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  • #1974

    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      WOW… lots of interesting ones in that cloud here:

      — Once under thinking, session clear words God/Human waiting speaking word, language beginning feeling looked. Key herself aware […]
      — Gaughran home looking funny random energies
      — Tracy floating, magic color seemed trip
      — Points side mountains, process great
      — Bugger difficult! Nice interesting moment link :bounce: creating action
      — Trust help face aspects seems play
      — Structures changing… Dancing green heart Finn
      Badul getting synch princess
      Twilight book important
      Elikozoe stories singing magical times. Able feel sort understand images mind, read Armelle. Voice started moments sync call Maevel

      #543

      The bal room was ready. Malvina was looking around and decided that all was perfect now
      She felt the subtle ripples of her friends energy. Sam was waiting patiently their arrival.

      The east wall just blurred and began to glow lightly of deep teal and emerald shades, blended in a beautiful and quite creative whirlpool.

      Malvina just moved her attention on the encoding of her hair and shift slightly some hue to express a dark stary night, sparkling and full of mystery.

      A thrill went through her body as she saw Georges and Salome emerge from the wall… and she burst into laughter at the sight of the marmoset which was looking at her with such a big smile :face-monkey:

      Her laugh rippled through the crystals of the cave, making their light iridescent and swinging.

      WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! A giant disco ball :bounce: just for us.

      Georges couldn’t stop laughing and began dancing as Salome was generating a peppy and swinging music… he was all jumping and swirling, and Sam was jumping all around, barking at him with joy.

      — What the hell, began Leörmn but he was fascinated.

      And that’s when a wavy Irtak entered the discave with his 2 dragons… they immediately changed shape and began to swirl around with Georges, and Irtak was wondering if he was dreaming or if it was another process in his discovery… he was feeling as if he was dancing as the man-Georges. :yahoo_hypnotized: His body just started moving following the movements of Georges and they were just one.

      #535

      Anita woke up in a strange world. She wasn’t in the plane. Her parents were not here. She began to feel afraid but a movement in her periphery made her look on her left.

      — MeoWrrrl! It’s about time Pashi, you slept for about 3 days. We had some difficulties bringing you in this safe place. But the spiders are looking for you.

      — Lynxie! Where are my parents?

      She woke up and hugged the Lynx.

      — Wowl Wowl, they had been taken by the spiders. That was their choice. In a manner of speaking they did it so you could live. We used their loving energy to focus and take you away of all that mess.

      — The spiders? What spiders? How can a spider take an adult? You mean there were a lot of them?

      — Meowmm! A lot yes, and also quite huge ones. But you already know them. And…

      Araili’s gaze blurred for a few seconds and Anita felt that he was accessing her energy.

      — Their Elder, she knows you also, you are connected strongly. You’ll meet her in time. Meowrrrrrl :yahoo_eyelashes: Are you hungry?

      The little question distract her attention from all what she was about to ask about her parents and the situation. Yes she was quite hungry, but Lynxie said she’d been sleeping for 3 days? Her stomach was growling quite loudly.

      — Yes, I think so.

      Flap, flap, flap. :yahoo_angel:

      — Oh Owlie! :bounce:

      A beautiful SnOwl was bringing the breakfast. A basket with fruits and breads and all that she could have imagined for her breakfast.

      — Pashi, Araili had told me you were awake, the others are coming. Rafaela is bringing your some milk ;)) I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.

      #1965

      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

      AvatarJib
      Participant

        seemed change despite important quickly bull started god mountains making worry lucille dark illi process fox far kept comment looking play

        :yahoo_billy:

        #498

        some writing by Twilight

        Jo fixed me up a swing. It hung from the old elm tree out the front. That’s my favourite place. I just sit there rocking and thinking, and thinking and rocking. Sometimes I would weave stories or sometimes I would dream about when I am real famous. I know I will miss Jo and Elroy, but then I cheer myself up thinking how, when I am rich, I will visit them and give them money and presents and how fine that will be.

        Elroy and Jo don’t know about my stories or how I love to write. I ain’t much good. I didn’t get much schooling but Elroy helped me some and then I would try and teach myself the rest. The only book we have is a big old bible. That is written in real fine words. The part I like the best is a song that Solomon wrote. I don’t know how the tune went but the words are real nice. It is real romantic too. I dream one day some man will use words like that to me. Not like those drunken slobs round these parts. Anyway, that’s how I know I am not much good, because I can’t write nothing like Solomon. But I try anyway.

        Yesterday I was sitting out on the swing rocking and thinking and young Dan from the ranch over the way turned up on his horse. He looked real hot and red and sweaty. Mostly though, he is real fine looking, and I confess I have a soft spot for him. So I leapt off the swing real quick and straightened myself up and bit my lips to make them all big and red. I wanted him to see I had developed some in the last little while.

        Where’s your brothers, Twi? he said to me.

        I felt he didn’t seem to be giving me the appreciation I hoped for, so I did a little flick of my head and gave him the look I had been practising. I had seen the other girls do this look to the men at the saloon, and it seemed to work a treat. I gestured at the same time, real slow and casual, and I said “Out the back, Dan.” in a honey voice.

        He started to ride off, like he was in a hurry. But then he stopped. My heart did a little flutter. He said to me, “You know Twi, the boys at the ranch were talking about you. And it wasn’t the sort of talk should be said about a lady”.

