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  • #1308

    In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      September 24 th

      Quintin remembered a snapshot of the notes that Dory had taken during her first trip to the Madagascan caves, a year ago.

      Relevant extracts:

      At one moment, I saw some hooded figure in the sideways tunnels… He vanished on the left, couldn’t follow him…
      […] HE KNEW HIS WAY INSIDE !
      When he vanished, I had the vision of something, […] like the layout of a labyrinth, of cave tunnels — that are all underground and the many entrances are all over the world… PORTALS
      focus opening/doors ; time/space…
      The central cavernous part is some kind of key center, where anyone can meet…

      This has inspired Quintin to write some notes too.
      He has the vision of these portals organized as clusters, like a tree, with branches and leaves… I will send him a more detailed image, but that may take him some time to digest!

      September 26 th

      The latest additions to the story have inspired Quintin. He had some inkling of how “essence” (or what is somewhat referred as “oversoul” ) and all the “focus” of essence (or lifetimes) interplay, and are not as separate as they sometimes seem to be.

      Here would be what we will say to him, if he wants to listen:

      « Now, terminology can become tricky as, for much time, you have been accustomed to be considering of your experience as the projection of that of an “essence”, somewhat separate from you, the lowly focus.
      Of course, you pretend the contrary, and become quite nifty in brandishing sentences like “I am essence, and I create all of my reality”, which you are and do actually, but that you do not always believe and trust.
      These terms of “essence” and “focus” were given to you as means for you to better understand the interplay of consciousness. In the beginning of the acquaintance with these new terminologies, you have felt them remotely blurry and unrelated to previous concepts, which was the intention. But now, you once again objectify your understanding in something too rigid at times, and that little story is giving you a hint of what your real power is.
      And you begin to really experience it, and really pay attention.

      « As was expressed many times, “essence” is no thing. It is an action.
      The “essence” is each of you, that very portion of you that you feel when you slide your attention into the comment box.
      In that, your purpose, you see, is only to experience, nothing more, nothing less.
      And then time, as you know it, becomes irrelevant, you see. Your natural time is expressed through you and your explorations.
      Notice how playfully, as essence (essence playing focus or focus playing essence), you let your natural time unfold, and at times find some strange weather pattern in your awareness that needs clarification. As essence, you playfully find the most perfect habits [shapes and clothings] to wrap around you, and continue your story.
      Just as your dreams at night overlap and blend into each other.
      Just as Rafaela created new focuses [Sam and Becky] to continue to play and make the story expand for all of the other focuses, Dory included.

      « That “I” of you is ever present, and is reflected perfectly in others’ perceptions, as you are drawing them to you purposefully. Do not brush aside their adjuncts, for they are also you, having moved your pawns forward, so to speak, through their moves.

      « Thus understand that the story is a continuous stream reflecting the essence that is you, and your travel through the various guises you borrow.
      In that manner, it does not matter how much sense it makes in linear terms. Because, in a way, it can’t make sense in these linear terms.

      « Let us explain this in other terms.
      When you found difficulties in understanding the “scheme” so to speak, the figure that is drawn by the participants, it is because you apply the linear understanding of what such a scheme should be.
      In that, you only perceive the “plot” as a succession of dots without a continuity, whereas the continuity is to be found in the other stories interwoven.
      You are accustomed to stories where a single individual is enacting throughout the play, in a linear continuous fashion. The individual goes through many different actions, but is always the same in your perception.
      Here, the tricky thing is to notice the continuity throughout the various habits [clothings] taken by the essence(s). It matters not that the essence takes that guise of say, a pirate sailing on high seas, just after having been an old crafty Lord in his windy castle. The underlying aspects of his exploration has been continuous and coherent: in this case, exploring and making sense of one’s exploration. It is just that a certain appearance has been perhaps more fitting to express certain aspects or qualities of essence, but the exploration has been one, throughout the entirety of the experience.

      « We will let you ponder this, and we will continue our own story, writing about you… »

      September 28 th

      This sand symbol that Quintin has brought up seemed to have come from many directions at once. Each character has connected it, in various ways.
      Armelle (Arona) to her magic, Rafaela (Becky) to her collecting customs, etc. etc.

      Let us say that this symbol is not as innocent as it may seem. There are lots of associations with sand.
      It is solid, yet fluid. In association with water, it can be used to build, and also to erode. It can shift into many forms, one of which is your glass, and your electronic components.
      And most of all, it is, after your very oxygen, the most abundant constituent of your reality.
      It is almost limitless in your understanding.
      As is your magic.

