouldn’t help her at all.

      #1201

      It wasn’t very difficult for Akita to have the door opened. Having Kay roam unnoticed in the rooms and corridors next to his cell made things very easy actually, giving him enough time to do his things.
      He’d known the art of lock-picking since he was a child, and he would have been able to open that door’s latch blindfolded, hands tied behind his back, with only his big toe and dental floss… so old this one was.

      So in a few minutes he was out; a few minutes later, he had found a proper military outfit in the lockers, Kay had been giving him the codes of, and as everyone was gone for the lunch break, the whole area was deserted.

      The greenhouse room was open, and a blinding light was pouring into it.

      “You didn’t tell me what made these watermelons special” Akita turned to the phantom dog.

      “Why don’t you have a try by yourself… Take a little one over there, and throw it on the opposite wall”

      Akita did as instructed, then backed off quickly blown off by the explosion .

      “Watermelbombs? are you kidding?”

      “Not really; it’s sad, but people have done lots of researches here to produce bio-degradable weapons easily grown. I think it wasn’t a coincidence you and the others have been brought here”

      “The others? You mean… Oh sh*t, I forgot the ladies, don’t tell me they’re still here?”

      “Yep, they are here. And they’re quite ready to fight for their survival too, believe it or not”

      “Oh, I don’t have any trouble seeing them as fierce warriors!”

      #1200
      Jib
      Participant

        After that strange dream, Yann had completely forgotten about the city and the puzzle reality game and the park. He’d caught a cold and a disturbing hiccup that made his thoughts hard to follow. He’d been wanting to do so many things during that week end, and it was all running away from him.

        Yurick was preparing him some medicine made from essence drops and jasmine tea, and Yann particularly enjoyed how his friend was taking care of him… he was feeling like a child of about 8. Though he was grumpy and mumbling a lot, he was pleased that they shared this occasion to talk about everything and nothing in particular. When Yurick told him about a lightus flower and a spam about a puzzle, Yann remembered his dream and what he saw there. He was telling his friend about the different patterns he saw in that park and that’s when emerged the idea of a book.

        The 2 friends were quite excited about the idea of a hidden city, yet to unfold. This book would be one step toward its manifestation.

        Yann, who was quite readily passionate about weird things was already imagining walking the ground of the park and hearing the sound of the water condensing from no cloud and falling in the even pong.

        “And you know what? That teacher you were listening to in my dream, something in his way of speaking reminds me of Aleksane…”

        “I have the impression of a hearty laugh, an eye and a thrilling atmosphere”, said Yurick.

        #2032

        In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Creating shifting themselves
          Tree feel sand reach whole ago
          Anita light closer step
          Jose closed near merely hill
          Far lots began

          #1194
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            “Barry the White Bear is the last person having seen Arky the missing Aardvark “ Mlle Mongoose reported back to the team of worried animals.

            “And did he say anything more?” Angela Goose asked, interrupting busy-looking Mlle Mongoose in mid-sentence.

            “Well, if you’d let the Director speak, perhaps we could hear what she knows” said Freaky the Ferret.
            “Don’t be zo mean to Angelipooh” Jobby the Hippo said compassionately “You know poor Angie is zo buzzy with Baba Yolanda coming over”
            “Who?” asked Weirdy the Weasel distractedly
            “Baba Yolanda the Loon !” answered Angela with a hint of exasperation “You’re not paying attention my dear? I told you ages ago she’d be coming this week to the Zoo to spend her winter here… I figure it’s getting too difficult for her in the wild given her age.”
            “Well, I hope it’ll be better this time; last time she came, she left you in a pretty bad shape, it took us months to get you back on your feet. It should be time for her to get over that old ugly-duckling complex…”

            “Ahem”, managed to say Mlle Mongoose who was however following the discussion with great interest
            She continued “As far as Arky is concerned, perhaps you should go see him yourselves. You’ll probably get more from Barry White than I did; He’s bearing the management a grudge since we decided to raise the temperature of his room because everybody around was catching colds after colds.”

            “Oh, great… my time of hitting the spotlight has finally come, and I’m stuck with dear ol’ Baba Yolanda” sighed Angela Goose.

            #1190
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              “Dory, there’s no asparagus, can we go and buy some?”

              “Asparagus? Whatever for?” replied a frantic looking Dory, almost hidden behind arms full of pillows and quilts.

              “For Will Tarkin, Mac said he likes asparagus” young Becky replied.