        When Dan said that, I felt he had kicked me in the guts. I wanted to gasp. But I am plenty used to putting up with things and not showing my true feelings, so I just looked at him real cold. Then I spat. I have been practising my spitting and I can do it real good now. Nearly as good as Jo.

        “I am just telling you Twi he said. I thought he would say more, but he seemed to reflect for a moment, then shook his head and off he went in a hurry to find the boys.

        Elroy and Jo looked real bothered when I saw them later. I knew when to hold my tongue so I did not give them no smart talk, and I cooked up a real fine bean dish for their supper. It was real quiet over the table that night. Truth was, I still felt mighty bad over what Dan had said.

        I confess I felt some cares and sadness on me that evening when I went to bed, and found I could not sleep. I got out my diary and thought I would do some writing.
        I tried to write what my name, Twilight, means to me. My real name is Tina Willemine Ivy El Disperso. I always been called Twi. Then Hank at the saloon, he says one night, “I am calling you Twilight and that sort of caught on. It made me feel special, having my own stage name.

        I started writing. Lavender blue sky bleeding into the dark. I thought that sounded quite a good start to my writing, so feeling a bit encouraged I went on some more: Twilight is a magic time. It is the time I see things that aint there, but maybe they could be. My eyes play tricks on me in the half light and I feel like I could be anyone. I feel like I could be someone who I isn’t. Twilight is the time of promises. The promise and mystery of the night to come. It is inbetween time when you know the ordinary stuff could be magic.

        I stopped. I weren’t never going to be able to write like Solomon. I knew that and I felt real bad. At least I could dance though, and that was going to make me famous. But that thought could not cheer me up this night and I confess I cried myself to sleep like a baby.

        #497

        Hank, the saloon pianist, was hopelessly in love with Anna.

        But she had so many wooers, I hadn’t dared say how much he loved the blond dancer. For fear of public ridicule mostly, as he didn’t think he was very good-looking, with his horse-face… Not that she really cared with all these men having gone into her bed. But he couldn’t take the risk. Better a life in her shadow than taking a chance and spoil everything.

        He had always been here to care for her.
        When that young one had came to dance too, he’d been the one to make it easy for them. Or he thought he did…
        What was annoying Anna the most was that the newcomer would be using a blond wig and that might eclipse her. Of course, that wasn’t what Anna had said, but Hank knew her well enough to understand.
        He was the one coming up with that idea of Twilight as a stage name for the other one, keeping the shining Dawn for Anna. Like sisters, yet worlds apart. Apparently they both had found the idea great, and even if for Hank, Dawn and Twilight were different movements of the same seesaw, for Anna, it was pretty obvious that Dawn came before Twilight.

        When Anna had been fat with her blue-eyed baby boy, he had been providing her some shelter for some time. It was so obvious for everybody that nothing could happen between them… Anna was oblivious, trying to get herself a proper husband. She had almost convinced that Jo that he was the father. Hopefully Hank had thwarted the attempt. He had his own idea of who was the father, and that wasn’t something to be proud of.
        And Hank had better keep his mouth shut, as the guy in question wasn’t one to allow being tickled on such sensitive subjects.
        In the end, Anna got fed up with all his attentions, called him a sticky leech. How ungrateful…

        Now she was with that old bloke… A fat half-bald guy with long unkempt greyish greasy hair who had lost his wife, eloped with their former neighbour. The story had provided a good laugh to everyone who was well aware of it. But somehow Anna took compassion for that Manuel — who was nicknamed the Bar Rook due to his pressing penchant for alcoholic beverages.

        Hank was finding Twilight more interesting… Free of romantic bonds and dazzlingly beautiful as she was growing.
        Once in the beginning of her representation he had found her crying behind the bar, after having been hauled around by Anna once again.

        She had told him an interesting story about her wig. It was a gift from her mother’s foster sister. The two women had suckled the same Ol’ Granny Lucy and had kept very close over the years. But her mother’s foster sister had a tough life, and she made a business of selling her golden hair to make wigs. Twilight’s was one of those. A gift from this aunt, which was all the more dear and precious to her. She had said to Twilight that it would draw to her good fortune, and fame too…
        It was easy for Hank to imagine that to become true.

        #487

        Jo was looking at Mc Gaughran. He didn’t like him. Especially since he was so insistant at buying their ranch. It was not the price that was important. Mc Gaughran had offered them much already and Jo was a bit shamefull that he even once considered the offer. They had a little argument about that with Elroy, and he had felt very tore appart opposing his brother. He was very close to him and was admiring him so much.

        And he was feeling very protective toward his sister. She could do whatever she wanted, that was not the point. The point was he didn’t want other to bother her. And that Mc Gaughran was looking at her a bit too insistantly to his taste.

        He finished his whiskey an looked at the barman, Thomas. He was a very good friend of Elroy and him and was like a giant dwarf, stout and big red beard. He knew he could count on him to have a look at the man.

        — Have to go, Tommee, he mumbled. Be back later.

        Despite his disgust of Mc Gaughran, he also had some stuffs to check about the new man in town. He was feeling a bit unseasy as if some things would be unfolded, things that should better stay burried. He left the saloon like a shadow.

        #475

        It had been real hard since Momma and Poppa weren’t around no more. Twilight was four when they got shot dead, and she could hardly remember their faces now. Sometimes she had memories come to mind, this real pretty woman, brushing her hair at night. One hundred strokes, she would say, make your hair real pretty. It made her feel sad because she wished it were true.