      This magical device we made Quintin see in a visualization is an analogy of your very action of creation as essences.
      The sand which molds itself to make forms and shapes in three dimensions is in fact likened to your consciousness. Each grain of sand represents your links of consciousness that bind together to do your command.
      The shapes are moved by your essences, in which you may see that the essence is no thing at all, but is a continuous stream of action, not separate from others’.

      As Quintin said to Fiona, some individuals do differently when they create and shape their sands.
      In analogy with the coloured sands, some people like Quintin enjoy using other people’s colours in shaping his own characters, while some others prefer to keep their own colours, to create a more definite sense of individuality. But they integrate the others’ movements and shapes nonetheless, regardless of how much they perceive it to be coming from them.

      With that said, let us see how much more will appear from that sandbox…

      September 30 th

      The Wrick family tree as it is now (or “will be” drawn around the time of the twins in 2057).

      The Secret Life of Margaret Wrick , a newspaper cut from 2033.

      October 7 th

      The dragon Naasir’s dream
      A panorama illustrating the portals between the worlds created by each of the participants… But who is dreaming, really?

      And an illustration of Chiara’s encounter with the glutton “dreggun” Buckberry

      #79
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        These are excerpts from Yuki’s diary, explaining some of the details of the experiment called — Malvina’s story —.

        Note: for the reader not familiar with all the names here is a quick reminder:

        • Araili > Yann, Írtak, Sam, Jacob …
        • Armelle > Fiona, Arona, Tina, Qixi …
        • Rafaela > Dory, Illi, Becky, Rodney …
        • Yuki > Quintin, Al, Janice …

        September 12 th, 2007

        Today, an experiment has been launched by Quintin. Time will tell if it will bear some fruit, but the idea sounds good.
        Having people join in a story telling, and see what happens, what are the “lessons” one can draw from this…

        Armelle, Rafaela and Araili are already on the starting-blocks, though Quintin is not quite aware yet.

        I can hear some thoughts: Let’s say for the moment that there are no rules. We will see what prompts the desire for having rules…

        September 13 th

        Some of the people familiar with Janice and her friends’ adventures have already joined in with much enthusiasm.
        This first comment seems very promising.

        Right now, it feels easy and fun.

        Quintin seems to think that everything is very straightforward.
        The magical world with the cave in one part, separated from the “real” world. (Two Worlds, and he thinks that will be enough to content Rafaela, ahaha, how presumptuous)
        The first he sees as a representation of what psychologists think of as “subconscious”, and the other being the conscious, physical part.

        But of course, he thinks he knows better than that. He calls the first one “subjective” rather than subconscious, because it’s a translation of subjects which unfold in many related objects in the “objective” or physical world.
        That’s a good point, though a bit distorted. It would be better to say Malvina’s World is a translation of the subjective, in the manner of a Heroic Dimension.
        But the thing is, that he missed the point in thinking one World is more “real” than the other.
        We’ll be having some fun soon…

        First remark… The second comment of the story has been interrupted abruptly in the middle of a sentence. That is interesting. We will urge Quintin to leave it as it is, despite his feeling of it being awkward.
        We will appeal to his imagination.
        It seems he has heard the suggestion.

        September 14 th

        For the most part, the story starts to get much involvement. Lots of energies are being projected into it, and with every adjunct, each participant’s perception stretches to accommodate the changes and smooth out the bumps in their own sense of continuity.

        But as I expected, some challenges seem to appear already.
        Is it raining or not in that world?
        The question seems simple, but it is very profound and Fiona seems to struggle a bit with it, as is Quintin. The question frame itself [“that World”] shows where the difficulty lies.

        He seems to avoid the discrepancy and pretend that he has not seen it. Mmmm, avoiding the obstacles… that will very soon come right back in front of you dear Quintin, for Dory is quite playful.
        At least Fiona has been challenging Dory for not paying attention… Armelle’s ineffable loving ruthlessness!
        How will it unfold?
        Rafaela seems to be delighting herself as though she’s preparing some mischief, but Dory struggles in the “back”…

        September 15 th

        Dory is indeed very playful and her imagination is unrestrained. I extend much appreciation to this focus of Rafaela, especially as Quintin has to stretch his imagination to make things “fit”.

        Quintin is still avoiding the issues that appear sporadically and prefers to stay focused on his own perception of the story… Careful Quintin :face-smile:

        Yann joins the fun —objectively, that is, for Araili has been present already since the very beginning.

