Search Results for 'liz'

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  • #765
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      After hours and hours of lessons in the middle of stinky pelts in their log cabin, it didn’t take Elvira long to realize taxidermy wasn’t really her forte either.

      #747

      What a francitic woman thought Elizabeth, a bit less distressed now she had secured her last insights into her clooh-box.
      Hopefully, she could happily forget about those, and go for a walk to have some welcomed cooffee.

      Wishing she would not bounce into some unwelcome apparition, she trod her way to the outside world.
      How long it had been? With all that pressure from her publisher, she had almost forgotten how exquisite it all was outside.
      So simple, and yet so brilliant.

      It didn’t have the complexity of the Worlds of which she intuited things, nor the same amount of excitement it aroused in her, but nonetheless it was appeasing, and that was perhaps all she needed for the moment.
      Perhaps a walk to Garden Centrool would do her great.

      :fleuron:

      Sitting on a bench near the dribbling foontain where cuckoos were drinking at the sound of woodpeckers’ holes drilling, she became entranced by the sound of water, and almost felt like dancing at the cuckoos and woodpecker’s cooing and drumming beats…
      All this Lemone quotes were now far away… She’d had enough of them, and wanted simpler truths. Lively ones.

      She could feel inspiration flow back into herself, as she envisioned her favorite depiction of inspiration, the mangeloose Pigoosus. Elizabeth was reeling in its wonderful aura, seeing the squinting eyes of the creature, the magnificence of its sprawled wings, its awe-inspiring moose antlers, and the slick body of a foxy mongoose with a protuberant snoot.

      It all was symbolic of herself of course, the best depiction of all her awesome features. The snoot for curiosity (and nose in general), the wings for imagination, the antlers for connection, and the mongoose for the fearlessness and sex-appeal.

      Pigoosus, or Pigooh, as she called him, was telling him tales, tales that were spun between the gapping holes of her clooh-box items, and that were weaving them together in beautiful macramooh patterns.

      The Shift in Earth-dimension awareness is coming and it is revealing long-lost hidden things, that is the reason of these other-dimensional bleed-through on the islands. Where those having hoped to bury some artifacts away of consciousness, in that dimension where all was so separated that even Pigooh would have had trouble getting throoh. The skulls gates one by one open now.

      Pen! She needed a pen!

      #1709

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        A small sync that hits me now I re-read it…
        In Francie’s comment about Elizabeth of the Ooh-dimension a reference is made of the “clooh-box”.

        Funny thing was that yesterday, we were talking with Tracy of one of the tiles which she felt linked to Francie, with the sense of natural magic it conveys. It reminded me that Jib told me it made him think of a magical girl scepter.
        During spring in New-Zealand, so that must have been around October, we discussed cherry blossom (or さくら sakura in Japanese) with Francie, and had some syncs with Sakura, who is a “magical girl” with a winged scepter.

        And, as I explained a bit the concept to Tracy, I told her about the Clow cards (here’s my entry for a sync :yahoo_eyelashes: :yahoo_tongue: ).

        Tracy found Dash interesting (its form is a blue, fox-like creature with long rabbit ears) —even more as it appears in episode 53 :yahoo_big_grin:

        #737

        Finnley, you let me in right this mooment! commanded Elizabeth Tattler imperatively.

        I am sorry, Ms Tattler, I am under strict instructions from Mr Arak that I am under no circumstances to let you in until this office has been cleaned. I will lose my job if I let you in.

        Now there’s an idea! she thought, toying with the idea momentarily

        Why that pompous, arrogant, supercilious proot ….. Elizabeth paused midflow to admire her vocabulary.

        Finnley was quite enjoying the change of routine, and Ms Tattler’s office really was a treasure trove of interesting bits and pieces. The thick layer of dust, and were those magpie droppings? were a little off-putting mind-you. She plucked a book randomly from the shelf, and lifting the visor of her protective faceshield in order to see better, gently wiped the title clean. “I am Perfect Indeed” The author was some fellow named Erwin P Lemone who Finnley had never heard of. She picked another one, “Basic Flying Massage Techniques of the Ancient Kuzhebar, Book One for Beginners” by Jibberish E Shrale

        Finnley, Elizabeth’s voice had taken on a wheedling tone from the other side of the door. Be a sweetie-pooh will you and put this note in my clooh-box. Finnley watched intrigued as a piece of paper inched its way under the locked door.