              “Who the bloody hell is Will Tarkin? I’ve got enough to cope with trying to get ready for Granny Hill!” Dory sounded uncharacteristically flustered and impatient, and Becky recoiled slightly from the sparky energy.

              “Will Tarkin is the mouse, Dory” Becky said in a tone that suggested it was inconceivable to have forgotten who Will Tarkin was.

              “Will bloody Tarkin is getting a bit too big for his boots!” snapped Dory. “He’ll be wanting caviar next! I’ve got a time travelling mouse camped up behind my microwave, and Granny Hill’s frightened to death of mice; the room she was going to stay in is full of baby geckos, and you know how scared she is of lizards, not to mention the dead rat that was outside a moment ago, appearing from nowhere, and now I’m trying to get Peppy’s house across the road ready so Granny Hill can stay there instead, and none of the bedding has been washed and it’s still raining, and now you want me to take you shopping for asparagus for a MOUSE! And not only that, there are dead rhino beetles all up Peppy’s driveway, I can’t imagine why, and I’d be willing to bet that Granny Hill is afraid of rhino beetles too, so I suppose I’ll have to sweep up rhino beetles today too, as if I haven’t got enough to do cleaning up dead rats and baby geckos. Granny Hill is afraid of gas heaters too, so I’ll have to take an electric one over to Peppy’s”

              “Granny Hill sure is afraid of a lot of things, Dory. Why is she scared of everything?”

              “Good question, sweetheart” replied Dory, relaxing her energy as she brought her attention back to the moment. “She’s one of the old ones, from the Victim Mentality Days and the Age of Medical Suggestibility. They’re always afraid of everything, and Granny Hill’s a good example. Afraid of her money in case she can’t keep control of it, afraid of her car for the same reason, afraid of the food she eats in case it contains hidden poisons and afraid of the hospitals in case they’re dirty and dangerous. She’s afraid of strangers in case they have knives and stab her, even though in all her life she’s never seen a person threaten anyone with a knife, she’s even afraid of people in other countries, just in case they come and drop a bomb on her.”

              “She must enjoy being scared, then, mustn’t she?” asked Becky. “Otherwise she wouldn’t do it. Doesn’t she realize she’s creating her reality herself?”

              “Well, that was the trouble in the old days, honey, they didn’t know that back then. There’s a lot of people who still don’t know it now”

              “Wow, really?” Becky said incredulously. “That must be weirdo!”

              Dory had to laugh. “Believe it or not, neither did I for years. I keep forgetting it even now! Some of us used to say things like ‘think positive’ which wasn’t far off the mark, or ‘behind every cloud is a silver lining’, or ‘this too will pass’, that was always a good one for when you felt like it was all out of control. Alot of people prayed to gods too, thinking that their life was in the hands of the gods. I never knew much about praying myself though, we didn’t do that in our family, but it was very popular.”

              “Maybe they were asking their own essence to help, that would make sense” replied Becky astutely. “Praying probably helped.”

              “Yeah it probably did but there was alot of baggage that went along with praying, it wasn’t something you could do on your own in your own way, you had to go to a certain building to do it, and say certain words, even wear certain clothes and eat certain things. It was all very complicated, didn’t really work out in the end. The funny thing was, they were always fighting with people who prayed differently in different special buildings and who ate different special things and wore different special clothes, it was bizarre really.”

              “Who is Granny Hill anyway, and why is she coming to stay?” Becky was bored with the way the conversation was going, and curious about Granny Hill who came to stay every so often, and always seemed to rattle Dory. “Whose granny is she?”

              “Buggered if I know really, Becky” Dory replied. “Every family has one, I don’t know where they come from, they sort of just appear every so often and want to come and stay for a while.”

              #1189

              Everyone had been disappointed that the Day of the Dead Party had been a wash out, cancelled because of the torrential rain. An alternative date had not yet been set for the boulder moving party, and the interior of the mysterious mound was to remain an enigma for a while longer.

              Dan had been frankly relieved about the cancellation, preferring to get sodden on the Volderama golf course instead. He’d been delighted to meet Sergio Garcia there, especially as his old friend Juani Ramirez had had a dream several years previously about him and Sergio.

              Dory and Becky were disappointed though. They’d both been consumed with curiosity about the mound and it’s blue tiled interior and were eager to explore the inside physically, rather than with the customary psychic investigations and meditations. Never the less, they were both aware that when the time was right, everything would slot into place.