        Her brother Jo, he was only ten when they got killed. He was the one found them. They’d been shot. Jo, he took it real hard. Sometimes he’d get this far away and sad look and Twilight knew he was remembering. She wanted to hug him, but he’d be all shut off.

        Anyways it was real hard to keep the ranch going after that. Her brother Elroy, he was the oldest. He was fifteen when Momma and Poppa died. So he took on being the man of the house. Sometimes he would try and boss Jo and her round, and Twilight would give him a real hard time. She was just jesting though, she knew he was just doing his best to keep the El Disperso Ranch running and she was real proud of him.

        It was real hard though. Winter had been hard. They all were fearing they might have to sell the blue bull just to keep the wolves from the door next winter. Elroy, he was right pig headed though about that bull. Jo would say to Elroy “we have to sell that bull, Elroy and Elroy would get mad and say “no ways we selling that bull Jo”. One day they nearly came to blows over that bull.

        It was the only time Twilight seen Elroy get real mad with Jo. They were real close those two. They were all close really. They had to keep together when Momma and Poppa died. Uncle Bart turned up at the news of their folks dying, wanted to take the ranch, but Elroy , well he got Poppa’s rifle and chased Uncle Bart away. Elroy said he would have shot Uncle Bart had he tried any harder to take the ranch. Twilight would look in his eyes when he told the story and she knew he weren’t jesting. A few others tried to interfere also. Somehow they all stayed together and kept the ranch.

        Elroy won that blue bull. It was real rare and very fine and people would pay plenty for a bull like that bull. Elroy said he won it anyhow. He turned up with it one day, and he was real quiet. Twilight saw him whispering to Jo, and Jo looked real concerned. She thought it best not to ask too many questions and so she kept what she seen to herself. But she couldn’t help but be wondering.

        Twilight wanted to help take the load off her brothers so she got herself a job dancing in the saloon in town. She liked to call it performing though. Sounded more high class. She watched the other dancers till she taught herself to do it. She would hide in the saloon and watch them. That was one good thing about not having a Momma and a Poppa. She could pretty well do what she wanted. She liked dancing and she knew she were real good at it and pretty soon she was the dancer everyone wanted to see. She’d rather have a Momma and Poppa though, truth be told.

        One of the other girls, Anna, she was real pretty too, got jealous and tried to get Twilight kicked out, said she was too young to be dancing . Anyhow Anna had a soft spot for Jo and so he soon sweet talked her round. Jo and Elroy were real good looking boys, and plenty of girls liked them so Twilight was pretty lucky to have them look out for her. ( Elroy said she should wear a blond wig for her dancing, like a disguise, and Twilight thought this was real funny. But she wore it anyway.) Anna got pregnant, and she said Jo was the daddy, but everyone in town knew she slept with plenty of fellows, and Jo weren’t having a bar of it. Anna got real fat with the baby and had to stop dancing and now she lived with some old fellow who was always drunk and would eye up Twilight when she was dancing. Sometimes Twilight would tease Jo about the baby and call him “daddio” and he would get real mad with her. But could be his, that’s the truth. Poor little baby but she were glad Jo weren’t stuck with that Anna.

        Twilight knew the men looked at her. She knew what they were thinking and she didn’t mind. She weren’t no fool though. She had plans. She was going to be somebody, not laid up with some damn sprog like that Anna. Some of the money she earned she’d give to Elroy, some of it she put in a tin can she kept hidden.

        Last night some fellow from out of town came in. A sheriff. She heard the girls whispering and giggling about him. Sheriff Ted Marshall was his name. He was real fine looking and all the girls were in a flutter hoping he would look at them. Twilight wondered what he was doing in town. She hoped it were nothing to do with that bull of Elroys.

        #464

        His senses were now hightened and he could feel the multi-layered energy patterns of the cave created by Leörmn. He could feel the connections with Leörmn and that they were part of him as he was part of them too. His foffing aspect just rippled inside the cave and for a few seconds added a green hue in the energy of the cave, rendering it smoother and a green flourishing moss began appearing in some hidden places.

        — There is different probable paths for us to follow. Different qualities and different probabilities to emerge :)

        She smiled, looking at him observing her energy. Their energy fields were merged as often when they were together. Their colors were blending, adding new qualities to their expressed focuses in this dimension.

        — We are following all of them, beloved, she said grinning. I don’t want to actualize in this particular focus the quickest though I want to lof a little before.

        He was seeing Salome’s energy intertwined and blended with all the energy of this dimension. Some more present, some lighter and not so focused in this particular area… she was observing him observing the blueprints also, they were fascinating… a bit different from what he was remembering from his last visit. They had changed them… well he also had changed them. It was a new exploration. From this particular interest in the new qualities added he felt he was creating new focuses to explore these and also new essences decided to fragment and explore differently, again changing the vibrational tone of the dimension… it was a continuous and wondrous process.

        The marmoset was shining blue, still full of Salome’s energy. Leo’s energy pattern seemed quite new to this dimension.

        — You are the one who introduced them in this dimension, he smiggled cunningly, I feel others are coming now. They find it quite fun and welcoming here.

        They both laughed and She grinned slyly.

        — Well I’m a Path Opener, you know..

        Leo jumped on her right shoulder and wrapped his tail around her neck possessively. He did that little squick she was so fond of.