        Sure Ms Tattler, where is the clooh-box?

        On my office desk, next to the daily quotes. Don’t mess anything up Finnley dear, you be careful, I have very precious things in my office.

        Finnley could not resist a peek but the scribbled words made no sense to her

        Amanita muscaria intoxication typically produces macroopsia – Beckipooh?
        13th gate and the 13th skull FEBRUPOOH 20TH 2008
        The Snoot – who is he really?
        supercilious proot! Arak Dr Bronkelhampton? ? ? ? WHAT IS PLAN B?????????

        Her eyes fell on the daily quote for the day, that Lemone chappie again!

        rainy wedding, merry marriage

        She snorted derisively, He must be madder than Almad that Lemone, how silly! No wonder poor Ms Tattler seemed a bit mindblown sometimes if she reads stuff like that

        #735

        The last words of the stranger were still resonating in his mind. Franiel was feeling a bit drowsy and he had the odd sensation of being looked from the inside. A smile illuminated the face of the man.

        You are the weirdest man I ever saw. he said in a sigh. When he realized what he had told his guest, he blushed with shame. I’m sorry, I wouldn’t mean…
        Hahahahaha. The man was slapping on his legs. Hahahaha, my dear Franiel, you don’t know how close to the truth you are. I appreciate when one speak his heart.

        Franiel couldn’t say anything. He was aware that he should have been feeling shameful, but the laugh of the stranger had dissipated that convention. He was just feeling in harmony with his creation. This last thought surprised him. His creation? He’d been told that the gods created all that is on the Duane, her sister the Murtuane and their ghostly sister the Phrëal.

        What was in the nectar? I’m seeing things. He frowned. Something in the surrounding objects, the mossy rocks and the earthly path, the grass and the insects flying or crawling around. The colors were different. Your eyes… they are… blue…

        The stranger was still smiling, not saying anything, and though Franiel was feeling as if he was communicating him important things.

        Something leapt from behind a tawheowheo, making the nearby dandelion seeds fly away silently.
        The creature was barking and Franiel jumped on his feet, making the chalice fall in the dust. It was similar as a mountain wolf, but smaller. Black and fuzzy. And it was running toward him.

        Don’t be afraid of Moufle, he’s my long life companion, he’s been following me in my exploration for quite some time in a form or another. He makes a lot of noise, but he knows his friends.

        Moufle was trying to lick Franiel’s face. All the love he had felt a second before was shaded by the need to keep the animal away. Not that he was dangerous. The stranger… what was his name? He didn’t tell him his name. Franiel was too shy in his normal state to dare ask directly. But he could at least relax as Moufle was now occupied with his master, who spoke as if he’d read his mind.

        I am not his master, you see. he was fondling his companion. He’s just choosing to come with me.
        He kept silent for a minute, snooting around.

        By the way, my name is Leonard.

        #733
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          When Becky realized what she was wearing, she wished the ground would open up and swallow her. She rummaged in her bag for her phone, and called Al. She would hide behind a bush until he arrived, bringing some clothes with him, she thought.

          The number you have reached is not connected at this time, the automated voice on the other end told her.
          RATS! His phone was switched off.

          Becky tried Tina’s number. Her phone was disconnected too.

          Becky tried Sean’s number. Thank Flink for that! At least it was ringing.

          No answer. It rang and rang, but nobody answered.

          Bloody hell! Sam’s in Australia, he can’t help, what am I going to DO? she wailed.

          #731
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            It was taking longer than expected for Sanso and Zhana to find food, and they were weak with hunger when they came across the big toad. There was plenty of water; gurgling brooks and rushing streams crisscrossed their path, crystal clear with icy cool snow melt from the summer thaw. The’d found a few cow berries along the way, and they had chewed a few mushrooms but they wanted something substantial before setting off for the other side of the world. Sanso had left a trail of flourescent green cave lichen, to show them the way back to the cave entrance, which was to be their portal to Nishanti’s place.

            Maybe the toad will show us the way to find food, said Zhana. Ask him, Sanso!

            You ask him! replied Sanso.

            No, YOU ask him. Zhana was inexplicably feeling shy.

            Sanso chuckled goodnaturedly, and agreed to ask toad. He stood there silently smiling for some minutes, and Zhana began to wonder just WHEN Sanso would oblige. Her stomach was grumbling and growling and she was starting to get impatient when Sanso turned and strode purposefully off to the left.