              There was much to keep them occupied, what with the time travelling mouse that was camped behind the microwave oven, and the impending arrival of Granny Hill.
              Becky had named the mouse Will, short for Will O’ The Wisp, but that was before she knew that he was a time traveller. She left him a variety of tasty morsels next to the toaster, which Will took to his hide-out — Marie biscuits, dried cranberries, little chunks of Swiss cheese, and sometimes an almond or two. She left him a piece of lettuce and two sweet corn kernels once, but he hadn’t been at all interested. Obviously Will wasn’t a victim of nutrition beliefs, and Becky was impressed.

              Wondering what else Will might like to eat for variety, and because she was beginning to realize that this wasn’t just any old ordinary mouse, Becky sent a message to Dory’s friend Mac Brock, who always seemed to be able to pull interesting information out of his hat. Mac’s wife Wanda replied first, confirming Becky’s impression that this was no ordinary mouse, but in fact contained an energy fleck of Tarkin, the Brocks non-physical friend from the future. Shortly afterwards, Mac replied, saying that Will-Tarkin liked asparagus.

              Asparagus! Becky found that quite funny, because ‘asparagus’ had been the code word that the time travellers had said that they would use. She had been looking forward to meeting a time traveller. Little did she know that the first time traveller to come and stay at her house would be a mouse!
              :mouse:

              #1186

              Arona was fretting.

              “Now, what is this all about? Can someone explain me? The purple sand is pretty, the green sky too, however it looks just like an insane dream from a deranged mind having abused smoke of robjane leaves.”

              Framing Irtak —who was having a funny pout on his face— the dragons Heckle and Jeckle were too busy considering with an amused attention the new form and energy field that their progenitor had taken.

              No words were spoken to answer Arona’s plea for answers, but answers were starting to come to them in the form of a bundle of energy which would be difficult to translate in a linear manner.

              They started to understand a few things. That for one, N’meôrl the Nirgual was not here by chance, at this place and time. Again, they had travelled far in the past of the history of their dimension, and events of great importance were in motion, that they were given to witness.

              At first, the flow of information they were having was like a stream they thought they had no control of, but as questions were forming they noticed that it was altering the flow which was then encompassing the answers to those questions.

              Like when Jeckle wondered if he and his twin had big birdies counterparts like this one to merge with, and got the following answer “No. For you are quite new essences fragments, and thus do not yet hold focuses in similar extent to your progenitor.”

              Arona was quite pleased by this new mode of getting answers, especially as she could visibly get the answers she was genuinely looking for, not those coming from questions she was only remotely interested in.

              N’meôrl was showing them also, that unlike him, they were not quite physically focused into that environment, and were not noticed by the small surrounding creatures like the little red scrabs crawling in the sand. They were mainly there to observe and draw their own conclusions, as soon some events would occur.

              As they’d finished absorbing the information, they started to notice a feeling of expectation in the air. N’meôrl conveyed to them that they would have to stay quiet in his peripheral awareness for “they” were coming, and he was on a delicate mission.

              :fleuron:

              Footsteps on the beach.
              A man approaching. He looks like Irtak and Arona, as if he had just come into this alien world from the same door they had taken. But he fails to notice them.

              He stays, facing the deep green waters of the ocean brushing the shore, as if expecting someone.

              A strange buzz starts to fill the space. A point of focused light the size of a pinhole appears in front of him, expands quickly with an elastic quality, and pops with a soft sound, revealing an improbably tall figure under a cloak.

              The man greets the new-comer with deference
              “Master Sinadron”
              “Jarvis, my good friend.”

              They start to walk on the beach at the unspoken invitation of the one with the smooth voice named Sinadron.

              “So, I’ve been told our little matter is going very well.”
              “Yes, very well, Master; I am deeply grateful for your intervention; without your help I’ve been told, my dear would not have been allowed to…”
              “Let’s not talk of such things any longer; it was such a delight to help two sweet young souls so deeply in love”

              Somehow, despite the words of kindness which are slithering with ease, the invisible witness got the uncanny feeling that they are but a deceptive fragment of the truth.

              “Now. Tell me”, the one named Sinadron continues in a mellifluous voice “Why have you called me for?”
              “The settlement you have suggested us to start on this land…”
              “Yes, I am aware, please go to the point instead of labouring things I am well aware of.” The voice had sharpened a bit.
              “I am sorry Master.”
              “Continue”
              “There is a growing dissent that…”
              “And from who that shall come?”
              “Err… I hear Pelorus has spoken to the Zentauras…”
              “Pelorus is but a nuisance.” The voice wasn’t asking for contradiction, though an imperceptible grin was floating on the half-hidden face.
              He continued “But I shall help you, once again
              “Master, you are too generous…”
              “Let me finish. I will provide you with more men and women, willing to start a new life under your command, to help you grow your settlement. There are a few slaves on the Duane, that place from where you come who will do great.”
              “Master…”
              “They will be there in an hexade. Make sure you stand your ground until then, even if that means confronting those nasty Zentauras.”