        Sam has been following us also. She said. I feel she’s already with Malvina and jumping all around the place. Time to go before she messes the cave around :))

        — Well this way then my precious :>

        She saw him shift his attention sideway a little and his energy hue changed, becoming a bit more mustard, the tunnels around them were becoming translucent and he walked through the rocky mount in the direction of the sky blue energy of their beloved friend Malvina.

        #461

        Jose Maria stood sadly in front of the plate glass window. He avoided looking in mirrors, tried to forget his disfiguring scars, but occasionally he caught sight of his reflection in a window, and it always came as a shock. He avoided leaving the finca as much as possible, but had felt obliged to visit his frail and aged mother in the Residencia old folks home. His uncle Juan had come trundling up the dirt track to the farm in his clapped out old Citroen van, with the news that Josefina was expected to die within the week, and Jose Maria had agreed to make the trip into town.

        A pointless trip really, Josefina hadn’t recognized him, had called him Sally at first, and tried to kiss him; and then later she’d shrunk from him in fear, calling him Pierre.

        *****
        Three days later Josefina was dead. Jose was required to make another trip into town, much to his dismay, to the funeral. He stood quietly at the back during the ceremony, next to his cousin Paquita, who was attempting to hide a bad case of acne behind her long black hair. Jose Maria smiled at her kindly, and she smiled gratefully back.

        Paquita and Jose stayed close to each other for the rest of the day, and Paquita’s family invited Jose to spend the night at their apartment in town. Jose hesitated, but when he noticed Paqui’s hopeful expression, he relented and accepted courteously.

        Long after the rest of the family had gone to bed, Jose and Paqui sat on the balcony overlooking the industrial estate and the superstores, in companiable silence. Jose’s scars, and Paquita’s acne no longer visible in the darkness, they had both relaxed, and wondered vaguely why they’d never really noticed each other before.

        Paqui broke the silence. Well, you’ll have no worries now about money, Joselito.

        What do you mean? asked Jose.

        Well, Josefina won the lottery, and you’re her only child, Jose, it will all be yours.

        Jose’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. Lottery? Oh you must be mistaken, my mother doesn’t have any money. WHAT lottery win?

        #460

        Dory’s stopover at Heathrow airport was longer than expected, due to the knock on effect of delays caused by the air traffic controllers strike in Paris. She bought coffee in a paper cup and went and sat in the cramped smoking room. A couple of middle aged overweight women were sitting opposite her, their chubby knees almost touching Dory’s in the unpleasant little nicotine yellow room.

        Dory couldn’t help but listen to their conversation, and had to bite her lip on several occasions to prevent herself interjecting questions. Dory wanted to ask where this Tikfijikoo Island was. There was something about the sound of it that caught her attention, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on the strange feeling it gave her to hear the name.

        The two women, who appeared to be named Shah and Glaw, were apparently on their way to an island to participate in some kind of experimental treatment, Dory gathered, organized by a Dr Bronklehampton. On hearing the name of the doctor, Dory had a series of images flit through her mind. One of them was of an impish looking redhead with an incredibly large head, doing the tango.

        When the two plump ladies left the smoking room, Dory followed them. They bought magazines in the airport shop, and boiled sweets ‘in case their ears went’, and deliberated over sunscreen lotion, and then after some inaudible whispering, in which Dory heard only the words ‘treatment’ and ‘skin’, apparently decided against purchasing any of the skin care products.

        Dory followed them into the public lavatories, and learned that ‘our Mavis’ would be joining them for the treatment, and listened to a great deal of rather unkind comments about ‘our Fred’ and his bullying ways. On the way out of the Ladies Room, the bleached blonde named Shah collided with a bag lady, at which point Dory saw a shower of bright blue sparks in her peripheral vision. The bag lady looked up and laughed at Shah and her friend and said ‘It matters not, my friend….HA! HA! HA!’, and winked at Dory as she shuffled past.

        Dory followed the ladies to the baggage check-in desk. Yukailli Airlines. Dory had never heard of it; new airlines starting up all the time, she thought, and such silly names, like that Be My Baby one…what a daft name for an airline. Dory sauntered past, as she couldn’t really stand behind them without arousing suspicion. She was momentarily swallowed up in a swarm of Italians, there must have been two coachloads of them. By the time they’d passed her, Dory had made a decision. She would book a ticket to Tikfijikoo, hopefully on the same plane as Shah and Glaw.

        She turned around briskly, fleetingly wondering what to say to Dan and Becky about her sudden change of plans, and made her way back to the Yukailli Airlines desk.

        That’s funny, she said out loud, It was right here!

        She scanned the names above the row of desks….British Airways, Monarch, Air France, Qantas…..but no Yukailli Airlines. Dory asked at the Airport Information desk.

        I’m sorry madam, there’s no airline of that name here, the young man behind the desk informed her, looking at her quizzically.

        Dory opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish, and wondered for a moment if she had imagined it. Just then someone bumped into her shoulder, causing her to spin round. It was the bag lady she’d seen earlier in the Ladies room.

        Leaving at Gate 57 and three quarters, the bag lady whispered, and winked conspiratorily.

        Dory’s mouth fell open. She was about to say Oh now really, what is this, Harry Potter Airport? but something stopped her. Instead she asked, But what about tickets and baggage check? But the bag lady had gone.

        #453
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          As Arona started to turn away, Lucille called her back.

          Arona, my dear, I have a gift for you. A story.