            What the…..snapped Zhana. She rushed after him, angrily shouting OY! Her foot caught on a root, sending her sprawling face down amongst the mushrooms.

            Sanso turned, and couldn’t help but laugh. The more he laughed, the angrier Zhana became, causing Sanso to laugh all the more.

            AAAH Ha Ha Ha! AAAHHHH Ha Ha Ha HAAAAH! OOO Hoohooo! If you could see your face all covered in blue mud and red and white spotted mushrooms, you’d laugh too!

            Zhana started to cry.

            There there, dear, Sanso said kindly, trying hard to stop laughing, and wiped the mess off the girls face with an old rag he found in one of his pockets. Did you know that Siberian blue mud is a much sought after beauty treatment in some places? This little mishap will do wonders for your complexion, you know.

            Will it? snivelled Zhana, who had been preoccupied of late with with her adolescent skin.

            Yes! There is no such thing as an accident, you know.

            Well, where were you rushing off to, anyway? You promised to ask toad where to find food, and then without saying a word, you dashed off and left me!

            Sanso looked perplexed. I DID ask toad!

            No, you DIDN’T, retorted Zhana.

            Sanso stared at her, wondering what was the matter with her. Then the penny dropped, so to speak, and he realized that Zhana was more familiar with verbal conversations, and had been unaware of the silent communication between him and toad.

            Zhana, most of our conversations aren’t in words, you know, he explained gently. Listen to the non-words.

            Huh? it was Zhana’s turn to look perplexed.

            You do it all the time you know. You are simply not paying attention.

            He winked at her, and smiled. Come on! The food is this-a-way!

            #2006

            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

            Jib
            Participant

              Oh I just realized I did the 53rd comment :D
              :bounce: :bounce: :bounce: :bounce: :bounce:
              :bounce: :bounce: :bounce:

              #724

              Becky felt revitalized somewhat after breakfast, and decided to go for a walk. Sean was still snoring and mumbling in bed, so she pulled some clothes out of the closet quickly and climbed into them quietly, unable to see clearly in the dark.

              If the pile of wedding gifts on the dining room table hadn’t attracted her attention, she might have looked in the hall mirror, but as it was, she didn’t. It wasn’t until much later, a long way from home, that she realized what she had donned that morning.

              Becky picked up the doll that Patel had given her and grinned. She couldn’t have chosen a more entertaining husband for her mother if she’d chosen him herself. He was such a delightful practical joker, a real hoot, and Becky was very fond of him. She frowned as she turned the strange doll round in her hand, not quite sure what the joke was yet. She was quite sure there would be a laugh in it somewhere though.

              Well, time will tell, she murmured, and headed out of the front door to hail a gondola cab. Shivering as she waited, she thought happily of the honeymoon in Sri Lanka the following week. Becky wondered if they might extend the trip, and visit Sam in Australia.

              #1896
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                And another snippet about crystal skulls…..
                :cluebox:
                “….if you wish to project
                your mentality and blend your consciousness with the idea of the
                consciousness of the civilization that has created it, so that you may
                in a sense, follow them, you will have to form a blending with all of
                yourself. That is, let us say, the safeguard, the lock and the key. In
                that an individual who cannot come to terms with the blending of all
                portions of their personality will not be able to enter the door.”

                #1690

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Oxshift :yahoo_rofl:

                  ahem, well for my latest synchs:

                  I followed numberplate J533 into town this morning.

                  Lemon synchs please see my previous comment well … i finally threw out the last of these lemons I had stored in my fridge yesterday, and thought fondly of the whole lemon synch thing. Then I noticed today that Tracy had posted the lemon tree song again in her ramblings thread. A short time later I picked up the local hawkes bay newspaper in order to peruse it, and saw that the whole front page was a picture of Noel Lucas (we don’t know him, I just include his name for accuracy) and a big heading A ZEST FOR THE BEST. Noel was holding up a lemon, which looked to be about as big as his head. It weighed 756gms.

                  Apparently on Jan 12th there was a story of a 600gm lemon (unfortunately I missed this story .. as you can see our local newspaper is full of riveting news …) and now a lemon war has started as lemon growers vie for the biggest lemon.

                  Noel has never fertilized his lemons and attributes it to climate changes. He has lived in the same house same house since 1983 and this is the biggest crop ever.

                  Director of the Lemon marketing board believes the bumper crop is due to an “evolutionary leap.” hahahaha

                  I think this is also a Nadia synch, biggest baby, biggest lemon… oh and also Hercules the biggest dog.