        September 16 th

        Halcyons days…
        My dear friend Archie is answering some of Quintin and Yann’s questions.
        Something starts to dawn on Quintin. But his mind is on other matters.

        He understands that the energies of the writers are melding in writing the story, but he still tends to think that they blend completely.

        September 18 th

        Quintin has been drawing some of the characters of the story. It’s interesting.
        He had good insights, as Yann will tell him later that his clothes today were exactly the same as the colours he had drawn.

        Characters drawn:

        • Mavina, Leörmn the dragon and weaszchilla, Írtak, Huÿgens (and Fjutch), Arona and Illi (the gripshawk)
        • Malika, Quintin, Yann, Fiona and Dory

        Interestingly, Fiona resolves her issues in her cave.
        Dory too, but she did not need the cave to do this.

        September 21 st

        For Quintin, the story seems to lose all common sense, as some characters move from World to World. You could have expected that Quintin!
        And Dory pops in and out, in her mind, in her dream state, or in future timeline mixed with present or past one.
        Quintin will soon realize that he himself is doing this constantly, though he does not register it.

        But the worst thing for him is that there are bleedthroughs in between Worlds. The Reality Times newspaper was brilliant Rafaela, a perfect trigger for the beliefs that the Worlds are closed and impermeable to each other!

        Archie has been answering new questions about that story and this had been quite interesting for all of the participants.
        There is much for them to digest from the realization that each of them had been creating their own versions of the stories through their perceptions. And that they were each having their version of the story, drawing from each other’s input, like a conductor of an orchestra incorporating some instruments.

        Of course, some things still matter, and one of the point of the story is also to discover these.

        September 22 nd

        Quintin has been drawing new characters.

        Characters drawn:

        • Båd Al’Guz (Bådul), BelleDora, Buckberry the dragon, the twin dragon eggs, Archibald the parrot, Sanso the Wanderer
        • Illi Fergusson, another Illi that Quintin has tried to sneak in as a bait for Dory, with hints that she is disengaged (or “dead” in common vernacular) and merges with others of her focuses…
        • Jacqueline Bleomelen (Nanny Gibbon), Lord Wrick, his great grand children the twins Cuthbert and India Louise, Manfred, William P. Jobsworth the painter

        A new perception trick: Dory felt relieved upon seeing the moth feelers of BelleDora.
        She had at first thought they were whiskers, which was not Quintin’s intent…

        September 23 rd

        Quintin seems to have connected to a map drawn by Lord Wrick, when the old Lord has started to document his great grand children travels.

        Quintin had tried to put some annotations on this fragment, but he doesn’t yet completely understand that his perception of this World, though accurate, is only valid in this present moment, and may change at any time.

        Up to now, here are the names he could find:

        • North: the Icy Lands, and Dragon Cemeteries
        • Center: Goldfindely, homeland of Arona, connected to the Warring Kingdoms of Lan’ork by the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer. The Isthmus of the Dragon Head seems to lead to Malvina’s cave and hideout. Mount Elok’ram is pointed as the highest place of the World yet discovered. Three main rivers are drawn: in the ancient myths of the people of this land, they represent the three Daughters of Ghört, weavers of men’s destinies: Tibreÿa, Uleÿa, and Snimeÿa. Snimeÿa cuts the thread of life, which is shown as the river leads after many meanders to the Marshes of Doom.
        • Far East, North: the Land of Båd Al’Guz, Åsgurdy. A harsh mountainous land of islands and seas.
          Both parts of the World seem to ignore each other till now, as they are separated by the Great Rift, which in the past has deterred many intrepid navigators.
        • South: the Desert Lands. Illi’s birthplace, rarely explored by humans thus unaware of most of its marvels, gripshawks nomadic tribes included.

        When he discussed Arona’s village with Fiona, Quintin had the vision of some dolphin-like creatures, but bright yellow. They are called golfindels and are mostly seen on the northern shores of Arona’s homeland, which is thus called Golfindely.

        #270

        Oörlaith heard the sound of a barking dog not far from her rookery. They were back with his master, and she knew at once their mission was complete.

        A few months ago she had met a strange man, he told her he was called Leonard, and the funny black dog that was following him everywhere was called Moufle. An ancient word for mitten… Well she didn’t ask why he’d call him like that, the dog was so hairy…

        Leonard was a lonely traveller, quite ancient as she could feel, but she wasn’t able to know his actual age. And there were some other weird feelings when she was focusing on his energy tone, something to do with time itself.