          Oh, I don’t think I have time for stories, but thanks anyway, said Arona, anxious to get going.

          A little bit rudely disregarding Arona’s objections, Lucille continued:

          Once there were several people standing around a lake in which the full moon was reflected. They discussed the reflection. One person said it was an egg, another said “No, someone must have drowned, it is a bald head”. “Rubbish” said another, “clearly it is a balloon in the water.” One thought the moon was yellow, another thought the reflection of the moon was very emotional. Someone else thought it was soft. Why they had quite a discussion about the reflection of the moon and each one had a separate and disparate view of things. Of course they did, they were looking at it from different perspectives. All were looking at the reflection and not the the moon itself shining in the sky.

          Arona, Lucille said intently, Each person’s perception of the moon reflected in the water, tells us as much about that person as it does about the moon itself. Remember that.

          Arona tried not to giggle, she felt Lucille was getting a little carried away with this moon talk.

          Lucille, undeterred, continued; That’s the best any of us can do, is offer our own perspective. But it is just a point of view. Don’t you worry about who others think you are, unless that’s what you choose also. You be free. You trust yourself Arona and you will shine brightly like the moon.

          I understand, said Arona, as the flork cried out again, with incredible and stunning synchronistic timing. And she did, although she really did think Lucille had got a bit garbled in the telling of it, yet she did get the gist of the unusual little story. And after all, she realised, her own perception of Lucille had changed rather dramatically since that first encounter. Why, now she seemed like quite a sweetie, and really quite profound, in a complicated way. How very odd

          Lucille cackled and winked. Hmmm thought Arona, well, buggered if I know….

          #449

          All that farting had been quite exhausting, but the mummy felt that she was reincorporating vigor more quickly now, as the old fartesque energy was giving way.
          This was a quicker process than birthing, but also more disturbing.

          She slowly started to unwrap her bandages.
          She smiled as she saw her peach smooth skin on her hands.

          :fleuron:

          Malvina had clapped her hands and made the food and drinks and decorations disappear in the reception hall of the cave, feeling the time was not to big parties right now. The guest had moved again, and she had not been in the mood for party either.
          She had not yet managed to reestablish contact with her sisters and that was a more pressing matter.

          Leörmn had been retreating into his seasonal slumber, and would not be of great help at the moment, so she knew it was also time for her to get back to simple things and not worry about what was not yet here. Probabilities had simply moved, they would come back.

          The silgreen tree had bloomed, and she wanted to brew some potions with its flowers. She would then go with Irtak to the village sell some vials of potion, and perhaps they would take the opportunity to see Huÿgens too, as he sometimes needed such potions for his langoats.

          :fleuron:

          For Illi the cat, that cave filled with slimey scaly beasts was now out of her way.
          Good riddance.

          This dead Illi experience had been so intense she had almost believed there indeed was a pink indigo dragon right were she was at the entrance of the cave. But the impression had vanished all of a sudden, and she had found herself with her mind again her own only, without the echoing thoughts of that deranged other.
          She had found a tree nearby, and comfortably seated on some high branches had been mediating with the help of trance inducing betel catkins that she carried with her as she traveled.

          She had seen some weird stuff, like farting bandage wrapped people putting cobblestones to make a way to the sky, but that was enjoyable. As nothing really could make sense that night, she decided to go to sleep on her tree.

          In the morning, a snorting sound made her raise her pointy ears. Just below her tree, a man was eating and singing, looking at some map, obviously planning some interesting adventure…

          :fleuron:

          In the cave, where Vincentius was left with the Ugling boy and Mandrake, the latter finally decided to break the ice.

          — How pitiful we left that sabulmantium to the snorting man… Mandrake said, we could have had a peek into Arona’s adventure… Not that I am concerned, she is so brave, but you know, she’ll always be my little… What am I saying? mumbled Mandrake temporarily confused.
          — Oh, you mean, Arona had a sabulmantium?
          — Mmm, well, of course… We projected hairy cows and stuff… (I’m really saying the stupidest things today, might be that herbal tea, shivered Mandrake, licking his paw and combing with it the unkempt hair on his head)
          — Interesting… But you know if you want to have a look, we can do otherwise. Let me see…
          — (trying to make yourself important, huh) thought Mandrake

          Vincentius took a little blue bag tied to his belt, and threw a pinch of a smelly mossy powder on the smoldering embers.
          A thick greenish smoke started to rise making Mandrake retreat carefully (or tactfully he would say) in his favourite place behind the pile of logs to look at the discomfiture of poor Vincentius without having to overwhelm him too much with his own superior sharp intuitive senses.
          But to Mandrake’s surprise, the smoke steadied like a moving wall, and images started to foarm.

          — Hey, this is my little girl, Arona! Mandrake couldn’t help but say.
          A-lo-na, the slow voice of Yikes/Zacquer said.

          #446
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            About time you woke up, came a familiar grumpy voice from behind a pile of logs. Mandrake emerged. And I don’t have fur balls, he added, haughtily.

            Mandrake, thank God! Arona had been a little concerned that , given the amount of time presumably had passed, Mandrake may no longer be with them. Tactfully she kept this to herself, given Mandrake’s especially truculent mood.

            Please tell me what happened now, she said to Vincentius. I think I am ready to hear.

            Vincentius looked uncertain, sighed , but agreed to tell her the tale. Afterwards, Arona was silent for quite some time. She stared thoughtfully at the fire, mesmerised by the dancing flames, gently stroking Mandrakes silky black coat.