                  #1688

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  Jib
                  Participant

                    I was speaking about syncs with agent Flove…

                    eschraiel: did you see the sync with the dog?
                    franci_free: am just reading your synch
                    eschraiel: haha :D
                    franci_free: i was thinking i had noticed dogs a bit yesterday
                    eschraiel: wow interesting
                    franci_free: firstly a little poodle outside the supermarket, we sat next to it for a while and petted it
                    franci_free: i would not usually do that
                    eschraiel: hehehe what’s apoodle?
                    franci_free: and someone showed me a photo of a HUGE dog they had taken
                    franci_free: hang on
                    franci_free: http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/littlebritain/images/gallery/poodle.jpg
                    eschraiel: hahaha I got that :p http://www.cloggie.org/pictures/proggold/web_Alpaca%20Poodle.JPG
                    eschraiel: it’s like a lama :p
                    franci_free: oh wow
                    eschraiel: yours is cuter ;))
                    franci_free: well that is a llama synch too then
                    eschraiel: really?
                    franci_free: because yesterday i thought “my goodness what a lot of llamas i am hearing about” and ther is one across the road too
                    franci_free: with the circus
                    eschraiel: http://www.cloggie.org/proggold/2007/12/07/note-to-googlers-its-not-a-bloody-poodle/
                    eschraiel: again a hoax apparently :p
                    franci_free: ahahahaha
                    eschraiel: I’m having a lot of hoax :-?
                    eschraiel: is that a clue?
                    eschraiel: it’s fun hoax though

                    And so we decided to create a detective agency specialized in hoacsynchs… agent Flove and me as the Snoot

                    Well Eric just told me that hoax is an ox so we can find a bluebull clue :-?
                    We are specialized in blueOx!!!

                    #1686

                    In reply to: Synchronicity

                    Jib
                    Participant

                      Hahaha so many comments on the morning when I wake up!!!
                      I had a few synchs this morning, the first was with a dream in which I was seeing the number 533 and I was laughing as it was a combination of 53 (me) and 33 (Elias)… and I realized people couldn’t understand it :)

                      Well this morning, when I opened my mails, I found 2 mails, one was posted at 5:33 !!!
                      And the second one was posted at 9:21… I thought of Francie and as I called her Finn yesterday when I YM’ed her, I was surprised by her last comment in which Finn was speaking…
                      And in the mail (the 9:21 one), the subject was : “The biggest dog”… and when I opened the attachment it was a powerpoint document speaking about the dog of Mr FLYNN, that was an English mastiff and was called Hercules, just grew bigger and bigger from his birth on…
                      Apparently this is a hoax , but I thought the synch was really fynn ;))

                      #1891
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Interesting development in the SM research: those who can’t afford the actual mushrooms can drink the urine of those who can and have done; SM’s have the unusual property of remaining unmetabolized by the body….or something…..

                        #703

                        So you have requested audience… a deep voice, hoarse as a water’s torrent running and jumping on a river bed smothered with pebbles, asked from the darkness.

                        Midora was not afraid of the darkness. As best as she could explain it, it was the void of creation, where everything came from, and where all was stripped of intrinsic meaning. It was from this place that she could reach for the answers.

                        She knew this place, she felt memories swirling around, as uncatchable as a swarm of short-lived sparkles born from the reddish embers of a dying fire.
                        In this lifetime, she was only a eleven year old girl, but she was as old as this voice within her. There was a time where she was playing with that voice, a time where her being was not yet, and yet a time which was in her future.
                        She was pure consciousness in that dream time space, and yet, she was feeling more comfortable with physical symbols around herself. So she focused on one of the symbols that she knew would help her stabilize her vibration, and in doing so, all the small particles of golden light around her started to swirl and coalesced into a dream body.

                        She was in front of a cave, in a mountainous area. This body provided her a slowing down of the stream of information that came to her, and she could manipulate more efficiently the interaction with that huge presence she felt. The precipitous rocky environment was a symbol of that steadiness and slowing down and also, for her benefit of her beliefs in that acquiring such information might be a difficult task.
                        Now she had identified it, she could more easily dispel the obstacles on the path to the cave. The cave of course, was her symbol for reaching into her deep inner nature. And the darkness was only a fitting blank canvas for herself to project and translate the energy interactions.
                        All of that she knew, as it was knowledge embedded into herself that she could more easily access into this trance-like state, in her room in that location in space and time of 2112 in New Venice. And she knew that also for she was taught by her parents, Bart and Oscar, on how to access it.