              And without waiting for the confused thanks, he disappeared, grinning widely.

              #1183

              Inside the cave Malvina was considering to move again.

              She couldn’t help but giggle softly at the thought of Arona fulminating at how restless that dragon of hers was. To tell the truth, she was one of high restlessness too. And her dragon, and his offspring were most of the time merely resonating to her high energy. Otherwise, they would be too happy to be left alone to dream in a corner of a cave glowing of glukenitch lights.

              Now, she had to wait for Leormn’s return from his little vacation to be able to move swiftly. Granted she could do it alone, but it would be so tedious, with all those eggs hidden in various places. Perhaps she could do with a little vacationing herself. She was thinking, Georges and Salome would be certainly glad to take care of the cave in her absence, and of her guests.

              She would go see them; she loved the little Ugling who was growing so fast he would now run in many places and ask funny questions. Vincentius (with the grumpy cat perched on his large shoulders out of reach from the bullying little one) was teaching him lots of things on the vegetation (mostly fungus and lichens inside) and on geology that the boy was eager to learn, with an unmistakable affinity for rocks though. He would be quick to learn how to summon the rock’s consciousness for many purposes.

              She almost got lost in the tunnels again. “Someone should get those indications straight, dammit!” she swore as she entered a dead-end. A few turns right, and another left, and she was in front of the painted wall with the ‘PEACE OFF’ painted door. So that’s where they went… the door was visibly shut now…
              A nearby snort suddenly caught her attention.

              “Buckberry? What are you doing here little precious; hasn’t Arona taken you with her? Well, silly me, obviously not.” She added, seeing the floor covered with crushed buckberries juice. “Awww, you don’t even have the appetite for your cherished buckberries…”

              Malvina knew of course that it wasn’t the closed door that kept Buckberry here, as he most probably could go wherever Arona was, if she summoned him properly, but it was rather the fact she had left without notice. Malvina laughed heartily “Aahaha, don’t be soft Buckie, she’s probably been tricked by your daddie and your little buggers of brothers, but she’ll come back…”

              #1174

              Balbina had had a quite difficult week. Feeling cold, having trouble to find sleep, not even speaking of being unable to do the kind of out-of-body travel she had managed to do last time.
              She was almost starting to doubt she could redo it again.

              Of course, the relocation at her son’s cottage was a source of much change in her habits, and although he wasn’t at home most of time, she wasn’t really feeling like she was ‘at home’. Strangest thing really, as for the time she was at the hospice she wasn’t feeling as much an alien as in this cottage. At least, at the hospice, she was in a sort of neutral environment, some place where she wasn’t undesirable (would it be asking for too much to actually be desirable at her age?). Here, the environment wasn’t neutral at all; everywhere everything reminded her of her son: his books, the posters, even the dust on the coffee table was almost looking as though it was his own.

              So she had to adjust. Contort her energy to fit —to crumple herself!— into this place, as it would be likely she would spend quite some time here. She wasn’t asking for much really, as she wasn’t able to move from the bed he’d had installed in the spare room. Ghastly room, with a creepy wallpaper from a has-been era of the past days, year 2000 or close she’d guess, gaudy as it was… oriented to the south, with hardly bearable heat during the day. She would have loved to see the coast on the north, but instead, the only window was showing her the shade of the trees, and that ominous alligator-green mountain just behind.

              If she couldn’t project in her dreams as she managed to do before, she would soon either die of boredom or of heat. She wasn’t too sure which one would be the most painless and efficient.

              She pushed the button to have her bed roll a little closer to the window; once straightened up a bit, she was able to see the passageway to the mountain. She couldn’t explain why she didn’t like this mountain; it was quite beautiful; perhaps she feared to be lost and abandoned. All the more since she could feel so much presence in this environment. Unseen presence, and trickster ones too.

              She was tired, and yawned so much her tense jaw’s muscles ached.

              On the emerald path to the forest, a moving teal wisp of light caught her attention. Funny plays of light at this hour of the day. But the wisp was persistent, and it started to move towards her.

              “Good day Balbina!”