        When she first met him she knew he was the one she was looking for for ages. It’s been such a long time she hadn’t heard from her sisters. Oörlaith’d been having these dreams since they chose different direction many years ago, Malvina and Roselÿn, her precious ones. It wasn’t necessary for her then to keep objective contact with them through the glubolín.

        One year ago, the dreams stopped abruptly, and she tried several methods to reach her sisters. None of them with success. All her attempts failed, and she thought first she had lost her own power, but she knew one can not loose power of self, just forget it or create it on purpose. She realized then it was time to recreate these links more objectively.

        She couldn’t find her glubolín though. And Leonard arrived. Fortunately enough he had news from some strange events occurring in the land where she knew Malvina had settled her rookery. Was she still here with Leörmn?

        ***

        Yann had been feeling many impulses to draw scenes from his dreams and from the story they were creating with Quintin, Fiona, and Truth. It was an urge from inside and last night he had a very intense dream activity, most of which he couldn’t remember, it was more like a big forum with many different personalities all exchanging experiences and exploring new avenues.

        He was also attracted by old stories he was writing when he was a student, the one involving Georges and Salome, it seemed to him they had taken a life of their own now, and they felt very powerful, and most of all, they felt like really having fun.

        One of the drawing that was intriguing him was one that represented a sign of sort, in grayish sparkly clouds. He had given the pic a strange title, Oorlath. Yann had connected the name to an individual and was surprised when Quintin told him about a princess named Oörlaith. He was wondering who she was…

        She still had no face when he thought of her… maybe she was hidden for the moment… and he had the strangest thought that she knew Leonard, the man he’d been drawing with his black hairy dog.

        Haha, he had felt her smile.

        ***

        Chiara was looking for the boy she’d met last time in her dreams. Maybe he could give her some berries again, they were really tasty and fluberrish.

        But she’s been looking for him for so long she wonder if she could find the way again…

        Where she was now felt different. The light? The air? She took a deep breathe and just sat down on the grassy land. She had a quick thought that the land were more rocky than grassy a few seconds ago, but as she was feeling the grass under her hands, she dismissed the thought.

        She was hearing birds singing, it was quite funny the way they were bounding from one sound to the other and she could understand what they were saying, much gossips and a few compliments for a new mother ;)) nothing really important to her. She Jibbled.

        Lying down on the mossy land, she was looking… mossy? wasn’t it grassy? Now it’s mossy… hope that wouldn’t become mothy ;))

        She was looking the clouds, some were grayishly sparkling, she was enjoying it…

        “Are you looking for something” a voice said.

        Chiara quickly sat up and gazed at the fat lady who was standing before her.

        “Hahahaha, you found me at least my dear” laughed the woman.

        “My name is Roselÿn, and you are Chiara, aren’t you?”

        The little girl was gaping at Roselÿn… how could she possibly know her name?

        “I feel I know you :yahoo_thinking:” she said dreamily.

        “You make me feel like when I’m with my uncle Yann, and… there’s something else… oh!?”

        #266

        Sanso didn’t notice that the creature called Madrake was rolling his eyes. While he explained to the rather odd but delightfully enchanting Arona the finer points of sabulmantium technology, he was thinking about what Arona had just said about her mission. Her overall mission, she’d said, was to learn all about magic.

        Sanso wondered what his own mission was and didn’t think he had one. Unless his mission was a glorious infinite wandering, threading multicoloured silken skeins of clues and riddles, people and places, weaving them in and out of time and to each other….the never ending tapestry, ever changing and splendid in it’s magnificence…..

        Arona was looking up at Sanso with barely hidden astonishment, and he blushed ever so slightly when he realized he’d been speaking out loud. Shouting actually, his deep voice booming out with joy and passion, his wild gesticulations causing Arona to flinch and take an involuntary step backwards.

        Suddenly both Arona and Sanso saw the funny side, giggles erupting into gales of laughter until tears rolled down their cheeks and they collapsed on the floor whooping and snorting and wiping their eyes, not really knowing, in the end, what they were laughing at…..

        #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.

        #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.

        #197

        Illi was getting used to being dead. At first she thought she was still alive, when she fell down the hole and landed on the smelly wet lump. The realization dawned gradually, so that it wasn’t too much of a shock. She had started to notice a strange dreamlike quality to everything, and no sooner had she imagined or thought of something, it materialized around her instantly.

        #189

        The feelings of the eggs was increasing, Írtak was close now. He could feel the pulse and where he thought it was only one egg, he could feel now that there were two of them, though the vibrations were so close to each other that he had been “fooled” in a way.