                        The voice was inside the cave. And no sooner had she thought of it that she was finding the whole place morphing into a vast room built into the rock, in the middle of which a majestic golden dragon was slowly breathing.
                        She had translated the vast energy as that of a dragon, but she knew when she felt into it that it had possible variations, one of which being that of a she-phoenix, of various sizes, where sizes where symbolic of its age and wisdom.

                        You may call me Naasir the dragon grinned at Midora. You are right, in a sense, you can consider yourself being born from me, though in your true form, you are equally august and splendid as I am. You will, in time, have access to that form, again. But for now, I can provide some answers to your questions. The only thing is… Are your questions up to the challenge? he added with the most benevolent smirk his wide toothed grin could convey.

                        Midora pondered for a moment, beholding the perfection of her translation of the energy. Each scale on the body of the dragon was a work of art. His half-closed eyes, with an amber shiny center, and teal border were equally mesmerizing.

                        :fleuron:

                        — What is the significance of these books I have inherited from my parents?

                        As you know, this place is the place were significance fades away, or radiates, depending on the direction in which you look, only to be replaced by fulfillment. Your… books hence, have no significance, I would say, for me at least. What do you want to know about them?

                        — They were passed from people to people, and as far as I understood, they started to be imprinted with these people’s stories, starting from my grand-parents Indy and Cuthbert. But there are still blank pages inside them, and no seeming order from one page to the other. I think that’s why my grand-parents grew tired of it.

                        Continue…

                        — What I mean is… I feel attracted to them, and yet I don’t understand how they work…

                        These… are not mere books as your ancestors understood them. In fact, they were crafted by a distant civilization, not denizens from this dimension in which you are presently focused, but travelers, with whom you can still interact by means of this device. When the “books” traveled into this dimension, they retained their initial properties and functioning, but their initial shapes were translated into something as close as you could understand so that you would allow them to appear into your reality. This knowing might help you unravel their true nature.

                        Another thing. Books are energy deposits, in your reality. There was a misunderstanding in that they were thought to be able to liber or to free your memory by imprinting it into the pages, but memories are alive and not separate from you. They live as you live and change them. So, the books are still being written, and that which you can read is the part of the book which is the most probable story in which you choose to insert yourself, so as to explore it. You can alter these probabilities, even if you might doubt it, but as you chose them, they are much a part of your design of your reality, that which you chose to explore. In short, a complete book means the end of your exploration, and prompts for a disengagement for you to continue other explorations, and on the contrary, a blank books means a boundless realm of probable explorations.

                        — Can you tell me why there are two of them?

                        They are more than a couple. These ones are the only known ones that your ancestors happen to have found. Most of them have been destroyed over time in this dimension, as their possibilities were heavily cloaked. They are all linked together, as you will find out. You may gather some answers in finding Badul

                        And with that, Midora was once again floating in an intermediate state hung between space and time, longing for her physical body. She woke up strangely energized…

                        #702

                        There was a tantalizing scent of wildflowers and meadowgrass in the still cool air of the cave, and as Sanso rounded a bend in tunnel a gentle breeze ruffled the folds of his robes. He quickened his pace, gladdened by the welcome promise of an adventure outside of the endless labyrinth. The air felt cool and warm at the same time, and deliciously fresh and clean as it wafted towards him, and with a feeling of immense joy, he heard a snatch of birdsong.

                        It seemed like many long years that he’d been trudging around in the gloom and the stale air of the caves, although he suspected it wasn’t as long as that. Time played tricks on him, he knew that, while he was wandering around in the darkness. He’d missed Arona, and that strange baby, when he’d first set off alone again, but not for long. He knew when it was time to move on, and so he’d left them. From time to time he wondered if he’d encounter them again, and knew he would.

                        A shaft of sunlight spilled into the tunnel and Sanso stepped out into the light. The breeze was fluttering the birch leaves high above him, as he squinted up at the pale blue sky. Grinning happily, Sanso took his time adjusting to the light. He sat cross legged on the soft green grass, feeling it springy beneath his hands. Hundreds and thousands of red and yellow spotted toadstools stretched out as far as he could see, carpeting the forrest floor with polkadots of colour.

