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  • #275

    Oh well bugger it, said Arona, I have had enough of this. Perhaps we had better just play it by ear if no one really knows how this thing works.

    Which is really, although not in so many words, if I may be so rude as to remind you, what I was suggesting, said the charming Sanso, rather rudely.

    Well yes, that is true … but whatever, let’s not argue, shall we just get going? Are you ready Mandrake? All of a sudden Arona was feeling unaccustomably energised and assertive, and was totally fed up with herself for wasting time so much time sitting around. This was causing her to be a bit sharp with the others.

    You know my problem? she asked, rhetorically, although of course Mandrake felt compelled to offer a reply.

    Hmmmm and which one would that be?

    Ahahahah Mandrake, laughed Arona, well the one I was thinking of was that I think too much. I need to be more like our friend Sanso here. I mean, what does it matter where we end up, it is all a big adventure anyway.

    Well I for one, would prefer to end up somewhere in the vicinity of food, responded Mandrake.

    Sanso wasn’t really listening but was gazing at the sabulmantium with a look of awe and muttering to himself. This really is a remarkable find. I have never actually used a sabulmantium before but I gather that one uses it as a tool to focus their intention, which is a crucial component of the magical creative process. Tremendously powerful tool and when used with awareness by the pure of heart it has great potential.

    Oh great! shall we just get going then, said Arona picking up the Sabulmantium, and next thing you know, after a little bit more wandering down a few more tunnels, which isn’t really that interesting to write about, our three intrepid adventurers found themselves gazing in astonished delight at a most wonderous sight.

    #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.

        #246

        Huÿgens was not much of a cat person.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

        And off she was… free and unfettered as a gripshawk

        ***

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

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

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

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

        #232

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

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

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

        A silence was on the scene.

        :fleuron:

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

        :fleuron:

        Somewhere in Malvina’s cave.

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

        She asked Leörmn to come.

        :fleuron:

        Quintin’s bedroom.

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

        :fleuron:

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

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

        :fleuron:

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

        :fleuron:

        Leörmn had now finished assembling the magical artifact.

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

        :fleuron:

        sabulmantium !

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

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

        :fleuron:

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

        #230

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

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

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

        But the other Illi wasn’t so easily vanquished.

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

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

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

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

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

        And they ended laughing blissfully together.

        After a moment, Illi asked again:

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

        And the deal was made.

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

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

        #188

        This morning, Fiona and Quintin had a small impromptu chat —or rather, prompted by the story they were all weaving, that Archie, the puppet black panther, had been telling them last week-end that it was a magic connection between all of them…

        Quintin: Your story was great!

        Fiona: Thank you :) So was yours.

        Have you written any more since I last looked at the story?

        Quintin: no, I’m not that much inspired… I even considered to wrap in up in a way, but seeing you were all drawing so much from it, I think I will leave it open ever after…

        Fiona: no, wrap it up if you feel.

        I have drawn what I wanted. I will go and blow up the cave if we don’t finish it :)

        Quintin: Ahahaha! Don’t restrict yourself ;)

        Fiona: When you started the Malvina story, did you have an idea where it would go, or did you pick that one because you had no idea?

        Quintin: This one nagged me because there were many people I felt behind it and I did not know how to get them to show up and make their presences known. And I felt that it was loose enough too, to allow people to jump into it; and there was your initial interest in the picture ;)

        Fiona: The endearing dragons…

        Quintin: Yeah…

        But I had strictly no idea about the rest. It was just a bet, on luck…

        That’s funny, because I had a strange impression of a little girl yesterday, in a futuristic city, named something like Janice , and it was like she knew now what she wanted to do, and it was something similar to that, something like creating worlds for other people, in which they could have fun, or heal, or explore things…

        Fiona: And did she have any impression of what form that could take? Like books, or games or what…

        Quintin: No, it was much more “real” in fact…

        Fiona: you know like the card-captor game which I suppose is interactive, so real

        Quintin: Yeah, perhaps a bit like that, yes; or like creating a ball of energy in which people can be drawn and experience as they will. It’s only a translation, but that’s the idea… in a way, that’s very similar to a game or a book, but only that it just feels totally “real”

        Fiona: So a little bit like I have done with the story, to resolve something

        Quintin: yeah, exactly, or with your paintings

        Fiona: It can be really useful to take on other personas to do that, even like in drama type situations, being someone else…

        Quintin: Yeah, people can unleash their imagination.

        And I think there are still lots of things that we can expand in this universe in fact, not only related to the cave…

        Fiona: such as? eggsamples?

        Quintin: You said it! The eggs and relationships with dragons, all the magical artifacts or creatures. Didn’t you want a baby dragon?

        Fiona: Yeah, I told you I did, but you just said some riddle!

