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  • #1565

    In reply to: Synchronicity

    Jib
    Participant

      Well just roaming the web I found that link to asaris people :

      Asari on Wikipedia

      and they say :

      A typical asari individual has a blue and/or green complexion.

      look at the Asaris — The blue men’s world — by Írtak

      And they also say that : Despite their small military size, their flagship, the Destiny Ascension, is the most powerful warship ever constructed.

      Are they also ascended :))

      #403

      November, 1 st 2057

      Sean took another glass of scotch to give him some courage to call.

      — It’s your twelfth now, that’s supposed to give you courage
      — Oh, Maggie, my live is such a mess…
      — It’s not, and you know it. Look at all our beautiful children, and Becky who went through so much just out of love for you…

      Sean didn’t know whether he was actually seeing the ghost of his deceased wife, or a projection of her, still alive in another part of the Universe, but she always had been a comforting presence.
      He had started to see her a few months after her disappearance.
      Yes, during that T.R.A.P. expedition, yeah, “live-changing experience” they had said… True, too true… Perhaps the electromagnetic field had messed up with his brains, but now he could see her clear as day.

      That had been a bit freaky in the beginning, and when they made love with Becky, he was a bit anxious to see her appear not invited. But Margaret had been discrete, well mostly. At times, he wondered if she had not sneaked into the bedroom and merged her energies with Becky’s, just to be closer to him… Becky’s acts did not always make sense anyway, so that was hardly a criterion to judge of that.

      All his live had been like that. A jumble of incoherent stuff. Oh, he had enjoyed it, especially at the beginning. His father Lord Wrick was obsessed with the Shift, and had found some ancient knowledge in his youth. Mostly rubbish by nowadays standards, bunches of rotten books of prophecies handed down to a few chosen ones, who were supposed to be forewarned of doom to come. Now, they knew that they were only a wake up call, but at that time, it was another thing altogether.

      Of course, the wealth accumulated over the centuries by the Wrick family had been helpful to access these precious archaeological documents. A few of them had played a key role.
      For instance, the in-extenso Life and Deeds of Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson, a rare version of the diary of Lord Fergusson, annotated by his daughter, Illi, was telling an account of history much different than the one romanced after his death by his wife Floribunda von Grott.
      Thanks to it, Lord Wrick had been able to acquire some inkling as to ancient treasures. Old fool…
      It had killed his wife, Artemisia, devastated by the madness of her husband, and it had alienated the other part of the family too.
      But all that counted was to make the discoveries, and perhaps enlight the masses.

      Sean had never really forgave his father that he wanted to utilise Margaret and have her fit into his plans of grandeur. Of course, his father had willingly accepted the union, and despite all appearances (for the sake of those rapacious journalists) he had even pushed Sean to do it quickly. But all he was really interested in was her precious discoveries.

      — Oh, but I was not innocent, Sean
      — I know Maggie, you were obsessed by what we could offer to you, especially when you read about the botanical experiments in the deserts, which were related in that old book. But still…
      — We all had grown up through that, you know…
      — Yes, and what showed me that, was that I was concerned that the old vampire would suck my own children into his web, but Peregrine was too free for that, and Guinevere preferred to live her live outside of this madness too.
      Becky had a good influence. Do me a favour, be kind to her.
      — You know what?… Yes of course you’d know,… but let me tell you, so that we can laugh together… I found myself really happy and free when I stole the two magical books out of the Old Fool’s clutch. God knows how he acquired them, but one thing was sure, he was obsessed with them. I couldn’t get the mummy, but the books were a great take.
      — And a funny idea to give them to your cousin…
      — Yes, Dorean was the perfect person. I couldn’t leave them anywhere, my father would have found them again. At least he wasn’t in good terms with his brother and sister-in-law, so they were safe in their care. And at least, they were more grounded than my father, the perfect keepers for the books… I’m wondering what happened to them…
      — That will upset you, but Perry’s twins got them.
      — Oh really?
      — Yes, and they are having fun with them, as was intended.
      — That’s fine then, and we are less obsessed now than we were before, so I guess my father isn’t as much as a pain in the butt as he was…
      — You father meant good
      — Yes, like everyone, but why can’t we leave people alone at times? People can sort out their issues without the commiseration, and the good intentions… It’s poison even worse… Like I can drink and still be healthy, and nice, and…

      Sean started to sob.