                        Sanso looked down at his hands. The creases of his skin and under his nails were engrained with reddish dust, and he wanted water more than anything, gurgling bubbling fresh clean water. He stood up, and shook his robes a bit, and set off into the woods.

                        Intuition told him which way to go to find water. He marvelled at tiny flowers, and scampering insects along the way, squashing fungi beneath his bare feet which oozed up through his toes with little squeaky noises.

                        A rabbit ran accross his path and stopped momentarily to stare at him and Sanso laughed out loud.

                        Oh! Who’s there?

                        A girl in bright flowered skirts was sitting on the grass in a clearing just ahead, rubbing her eyes.

                        Whoa, I must be dreaming, she said, and rubbed her eyes again. She peered at the apparition in indigo robes, with skin the colour of tobacco and wild matted hair. Am I dreaming? she asked Sanso.

                        Perhaps, perhaps not, replied Sanso, who wasn’t really sure. I may be dreaming myself. My name is Sanso, anyway, what’s yours?

                        Zhana, the girl replied, Well, Uncle Grishenka calls me Zhanochka, but I…but I….I hate him, and I’m not going back! And much to her surprise, she burst into tears.

                        Sanso was momentarily non-plussed, and wondered what to do next.

                        Well, dear, if you don’t want to go back, why, then don’t go back! He wasn’t quite sure what the problem was; after all, he’d been wandering for so many years on impulse and whim he hardly knew any other way to go about it.

                        I don’t know where to go instead though, Zhana said tearfully. The long dark cold will be here again soon, and I must have shelter somewhere…..who will have me, besides Uncle Grishenka?

                        What long dark cold? asked Sanso. It seemed light enough and warm enough here.

                        Oh, my! Zhana was astonished. You ask me what long dark cold? Where have you come from? How is it you don’t know of the long dark cold? Oh! Are you from Nishanti’s place?

                        Zhana stood up in some considerable excitement. Can you take me to Nishanti’s place? Oh please say yes!

                        Well, I, er, um…..well, I suppose so. Well, yes! Sanso didn’t want to let the girl down, although he wasn’t altogether sure he knew where Nishanti’s place was. But he was game to give it a try, and the company of the girl would be a welcome change.

                        Tell me about Nishanti, then, Zhana, and what her place is like. Sanso was hoping a few clues might ring a bell, perhaps.

                        Nishanti has been my friend for as long as I can remember, Zhana said. We dream together mostly, well, Zhana blushed, Uncle Grishenka says it’s all in my head…he say’s it’s nonsense….

                        Zhana squared her shoulders and carried on. Sanso had a kind look, and nodded encouragingly.

                        She hardly wears any clothes, and her skin is warm and brown. The sun always shines and the sky is always deep blue in her place and we play outside all year long. There’s always warm ripe fruits to eat, not turnips and noodles, colourful juicy berries and plump pink fishy things, and there are flowers all year long, and the water isn’t frozen, we can play in the water and it doesn’t turn our hands blue…..

                        Ah, the other side of the world…hhhmmm…..Sanso rubbed his whiskery chin thoughtfully.

                        Ok, I can’t promise we can find Nishanti, but I think we can find the other side of the world. But first, I’d like to find some water, and perhaps a little fresh food?

                        Zhana whooped with delight, and flung her arms around Sanso. Yes, yes!

                        #1681

                        In reply to: Synchronicity

                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          Some interesting development came today, as I was brooding a new comment about the twins and their books, and other sorts of interactions surrounding this.
                          I found out a new movie, based on a series of children books: Spiderwick, which features twins, an old book, and strange creatures.
                          Of course, there is the old mansion (in New-England, US), and the name is reminiscent of Wrick too. Not to mention the “spider” which is linked for me not only to the spiders on the island(s), but more so to Francie’s last discussions and post on her multiply blog which I happened to have found only yesterday, though I remember Francie mentioning it at the time.

                          The creators of these books are a writer (Holly Black) and an illustrator (Tony DiTerlizzi), so this is also a collaborative work, and probably a hint for success :face-grin:
                          By the way, with all these “holy” jokes recently, “Holly Black” seems like more than just a nice perspective :yahoo_yin_yang:

                          The website of the movie is also quite interesting to navigate inside, very well done…

                          #699
                          Jib
                          Participant

                            Georges and Salome’s journal

                            From Georges’ account of his first encounter with Shu Lom Agamon. Part III

                            We were now at the center of the structure formed by these twelve gates.