        Quintin: Did I? That’s not like me ;)

        Fiona: Ahahhaha! It is you to the core

        Quintin: LOL, damn me!

        Fiona: Well, that is a bit strong, but …

        Quintin: Ahahahahah. I said you would have to earn his trust? (or hers, for that matter)

        Fiona: I can’t remember the eggsact wording, I think I had to work for it though, like you weren’t just handing out dragons on a plate

        Quintin: It could bound with you very strongly and help you unravel your unknown magical powers. It’s not just a creature, it’s a complex personality, you cannot just take it like a puppy. There is a sharing between the two…

        Fiona: So are you going to allocate baby dragons to people or what? Or shall I just go and find an egg that no one knew was there :)

        Quintin: Ahahah, no, they will not be allocated, they will choose their own partners

        Fiona: Ahahaha, one minute you say it is my story! And now you are back in control

        Quintin: Ahahaha, the story has a willing of its own too…

        Try to do what you want, it’s not a matter of control ; it’s just you’ll know what clicks and what does not…

        Quintin: And actually, I don’t think everyone will be interested in dragons…

        Fiona: How does a dragon help one learn magic powers?

        Quintin: It’s just because there is an openness between the two; let me find something for you, that Elias (you know, Michaela’s partner), has told to me and Yann, when we had them on the phone last month.

        Elias : I would express to you that, as you focus your energies with each other, and you allow yourselves to merge and feel into each others’ energies, you may in actuality each discover some obstacles that the other may not necessarily be aware of yet, and you can share that with each other, and therefore facilitate your interactions even further.

        Fiona: And how having a baby dragon could help unleash our magic powers then?

        Quintin: It helps because it reinforces your trust in your own abilities to connect. It’s not directing, it’s a sharing and exploration for both of them; that’s why they are picky. As you would be picky too, knowing you would share together all the darkest corners…

        Fiona: I am not sure if i have dark corners ;)

        Quintin: it was a metaphor :D

        Fiona: ahahahhahahahahahah

        Fiona: I know, so was mine :D

        Quintin: ahahahahah

        Fiona: I was thinking I feel really accepting of myself

        Quintin: Yeah, that’s the point in the little adventure before you meet it.

        You have shown your trust in yourself and in your abilities, and your self-centeredness, which is essential, for the dragon doesn’t want a frail personality. Because he drops his defenses too when he shares and bonds.

        Fiona: Well I think it sounds scarey now, what if no dragon picked me…

        Quintin: There will be instant recognition. And you don’t “need” a dragon actually, that’s what is important: it’s a catalyst, nothing more, nothing less…

        Fiona: True.

        Quintin: Like Arona managed to sneak into the cave without giving the answer to the riddle (egg-sitingly) because it mattered not to her, whatever the outcome, she was directing of herself.

        Fiona: I felt like I have pictures now to assist me. I link strongly to pictures as a quick reference when I start to feel something like a negative emotion, for instance I may start to worry about how I am going to have enough money, or whatever, and I could quickly link to the spider picture

        Quintin: you mean, you create an imagery, right? That is something which I like in your stories and emails; even though it is not necessary to create imagery, it’s always so entertaining, like having these funny creatures pop in the cave!

        Fiona: Ahahahaha yes

        Quintin: And also, in creating imagery, it helps you seeing it in a more neutral way

        Fiona: I suppose it is just a quick trigger for the desired belief. I can link in quickly with the child, when I start to feel left out, for example.

        Quintin: yeah, beliefs as an alphabet or a palette, neutral, but that can create words and sentences or images. And the imagery of the child was very similar for me, to that of the playfulness picture

        Fiona: Yeah, I know… That’s what I said to you with the playfulness picture

        Quintin: Of course, you know :)

        Fiona: That I related most to the figure of blue hat… and big feet

        Quintin: Ahahaha, stomping on the poor key-fish

        Fiona: Nearly…

        Quintin: Have to go now, thank you for this enjoyable conversation

        Fiona: See you! :)

        #184

        The transmugrification was about to start.

        Inspired by the improvised tune of Malvina, Leörmn had felt new arrangements coming for the cave.

        He had been checking out every living being in the cave, and wanted to make things less complicated for them, without startling them too much. For creatures, that was easy, he could communicate well with them, and they knew the changes would be temporary.

        But for humans, let alone gripshawks, that was more difficult as they could play deaf as pleased them.

        Hopefully, the gripshawk was in good hands outside the cave, and that was probably better for her, as she would probably have hurt herself more than was necessary in not listening to the exhortations to stay calm.

        As for the young adventuress, she was sleeping joyfully, and the little glukenitch that Leörmn had left to her side to keep watch and warn him in case she would be too distressed was silently watching over her.