      — I know, darling, but you’re as much of a sore as your father was… You focus so much on what’s not going right, and you don’t even appreciate that you can talk with your departed wife… That was nothing as easy in the old days.
      — Do you think my father talks with mum to?
      — I think he would be too proud to admit he is sorry… That may hinder the communication… But Arty wouldn’t bear grudge now. When we let go of the physical, things become so clear, we can only be accepting of everything. Perhaps you prefer to wait for your father to cross over? I can tell you something, that won’t be easier. That much I know.
      — You’re right. It’s just that I don’t know how to start…
      — Be yourself, talk about what you enjoy, where is your passion now… Perhaps that is the problem. You’re drowning your passion in your scotch.
      — You’re right… I’ll tell him Léan will have a baby.
      — Oh, he’ll love it!
      — How time flies… sighed Sean, I still remember the little sweetie as a blue-eyed laughing baby herself, with Oliver and Illana. She was the only one of the triplet to have inherited her mother’s dark complexion. She’s so beautiful…
      — Let’s call your father darling
      — Yes, let’s call him.

      ***

      Lord Wrick had not expected to received that call. Well, he had renounced it so long ago.
      He had been a bit shaken, but also relieved. He had proposed, on an impulse, to invite that whole part of the family he barely knew, Sean’s new partner, and all their children for next Christmas in the castle. Sean had told him they would probably come with Becky but that the children were now having their own lives, and it would have to be for another time.

      ***

      Lord Wrick went to see Bill, who was now painting the portraits of Peregrine and Linda in the veranda.
      He would probably have to stay longer, to paint a lot of new family portraits.

      That probably would come perfectly, as ever, as the Lord could tell India Louise loved to spend time with the painter. Perhaps she would become an artist too… :sumari:

      #353
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Nora Long was dying. She knew she didn’t have long left, and she had some affairs still to attend to before she was no longer able. Nora was a childless spinster, a frugal recluse with an uncanny knack for winning premium bond and lottery prizes; nothing big enough to attract much attention, but more than enough for her needs. Consequently, she had quietly amassed a fortune over the years ~ and she wasn’t about to let the state have it all.

        Nora had spent most of her 88 years dreaming, and talking to ghosts and spirits. She wrote all of it down in notebooks, hundreds and hundreds of them, until the advent of the computer in more recent years. She had splashed out and bought one, and gamely taught herself how to use it, keeping her journals online from then on.

        Nora discovered how to google one day. Wondering what in the world she might want to search for, a name popped into her head: Yurara Fameliki.

        Nora had learned to trust her impulses, and she searched for the unusual name, double checking first with the voice in her head as to the correct spelling.

        Nora began to read the story on the websites first page. Three days later, she was still reading it, as it grew day by day. Nora was almost sorry she had already chosen to die. At last she had found some people she could relate to!

        But Nora was too weary to change her mind. She did have a plan though, a plan that cheered her greatly. On the websites pages she had noticed a little sign saying ‘Buy a Drink’.

        #1448
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          http://www.north-of-africa.com/article.php3?id_article=418

          This might be a better link for the comment about the connection between Egypt and Tuaregs :) :weather-clear:

          as well as the Egypt connection :

          At Jabbaren, he found a city with alleys, cross-roads and squares. The walls were covered with hundreds of paintings. Jabbaren is a Tuareg word meaning “giants” and the name refers to the paintings found inside the city, some of which depict human figures that are indeed gigantic in size. One of them measured up to eighteen feet high. Several of these paintings depicted “Martians” and for Lhote, it was the first time he discovered paintings of hundreds of oxen. Jabbaren was soon labelled one of the oldest sites of the Tassili.

          I think the mummy may be 6 meters tall………(Rahim told me that the tombs there were extraordinarily long….and we did have a giant enter the story ….) :yahoo_thinking:

          ~~~~~~~~~

          AND: The Tassili n’Ajjer

          …..the Hoggar Mountains and the Tassili n’Ajjer, one of the most enchanting mountain ranges on this planet……

          There were largely two forms of rock paintings, distinguishable by the location in which they were found. Some were found in rock shelters, such as at Aouanrhet. These sites were where the shaman performed his divination, as the face of a rock was often seen as a doorway to another dimension (another parallel with the paintings in the French caves).