            Oh bugger, she said eventually and stood up decisively. I really think I have to go and see that old lizardy croney woman, and without delay.

            I wish you wouldn’t, but I do understand, said Vincentius sadly.

            I don’t understand, said Mandrake crossly, twitching his tail impatiently and narrowing his green eyes

            Arona went over to the sleeping Yikesy and studied him with fond interest. He is not getting any better looking with age is he? She kissed him tenderly on the cheek and whispered in his ear.

            Thank you so much for caring for him, she said to Vincentius and gave him a huge hug.

            On the way out of the cave she ran into Leormn.

            Oh, she said, Vincentius said you allowed us to use the room. Thank you so much. And she kissed Leormn on what she thought would be his cheek, however, a little unsure of Dragon anatomy, it may have been technically a snout or something.

            Arona walked rapidly for several hours, trying to concentrate on the directions given to her by Vincentius and hoping that she was headed in the right direction. Eventually she started to tire and her determination faded. She sat down on a rock and closed her eyes. Her shoulders slumped in weariness and she despondently wished she was back in the cave with the others. She felt deeply sad.

            And is this something you really must face? asked a kindly voice in her head.

            I have no idea really, she answered despairingly. I don’t know. I mean I thought I knew. I thought if I didn’t then I would always be in fear. When I looked into the flames of the fire it all seemed clear. I needed to understand and face it, I thought anyway….

            hmmm, said the voice. Well the best advice I can give you is to trust yourself.

            Arona opened her eyes and saw, to her surprise, a small cottage in the distance. Why, I don’t remember that cottage being there a moment ago, she thought. It looks just as Vincentius described. How remarkable. I was closer than I thought! Her spirits rose.

            Outside the cottage the old crone was bent over, digging in a small vegetable plot. A basket of cabbages sat by her side. She stood up at Arona’s approach, wiping the dirt from her gnarly hands on her apron.

            Hello Arona, she cackled. I have been expecting you. I don’t believe we were properly introduced last time. My name is Lucille. And she held out a hand for Arona to shake.

            I have come to get some answers from you, said Arona, firmly crossing her arms and ignoring the outstretched hand.

            Lucille sighed and dropped her hand. Her pointy chin quivered, and Arona noticed a big wart, with one thick black hair growing out of it, right on the tip of lucille’s chin. She tried not to stare.

            Alright little one, Lucille said soflty. Why don’t you go and wait in the orchard. I will go and fix us a nice, cool drink of lemonade.

            The orchard was full of old fruit trees, their twisted trunks reminded Arona of Lucille herself. From one of the trees hung an old swing. Arona sat on it, holding the rope, and gently rocked herself back and forwards, thinking. She had to admit, she was, quite frankly puzzled. The visit so far wasn’t going as expected.

            She kept rocking, faster now.

            She hit her heels into the hard earth again and again.

            I don’t know. She tried to dig these words into the earth with her heels.

            Then she sidestepped her feet in crab-like movements in diminishing circles. The ropes of the swing twisted tighter and tighter.

            Arona leant backwards and stuck her legs out straight in front of her. The ropes unwound and sent her spinning. weeeeeeeeeeee hoooooooooooooooo!

            She looked up into the sky. Blue sky through the trees with racing spinning clouds. She felt dizzy.

            She stood up and braced herself against the seat of the swing. She held onto the ropes and pushed hard against the seat beneath her. She bent her knees under the swing. She kicked her feet forwards.

            She wanted to go higher. She bent her legs back under the swing. Then kicked them outwards. She stretched her body backwards and arched her back.

            I don’t know, she whispered.

            She sat upright. She bent her legs back under the swing. Then kicked them as hard as she could. She leant her body backwards. She stretched as far as she could. On the rebound her heels hit the ground hard, but still she wanted to keep going higher and higher.

            I DON’T KNOW! she shouted, as loudly as she could.

            :fleuron:

            Lucille returned with the lemonade.

            How do I know if it is safe to drink this? Arona asked. You have cast one spell on me, how am I to know this is not another?

            Lucille cackled. Dear little Arona, she said, if I wanted to cast a spell on you I would have done it before now.

            Okay, well that makes good sense, thought Arona, gratefully drinking the lemonade.

            #445
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Marshmallow? asked Arona, suspiciously, taking the cup from Vincentius and sniffing the steaming brew.

              Isn’t that good for getting rid of furballs in cats? Oh cat! oh, where is Mandrake? Arona started to panic, it was too much for her. She looked at the funny looking sleeping child, wiped her brow dramatically and lay back down again. Give me a moment will you? This is all rather a lot to take in.

              #439

              Leörmn the dragon had been retreating silently what felt like a long time ago. For most of the dragons, as they grew in age, needed to occupy more and more of their time in dreaming.
              But dreaming was not an idle occupation as human sometimes were prone to think. He was phenomenally active in the Unseen when he dreamt, and most of the times, he didn’t even have a dream corporeal existence such was the intensity of the activity, that he projected in many many many different ways at the same time.