        Írtak was aware that the process was about to begin, as he had been trained by Malvina to listen to the flimsiest changes in the cave, and how his body was responding to these subtle modifications. This one would probably become of great dragon rider, but for now he was young and needed to hone his abilities. His father had been renouncing of telling him what was best and most reasonable for him to do, and allowed him to spend much time in the cave. He was not really interested by these magical things, but he knew they were important for his son, and was encouraging, in his own manner.

        As for Malvina, she was unaffected in a way, because she was part of Leörmn as much as he was a part of her, and it was like they were moving hand in hand. These hiding and seeking the eggs were like a playful game between them, because their interests were different, but all in all, they were one, and trusted each other completely.

        The more troublesome was perhaps Sanso, the wanderer. This one seemed trapped in between Worlds. The caves at times also acted as portals between Worlds, and this one had been unknowingly crossing the Worlds, as the delimitations between imagination and reality were only in words, and did not really exist. Leörmn was hoping he would not appear in the midst of the ruckus.

        So, on one of the wooden decks near the apartments of Malvina, he sat, overlooking the glowing eggs, and bathing into the music.

        Closing his eyes, he felt every part of the cave as if it were an extension of his own body, which was in fact much bigger than this current appearance, so big in fact that it was the World itself. And every creature breathing in it was a very cherished part of his body, and he slowly breathed in and out.

        He envisioned a great light pouring from the volcanic insides of the cavern, which inundated the cave in a misty warmth. It was a loving light that neither glukenitches nor schpurniatz feared. And the sinuous insides of the caves expanded and straightened in huge corridors, and doors disappeared, and gorgeous paintings from the mind and craft of Malvina decorated the walls in rich colours.

        And near the platform, inside the hall, a huge table sprung from the floor, for the banquet that was to come.

        And a new egg was laid somewhere in the cave, glowing of an emerald tint.

        This “one” was a bit different though…

        #140
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Dory was floating. The warm waters of the lagoon rippled underneath her, relaxing and soothing. The sun was going down, and the sky was quilted with puffy pink clouds above her, the coconut trees black silhouettes against the blue-green horizon. Lazily, her gaze drifted towards the beach. The lemurs were dancing their magical dance amongst the trees. Balti chuckled behind her. Oh I forgot you were there Balti! He chuckled again. You wouldn’t relax, Dory, unless I promised to hold you, you thought you might drown. Dory had forgotten all about drowning.

          Let’s go to the dance, Balti, she said. The dance of the lemurs . We can float closer to the shore and then we may hear the music.

          #131

          Arona was lost. She had been lost for quite some time now and had got over the initial surprise this realisation had given her. It was not very often now that she questioned her decision to leave the others. She had tired of their endless journeying, always in circles, always moving and yet never seeming to move beyond the confines of the small village.

          One day she told them she was leaving. She wasn’t even sure if they heard her but still she set off, wearing her heavy black cape and carrying a small bag of her most treasured possessions.

          Arona had not been sure of the cape, it was so heavy, yet she feared the cold nights and loved the security of it’s warmth. It had been a gift from her parents, a long time ago, when she was just a child. Wear this cape and one day it will bring you happiness, her mother had said.

          Her mother said many odd things and had left on a journey of her own a many years ago, so Arona had never really been able to find out what she meant. Magically the cape had grown with her body, moulding itself to her.

          The worst of the winter cold was over now and Arona found the cape almost unbearably heavy at times, yet she could not quite bring herself to leave it behind. Sometimes she would take it off, relishing in the lightness and feeling the warmth of the sun on her body. She always put it back on though, just in case she needed it one day.

          Arona pulled out a well worn map from her bag. The map had been a gift from a travelling wizard who visited the village a few years ago. Arona had given him food and shelter and he repaid her kindness with the map. He seemed to think it was quite generous of him and Arona had thanked him politely. To be honest it was not really much use to her as she had no sense of direction, not even knowing which way north was, and not knowing where she was going anyway. She preferred just to follow whichever way seemed lightest at the time. But it was handy having the map because when she met others on the journey who asked her where she was going, she would wave her map at them. It made her look good, she thought, and saved her from too many questions.

          That day as she sat on a rock pretending to ponder her map she became aware of a faint sound of music in the distance. She had not heard music for such a long time. Once on her journey she had passed a wandering minstrel and begged him to play for her so that she could dance. In exchange she had lent him her cloak for a while to keep him warm.

          She felt the music beckoning her.

          :fleuron:

          Fiona loved Quintin’s drawings. They had a feel of magic and lightness and she was entranced by them. They were like the children’s films she had been watching lately, with many layers to them and touching something inside her mind, a distant memory which felt strangely close.

          Her own drawings felt heavy to her, and she had made a decision not to paint again unless she felt inspired. She did not really understand inspiration, only knew that she was tired of trying so hard.

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