              The crazy rabbit was back again. And… she was sleeping? In or out?

              “In or out, smell my foot, it’s your choice, and matters not
              but be quick, and come forth, for Anita and her folks this wicked way come!”

              “The tune is set, the tunnel is close
              Of playfulness you’ll need a hefty dose”

              #1172

              After he sent his reply to Yann, Yurick took a deep breathe in appreciation of all that had been done the last past days.

              However tedious, all in all, it had allowed him to stay away from other people’s trauma, and stay focused on his own issues. Now, the feeling of the energy at hand was starting to become lighter. Like a thin ray of light poking through a thick layer of rainy clouds, announcing that the silver lining was more than just a consolation. It was announcing the sun to come.

              He took the book of stories that had been unburied (like his pleasure to write) from the bottom of the sofa’s cushions when they’d received hosts last week-end, and looked with amusement at the opening note about the “random quotes”.

              A strong sense of an inkling started to dawn at him.
              Thanks to the random quotes —or more appropriately said, to convenient synchronicities— “stuff” was never lost or buried in the insides of that ever-growing story, which was eating with gluttony at the edges of its expansion. Things were popping up here and there, reminding of old loose threads, or pertinent inclusions or links to be made.

              But there was more. He, for a long time, had thought that imagination was expanding things to make physical reality look smaller in proportion than it was. Like when they’d looked at Dory’s pictures, and everything looked so big on them. Even the mere thought of nine dogs was huge. But when they’d met her, and Dan, and the dogs, it was all so much smaller. Even seeing Dory manage her dogs made having nine dogs seem manageable.
              But the reverse was true: physical reality had its way of dwarfing imagination. Not so much making it smaller, but compacting it, making it fit in an unbelievably condensed and small space.

              Take that book. Thousands of words, billions of probabilities, endless threads and hundreds of characters, all packaged in a small stack of inked paper. The trick was that when you look at it that way, when you got that small stack of paper in your hands, it all seems so manageable; one starts to get accustomed to it, then fails to see the newness in it each time it’s opened to tell a story.

              Imagination is the true gauge of the vastness of the universe. It’s so easy to forget…

              #1165

              on a Yukailli Airlines Flyboat, Cruise#557
              Long Pong vicinity, International Waters, October 2008

              “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are sorry to tell you that for unexpected reason, the flight has been rerouted to Auckland, New Zealand. Our final destination, Tikfijikoo Island is under strict quarantine for an unknown…

              — “WHAT?!” Dory was drawn out of her clouds contemplation by the voice of Ignoratio Elenchi
              — “Shhht!” Becky commanded her a bit rudely.

              Then, after the voice of the captain faded out in an incomprehensible muddle, “Oh, great! Now, we didn’t get what’s happening…”
              “Oh, as if we care for the reasons…” Dory said pragmatically. “Such a strange creating we did this time. I was so expecting to get to this island, and now it’s closed to tourists?”
              “Don’t worry, we may get there later… At least, this time we got to board on this strange airline, even if just for a round trip.”
              “Good point, Beck’!”

              Then, as if a sudden idea had just stuck her she added with a gleam in her eyes “Hey, that’s a really nice creating actually; we may be back home just in time for Day of the Dead celebrations…”

              Sometimes things seemed to work in cycles and round trips she thought to herself…

              #1159

              “You tempestuous fool” Becky cried and slapped Gayesh soundly across the face. “Don’t give me those unspoken looks!”

              Gayesh sighed. “Ah, the infinite pleasure I had in mind is naught but an elusive dream.”

              Elizabeth read the last two lines she’d been working on to her publisher, Godfrey Pig-Littleton.

              Godfrey snorted. “Elizabeth, really! You jest, I hope.”

              “Well, I was just trying to fit each of the four themes into one chapter, they all seemed to fit together so easily” Elizabeth replied. “Why not? Tempestuous, Elusive Dreams, Unspoken Looks, and Pleasure”

              “You seemed to have fit them all into two sentences, never mind a chapter. And your characters sound like characters in a play.”

              “Well they are characters in a play, Godfrey” replied Elizabeth.

              “Ham actors, that’s what I meant. Anyway, Liz” Pig-Littleton said with a slightly mischievous grin, “What if Gayesh doesn’t want his face slapped by Becky?”

              “What do you mean?”

              “What if Becky doesn’t want to slap Gayesh?”

              “Well, she will if I write it into the play, surely!” Elizabeth started to frown. She knew that once she invented her characters that they continued to exist in a reality of their own, being free to create their own realities in whatever probable dimension they found themselves in, but she had never really stopped to think about the ramifications of her continuing to write incidents into their lives.