          (this reminds me of Oversoul Seven! # book by Jane Roberts)

          Though one could interpret their location as the work of a nomadic people, Lhote’s team also found several urban settlements.
          He found small concentrations of human activity around Tan-Zoumiatak in the Tin Abou Teka massif. It was a little rocky citadel that dominated the gorge below. The citadel was cut through with a number of narrow alleys. Lhote described the art he found here as: “There were life-size figures painted in red ochre, archers with muscular arms and legs, enormous ‘cats’, many scenes with cattle, war-chariots and so forth. Up to this time I had never seen figures of this sort in the Tassili and the mass of paintings that I managed to view that day quite put into the shade all those I had seen up to then.”

          more:

          http://www.philipcoppens.com/tassili.html

          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

          ENORMOUS CATS?????? :yahoo_surprise:

          #295

          Becky had decided to take her friends out for the day. Poor Al needed a break from scratching his head in confusion, and dear Tina needed a break from rubbing her aching temples. She knew Sam would enjoy a day out too.

          Becky was enjoying preparing the itinerary.

          Champagne breakfast at the Droles de Dames cafe in Le Touquet~Pu first, a table reserved under the gaily striped awning overlooking the sea. Fresh croissants and hot coffee, Bavarian cream donuts, tangy fresh squeezed Tesorillo orange and Tiki kiwi juice, scrambled dragon eggs on French toast, and Moroccan mint tea.

          The exhibit of Sand Sculpture was next, a pleasant stroll on the beach after breakfast would be just the ticket, Becky thought.

          Next, a little side trip to place a few hibiscus blooms on the grave of Oscar Wilde. He was buried at the Father Chase Memorial Garden on a mossy knoll overlooking the sand sculptures, a short stroll from the beach.

          A golden coach and six dappled grey horses would meet them at Father Chase gardens and take them to the lawns of Sandlebright Hall, for the hot air balloon ride. The big red balloon would land on Isla de los Perdidos, a magical island in the Rift Straits, for a picnic lunch under the coconut trees and a relaxing swim in the deliciously warm lagoon. Balti had agreed to provide head massages for the little party of day trippers, and had suggested a big iced jug of crop juice as the perfect accompaniament.

          A paddle steamer would arrive to take them back to the mainland after the sojourn on the magical isle. There were comfortable whicker steamer chairs on the deck with cosy tartan blankets for those wishing to snooze a little, or raucous poker games inside the red plush interior for those who chose to exercise their creating skills on the green baize tables.

          The Cirque de Paradoxia matinee was on the agenda for the afternoons entertainment, with the new sonic stone juggling as one of the highlights.

          A theatre supper in Covent Garden, Becky had decided, and the Orient Express was the perfect way to get there. Hercule Poirot had kindly agreed to serve drinks and nibbles on the journey. Becky perused the entertainment section of The Reality Times, wondering which play to take her freinds to. Aha! Salome, of course!

          Becky considerately booked rooms at the Hogwarts Hotel on Queen Street for her friends to freshen up and change, ready for the evenings festivities. A hot pink stretch limosine would call for them and escort them to the Blue Man Group show, and then on to the party at the Dragondrome Stadium.

          Becky booked rooms at the Taj Mc Fal Hotel for her friends to retire to after the party, whenever they so wished…the pink limo would be available all night.

          There, said Becky in satisfaction, they will love it.

          #289

          The arrival of the noisy pink fairy was the last straw for Illi. She imagined her deserted island again and made sure she paid attention to imagining it completely deserted this time. No more fat nuns appearing from the heavens or squalking fairies!

          Illi made the new island a paradise….she magicked up staff when she wanted food or a massage, a gaggle of party people for when she felt like dancing, and blithely disappeared them when she was done. Mostly Illi slept. Her favourite spot was near the lagoon on the sand under the coconut trees. She lay and dozed and drifted and dreamed and imagined and dozed some more, trailing her fingers through the sand, pushing little heaps of sand here and there, pulling them back, making channels and watching the sand sift back in and disappear them. She dreamed of sand sculptures, an astonishing variety and all made from…sand! Tiny grains of sand, made into anything at all…..every tiny grain of conscious energy…made into anything at all…..and in comes the tide and washes and ripples a clean new beach….to make anything at all……

          #1349
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            woo hoo, head massage, okay I will be there!

            :face-smile-big:

            #1348
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              PS Merging group head massage at 4:00PM TRT…join me! :face-angel:

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