                            The energy currents of the different families involved in this exchange were almost palpable. I could allow my attention in whatever direction I wanted, and I was aware of different essences of the nine families of our dimension of origin. Salome was here with me, but not as objectively involved as I was, yet. She was supportive of this even as were the other essences. And I could feel other family structures involved in other dimensions. We were at the center of a multidimensional portal between all the dimensions, and I was focusing my main attention to the twelve gates of Alienor. I was aware of our different threads of attention in this area of consciousness, the one in which I was drawing to myself informations about the Alienor dimension, and the one in which Shu-Lom was drawing informations about our own dimension.

                            I was perceiving the gates in a certain order that was relevant in one particular exploration. The structure was directly springing from myself and I could feel that the structure that would be perceived by Shu-Lom would be quite different and individualized. The structure I was aware of in a particular dream was facilitating of certain informations, and even though there was a particular arrangement of the families in the Alienor dimension, between the dreams, and depending on where my attention was focused, the gates were reorganizing themselves.

                            Most of the time, I had the Almadar energy “behind” me, and the Meshran vibration before me. It was connected to my particular intent in the exploration of that dimension as a focus, and as essence.

                            Shu-Lom was more aligned with the Taa’Maroo and the Ulemjel families, the Holders and the Keepers. He explained to me that it was connected also to him being one of what I could only translate as “Guardians”. Those Guardians were strongly connected to the Taa’Maroo intent…

                            [the rest of the account is yet to be decrypted]

                            #696
                            Jib
                            Participant

                              Georges and Salome’s journal

                              From Georges’ account of his first encounter with Shu Lom Agamon. Part II

                              We first met in a series of dreams. I realized we were planning that even before we objectively took our decision with Salome to travel to this dimension, since in the dreams I was recalling previous encounters with him. Shu-Lom was a focus of Blöhmul, and Blöhmul was in many ways connected to this particular travel.

                              In the dreams we were meeting in a sort of semi spherical place, surrounded by 12 gates. The floor was composed of several materials, and the pattern was quite similar to the portal we used to travel to this dimension though a bit different as it included other aspect-tiles of the Jorid.

                              One of them was the diapason, vibrating between them both, and the compass was imprinted on the spherical ceiling, moving slowly like a starry night sky. The central triangle was showing some blended colorful energy patterns, changing with the orientation of their discussion.

                              — Each gate is connected with the others, was saying the Guardian, and you can use them to go wherever you want on the 3 planets. We created their physical manifestations, though they are not physical in the first place. The twelve gates are our representation of our own essence families in this dimension. I can tell you the names by which we call them if you want…

                              My silent acquiescing was enough, and as he was telling me the names, each corresponding gate was activated until they were all illuminating the room with their iridescent colors.

                              Part III

                              #670

                              Wait!

                              A small impish gnomesque figure wearing a black and white tunic adorned with a silver blazon was standing in front of Claude, formerly known as Number Four.
                              Claude was reading to fight, and extricate himself of that stinky situation, starting to feel the powerful strength the treatment had given him and feeling virtually unstoppable.
                              Considering that such a small individual, especially unarmed, wasn’t much of a threat, he stopped in his track, wondering if that was part of a subtle stratagem.

                              What do you want?
                              We do not want you harm, stranger. We are aware of the experiments which have been done on you, and we are sorry for what has been done…
                              Oh, don’t be, I feel better than I’ve been in ages
                              Yes, we saw that, though we are not that sure that the treatment effects are permanent either…
                              Not permanent? What have you done to me?
                              Nothing. There is nothing to fear from us, we are peaceful. We are a wing of a group of individuals whose primary skills lay in robbing. We are mostly hired to retrieve precious possessions in great discretion and you could consider yourself lucky to have seen us in our true form.
                              Us? How many are you?
                              A few… We gave you a mixture of plants and magnetite powder to help you stabilize your situation, apparently it has succeeded.
                              Mmm, perhaps yes…
                              Another thing you probably want to know before we help you get rid of these bandages if you want. During your sleep, you muttered lots of things, one of which was a name: “Sasha”.
                              Sasha?
                              Yes. I’m afraid we believe that the individual you were calling is dead. We monitored the doctor’s assistant when she disposed of the body. It was not pretty. I thought you should know.

                              Despite his mission, Claude couldn’t help but feel sorry; Sasha’s sweet voice had been such a comfort during the last days of his transformation…

                              Robbers they say… Hope we’re not after the same thing…

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