              “Maybe Becky has moved on from where you left her last time you wrote about her, in a completely different direction” Godfrey continued “And maybe she doesn’t want to play along with your theme word game. I mean really, is it fair to make her? Maybe she was having more fun doing whatever it was she was doing while you weren’t even thinking about what she should do. Quite rude really to interrupt her just so that you could do your word theme games. Bit of a cheek, I’d say.”

              “Oh Godfrey, that’s easily explained” Elizabeth had remembered Probabilities, which was always a handy excuse in continuity disputes. “Another probable character will do what I write for them to do, there are probably hundreds of probable characters now, all going in different directions.”

              “Is that wise? Really Elizabeth, that sounds outrageously irresponsible. Hundreds of probable characters running amok, and you have absolutely no idea what they’re all getting up to.”

              “Well they’re not my responsibility Godfrey, for heavens sake!”

              “Well if they’re not your responsibility, then who’s responsible for them?”

              “Nobody is responsible for them!”

              “Well that sounds like a recipe for chaos if you ask me” Godfrey said with a sniff. “You’ve unleashed hundreds of probable Becky’s into reality, not to mention Leo’s and Bea’s….”

              “And Pig-Littleton’s” Elizabeth interjected under her breath.

              “… and Sanso’s and Dory’s” Godfrey, who hadn’t heard Elizabeth, continued to reel off the characters names. “I mean how big do you think reality is? The rate you’re filling it up with probable characters there’ll be no space left!”

              Elizabeth started to laugh. “Oh Godfrey, you’re a case. Ahahah! They don’t take up any space at all! Anyway, Godfrey” Elizabeth turned back to her notepad. “Listen to the latest chapter and tell me what you think:

              “You tempestuous fool” Becky cried and slapped Gayesh soundly across the face. “Don’t give me those unspoken looks!”

              Gayesh sighed. “Ah, the infinite pleasure I had in mind is naught but an elusive dream.”

              Godfrey Pig-Littleton was impressed. “Elizabeth, how perfectly you incorporated the four themes into one brilliantly short chapter”

              Elizabeth closed her notebook with a satisfied smile and yawned. Let them all do whatever the bloody hell they all want to, I’m off to bed. Plenty of probable characters available in the morning, waiting in the wings.

              #2030

              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Some selected bits from one tag cumulo-cloud:

                — “Matter (is) dimensional energies realized”
                — “Expect Hector (to) surface, Rafaela!”
                — “Leonora gets (to) keep saying ‘play attention!’”
                — “Close rain, friend magic, hope water seeing”
                — “Far within thinking, Arona sort days, (her) hold gives human comments great meaning”
                — “Soon blue seconds, call straight (at the) door, met surely physical; notice move (of) essence (in) fat huge dreams”
                — “Universe appear (in) book story”
                — “Malvina line although familiar answered busy funny heading”
                — “Tina looked love taking lots question indeed”
                — “Word usually working (in) short shifting pooh adventure”
                — “Seems Armelle starting soft reason; strange perhaps (in the) middle (of) rolling help (one may) spot dragons’ truth past spider times”
                — “‘Tell inside reality’: three words step (to) creating”
                — “Becky, allow yourself finding single beautiful playing light, dear”
                — “Cloud impulse shall house explain surprised black connection”
                — “Cool trust(ed) friends, portal plane”
                — “Aliens coincidence next talking”
                — “Walking arms seem flight silence; stone creature sound already entered field (of) aware(ness); scene trip apparently given reading”
                — “Beyond rolled Theresa, lately cave telling unusual morning”
                — “Wortex large, merely Glo”

                #1152

                Angela Wing was getting impatient. It had taken the fat white goose many months to reach a state of impatience, being such an accepting sort of creature, but really, she was wondering if she would ever have even so much as a walk in part in the Reality Play. Sure, she was a player behind the scenes, often appearing in the dreams of the players, but heck, a little bit of limelight would be nice occasionally.

                She preened her brilliant white feathers, thinking how well they would show up under the lights, as it were. It was all very well lurking in the shadows of the ill remembered dreams all the time, but Angela felt the time was ripe for more exposure.

                :fleuron:

                Becky yawned. Where on earth did that come from? she wondered, as she tried to rouse herself from her long nap. I wasn’t even dreaming about Angela Wing! All I can remember dreaming about is a book cover, something to do with eights…

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