              At times, he slowly woke up, barely aware of all of what he had done. In one fragment, some other focuses of his friends were in an odd classroom, and were asked whether they had read some transcripts of a trance conversation with a dragon. At the beginning the pupils had felt reluctant to answer, but some bold hands had been raised, and he knew these people, they were closely related to him. The teacher had been telling them how different the energy was, and how intense, for it was not the same kind of consciousness… Of course, Leörmn knew all of that, but it was one of the many things that had occurred during his sleep. Because all of that was a reality, occurring in other frameworks, other dimensions, other scenes, but all of them were happening.
              And in another one, there was this young man who had just changed his name, looking through a sort of big flat glubolin at some parchment map that one of his friend had put in front of his eyes, and the young man was amazed at how close it looked like the map he had seen in his own dream, with rivers outlined…

              Leörmn felt immensely grateful for all of these personality essences exchanging with him, and enhancing and widening his own exploration, and he felt like he wanted to modify once again the cave. He would create some guest rooms into the cave for them, if they wanted to use them. They would be furnished as they wanted to, and reflecting what was their comfort, and dear to them…
              At Malvina’s request, he had already created one abode for Irtak, but now, he would also create one for the finckely Arona, the wandering Sanso, who in turn could invite some of their own guests.

              And so once again, the cave was transmugrified…

              #1313

              In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                November 9 th

                For Yurick, or perhaps shall we say, The Artist Formerly Known As Quintin this sequence of sequence of 911 has the signification of a reminder to be paying attention to self, and being present to himself.
                The last few days have been, in appearance, quite devoid of exciting new installments of the story, yet, we nudge him not to judge this lack of activity on his part as categorically as he has been used to do. It was a time of self-retreat, a time we have shared with many other essences, as all is connected.
                A very fine point which has been brought forth by Elias a few days ago (in Yurick’s perception of time) has been that you want to appreciate the process. His illustration was that of a beautiful flower bud that you hold, and that you don’t want to tear open, but rather let itself reveal its splendor, and also, its surprises.

                It has prompted Yurick to remember something, which had lots of meaning to him.
                Some years ago, when he was in Kyoto’s forests, he picked up an acorn, as he liked to have seeds or tree corns in his pockets. Back from his trip, in his home, there was this big pot of earth were an old plant had died from the summer heat, and he planted the acorn in it.
                And he waited. Till he had to move, some months later, having renounced to have the acorn grow at all, as the soil’s surface was remaining desperately flat. Perhaps it had rotten altogether. Before leaving the apartment, Yurick started to rummage with his bare hands into the soil, to look for the remains of the acorn he believed had rotten, only to find it perfectly healthy. And even more, it had grown lots of long roots.
                So he took it back home, where it was planted and still continues to grow at a rapid rate.

                Looking at the now big sapling reminds Yurick how that process of growing roots was important for the plant, as they were essential for the oak to be able to survive the winters colds and the summers heats.

                Such is the importance of these moments were inspiration seem to be scarce, or away. It is ever present, growing its roots very carefully inside the soil of your being, and expanding your connexions, redefining some, bringing new nourishments to yourself… The effects are not always immediately visible, but things never cease to move.

                Be prepared to be amazed by the colors of the flowers and leaves your seed produces, for as Yurick’s oak was an unusual kind of oak (a chestnut oak ), the very seeds that are in your pockets or waiting in the soils of your dream gardens may reveal their own surprises…

                #432

                Inspired by the courageous example of Finn, Quintin was thinking of changing his name too.

                There were too many Quintins out there, and he needed to find something more suitable. Michaela had mistaken him again for another Quintin, and of course, Quintin had heard Elias laugh in the background.
                Yann’s battery of his new phone was charged at 33%, so that was probably a confirmation too.

                Why not something like Yurick
                Looking for a confirmation, Quintin found this.

                YORICK: Altered form of JORCK. This name was used by Shakespeare for a court jester in his play ‘Hamlet’. :yahoo_skull:
                JORCK: Danish form of GEORGE

                So that was it… Having recently read some poems from George Gordon Byron, Quintin thought that it was in perfect sync.
                Yurick was henceforth adopted.

                Interestingly, Yurick noticed that it was the 303 rd comment posted. So it was obviously another confirmation. Perhaps that with his new name, now Yurick wouldn’t need 3 confirmations in a row…

                #1453
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  hahahaah!! I don’t know, but the future’s looking sunny Sam :weather-clear: :bounce:

                  #424

                  — The legend of Mævel — (Part VII)

                  Today was the Day of the Forgotten. Mævel had slept well, nestled into the soft and warm depth of her dreams, her head resting on the short blue fur of the fox.
                  In sharp contrast with the lovely night, she awoke strangely irritated. Even the birds songs were like noise to her ears, and every sound of the forest she heard with acute intensity and a sense of being submerged by many sensory inputs.
                  Hopefully, the blue fox voice was still very comforting, and she started to wonder how they could come across a Forgotten One in need.

                  — I think I know where we can find some Forgotten One in need.
                  — Where? asked Mævel

                  The fox paused, then answered her question:
                  — Near your human parents’ home.

                  Mævel was surprised. She trusted the fox, and never had really questioned him, because more than that she trusted her own feelings, but now her feelings were telling her that there was something the fox had not told her. Or had told her partially. She was silent, pondering the unseen implications.

                  — Mæ, I’ll try my best to answer your questions, but remember I cannot tell you everything. I can help you remember some things, but there are things that my curse does not allow me to reveal. You have to find them by your own, in order to free us…
                  — Free us? I thought you were the one Cursed?…
                  — Yes I am, and…
                  — How do you know my parent’s home? How much do you know about me?
                  — I know you since you are a baby actually. And even before…
                  — Before? I don’t understand a thing… I feel there are some unseen links, that I cannot decipher, yet they are so close to…
                  — You’re right, there are links, links that are important, and that I cannot reveal.
                  — Why can’t you reveal them?
                  — Let’s go to your human parent’s home…
                  — Why do you always say my human parents?