        He smiled, happy that he could bring back two eggs.

        When he entered the room where they had been layed, there was that sparkling green glowing all around, the waves or energy coming from the eggs were very lively and joyful. The communication between them was so strong and loving that he was almost overwhelmed by the feelings.

        They were aware of his presence and they greeted him. No words needed to feel they were eggstremely eager to live…

        They were still soft and smooth, the shell had not hardened yet. They were quite big actually and he wondered a moment how he would bring them back. His concern surely was transparent and he could feel the reassuring energy of Malvina.

        He felt a surge of energy and knew she would open a gate between the room he was in and the rookery… she connected and created a connection between the two spaces and he saw the entry of the room blurred somewhat and soon he heard the sound of the waterfall of the rookery… new flowery scents came into the room and as he was picking up the first egg he found out that they were welded together… dragon twins. He felt awed for a few seconds as the energy ripples from the eggs were increasing since his realization.

        They would help him in his task. Humming silently and quite directively.

        The eggs seemed so light with that eggstra energy.

        He could bring them in the moistly and warm rookery. He laid them down near the waterfall but not too close so they wouldn’t be bothered by the rippling sounds. And close enough so that they would be warmed up by the heat of the spring.

        He felt Malvina’s smile, and Leörmn acknowledgment of what happened there. He felt an intense bond between them.

        The baby dragons were not to be born yet, but they each already knew who would be their dragon rider.

        One last stroke on the shells.

        One last glance on the emerald green glowing eggs.

        He shivered with anticipation.

        He would be back soon for the hatching…

        #187
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Sanso was very hungry. He’d been living on the fungus that grew inside the dampest parts of the cave, but the recent stretches of tunnel had been much drier, sandy even. He hadn’t found a cave entrance for days and longed to step out of the cave into air and sunlight and green things, and find something fresh and juicy to eat.

          Beginning to feel quite despondent, and with the hunger and thirst making his body ache terribly, he sat down, crumpled into a heap on the sandy floor. He lay back, stretching out flat and slept for what seemed like days.

          He woke up mumbling the name Eggleton, which reminded him of a dish he’d encountered at one of the cave entrance worlds. He’d wandered into a beautiful strange green and rainy land, and followed the delicious aroma of something that seemed so delightfully familiar, that he couldn’t quite place, something that reminded him of mornings. Coffee! He remembered now. The smell of coffee had led him to a door with big brass numbers on it: 57. He opened the door and peered round it, wondering if he’d be welcome. It had seemed as though nobody was there, but a table was laid for one, with scrambled eggs on toast (freshly cooked as if whoever had prepared it had known eggsactly when he would arrive) and a steaming pot of black coffee.

          Sanso stretched and realized his many aches and pains had been eased by the sleep on the soft sand on the cave floor, and the dry atmosphere, and slowly opened his eyes. Lying flat on his back, he was looking directly up at the tunnel ceiling. There was a door in the ceiling, strangely parrallel to the floor, an odd position for a door, he thought. His heart lurched and his stomach growled again with hunger as he noticed the large brass numbers on the door: 57.

          #161
          Jib
          Participant

            Yann had been having these strange dreams and impressions since he’d been in that cave during his last trip to Scotland. In the cave he had that strange impression of a dragon roaring, but he’d rationalized that with the noise of the falls, it was quite deafening. It’d been raining for so much time that the amount of water streaming through that cave was amazing… the visits had been suspended because they feared floods and they couldn’t really explore the cave then. All he could do then was picking up a pebble for Fiona, a pebble he had still to send her :D

            After that, he’d had the weirdest impression to be observed by dragons… they felt quite big, and event though he tried to tell himself it was some effect of his imagination, he was still uneasy about that.

            The imagery of dragons had continued with his discussion with Quintin, who told him he had drawn that very cave… in which there were dragon eggs and their keeper. A strange harper woman. When he’d been shown the painting, Yann had that feeling of déjà vu, and the kid attending the newborn dragon on the upper right of the picture had aroused an intense desire to do that very action.

            “The tunnels had been changed again”, he thought first.

            That weird thought made him laugh and he couldn’t tell to Quintin why… yet.

            And last week there was his friend Anastasia who was coming back from a trip to Budapest where she had seen so many dragons in the hotel, in the museums, and there was that parade, they were calling that the dragon’s parade, and it was music and parties all the Saturday night. She enjoyed that tremendously. She even told him she had the impression of being a dragon when looking in the mirror right after that night.

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