                  The fox blew in front of him, creating a wobbling sound into the air in the form of a ring large enough for them to go through it. And he hopped inside, disappearing in mid-air.

                  Mævel was perplexed, but did not hesitate. She hopped too into the watery ring in front of her and found herself falling into a void, to reemerge on a bed of dry leaves in front of her parent’s home. Blohmrik the blue fox was seated in front of her, observing a shadowy form at a distance in front of them.

                  — Is that the Forgotten One we will help?
                  — Yes.
                  — Why do you need me? You could help her, couldn’t you?
                  — She wouldn’t see me, Forgotten Ones are usually obsessed by a few people, those who they feel can remember them, and don’t usually see other people. Their perception is quite different than ours.
                  — Hang on a minute… Why do you think she will see me?

                  Mævel looked into the eyes of the fox, and she knew.

                  — We are linked.

                  It was more an affirmation than a question.
                  Mævel wondered who that shadowy figure was. When she focused on her, the form was getting more solid, and she could catch glimpses of how she looked like. And she was surprised. She was about her age, with long blond hair as hers.
                  Mævel’s voice was broken:
                  — My parents had told me I was about to die when I was a baby, then by a sort of miracle, I became healthy… Was that true?… I mean… Was that a gentle way of telling me that I had a twin who died or…
                  — No, Mæ. She is not you. She is not linked to you by blood. You can talk to her, she will listen to you.

                  So Mævel went to see the shadowy figure. She had stopped wandering and trying to find an opening around the house, for there were none for spirits: all openings were locked by stripes of red cloth hung onto the doors and windows.
                  Mævel felt the pain of the Forgotten One as she approached her.

                  — Who are you? she suddenly asked Mævel, raising her head at her approach.
                  — I am Mævel.
                  Mævel… It means marvel of Maÿ… I was born in Maÿ…
                  — What are you doing here?
                  — This is my parents’ home.
                  — How is that possible?
                  — Twenty one year ago, I was taken away from them, given to Shaint Lejüs in place of a fairy princess. But Shaint Lejüs was no fool, he had sent his apprentice to spy on the fairy king.
                  — Blohmrik?!
                  — Yes, Blohmrik… But Blohmrik disobeyed the Elder God, and when he saw the exchange that was about to happen, he let it happen. He wanted to protect the fairy princess from his master. Because Shaint Lejüs wanted the princess as a bride. Ahahaha, how disappointed Lejüs was when he saw that I could not perform the most basic magic spells. I was good at nothing, so he let me go wandering into his Realm. He’d just thought the half-fairy princess had inherited no magic from her father.
                  — How do you know all that?

                  — I told her, the blue fox said. I was hoping to bring her relief. But she started to look for her parents, and Lejüs discovered the truth… Because she was not looking for a fairy king. She was heading here, year after year.
                  — That’s the reason of your curse, is it?
                  — Yes. She can’t see me because I was Forgotten too, in that form of a blue fox. But as Forgotten Ones don’t forget, I didn’t forget. I couldn’t tell her, because she couldn’t see me.
                  — So, I am that fairy princess you are talking about… that strange idea was starting to dawn on Mævel.
                  — Yes. When Lejüs discovered who you were, he wasn’t interested in you any longer, because he thought your magical potential had been irremediably damaged by all those years spent in human company.

                  — Who are you talking to? the shadowy figure asked, bemused.
                  — Blohmrik, he is here. But it’s untrue, Mævel said, there is magic in me.
                  — Yes there is, answered the blue fox, and you can undo what has been done with it.

                  Mævel remembered the useless key she had manifested when she had tried to go out of her human parents’ house. She had not even looked at it closely.

                  — You can manifest it again Mæ, said the fox. It is with you. You are its lock.

                  And no sooner had Mævel thought of the big rusted key, than it appeared in her hand again. But this time the rust on it was crackled, and it started to disintegrate, and a brilliant shiny metal started to show beneath it.

                  Scratching what was left of the rust, Mævel started to look at the beautiful key, it was shaped as a musical note, and it had some word written on it, in an ancient language she didn’t know how to read. But she knew the sound when she ran her finger on the surface of the word.

                  « Araoni »

                  That was her. She was remembering, and everything started to change.

                  :fleuron2:

                  The wedding of the God Blohmrik, son of Mirÿnda, Goddess of Mirth and of Bälias, God of the Sparkles with Araoni, daughter of the Fairy Queen Theÿa and the Fairy King Aldurion was pronounced on a bright day of Maÿ, in a beautiful orchard in the presence of Araoni’s human parents and sisters and brothers.

                  Even Lejüs had been invited, even though he would have preferred to be Forgotten…

                  :fleuron:

                  And so my story ends… said Captain Bone to Tomkin.

                  — And was the shadow remembered by her true parents? had asked Tomkin.
                  — Oh, yes she was… Of course. She just didn’t want to steal the limelight from Mævel, you see. Her parents were happy of course to find back their true daughter.
                  — You didn’t tell me the name of the true daughter, did you?
                  — No, I didn’t, said Captain Bone with a wink.

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