Search Results for 'mean'

Forums Search Search Results for 'mean'

Viewing 20 results - 821 through 840 (of 873 total)
  • Author
    Search Results
  • #396
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      …… as for himself, Al was not displeased that he had followed the good-hearted advice of sweet Tina about his hair loss………

      As Becky reviewed the script of the Reality Drama Play she was reminded with a slight pang of guilt that she had meant to apologize to ‘sweet Tina’ (Becky spluttered her coffee a bit) for being perhaps a bit rude to her about her offer of a hair replacement aid. At the time, Becky had been astonished that Tina hadn’t realized that the baldness was deliberate… deliberate, and very attractive and stylish. The bald patch that Tina had noticed was simply Becky’s incomplete experiments with manifesting the baldness ‘mentally’ as opposed to physically with a razor.

      Becky had completed the Bald Experiment via the physical means of a razor so that she would be looking her best when Sean arrived.

      #393
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        ARONA MEETS THE NANNY

        Dreamily Arona wandered away from the cave, gently holding the sleeping Yikesy close to her heart. Mandrake the cat followed, elegantly attempting to convey the impression he was there by mere chance, and by some stroke of fortune happened to be heading in the same direction.

        Arona had no clear idea where she was going, or what her intentions were even. Still this was nothing new for Arona, who was a bit of an aimless wanderer really herself at heart. She pretended she was looking for magic, but really, she wasn’t so sure anymore what she was looking for.

        Wooha!

        Arona was momentarily rendered speechless by a vison up ahead. The most beautiful creature she had ever seen sat no more than 5 dragon-lengths up ahead.
        .
        Mandrake, she eventually whispered when she had regained her composure, What is this miracle ahead? Is this some maiden’s dream? A heavenly creature come to earth perhaps?

        A miracle sent by God to save you? suggested Mandrake

        His near naked body a masterpiece of bronzed skin pulled taut over rippling muscles.

        Steady on Arona, said Mandrake

        But you know I am no hapless fool Mandrake, to swoon over a handsome stranger.

        No, indeed. And might I enquire why for art we art speaking so oddly? asked Mandrake

        Buggered if I know, answered Arona

        Despite the bravado she managed to display at times, Arona was very shy, and would never have had the confidence to approach such a godlike creature. However at that moment Yikesy started to cry loudly. The god looked up from his silent reverie and smiled.

        Oh a baby, he said in a deep melodic voice. I love babies. He came bounding athletically over and gazed down at Yikesy. My, that is an endearingly ugly baby.

        This is Arona, stuttered Arona, I mean I am Arona, and this is Yikesy, and this is .. Arona looked blankly at Mandrake

        Mandrake looked unhelpfully back at her, with a rather sarcastic little smile on his face.

        I am delighted to meet you. Vincentius at your service. May I hold Arona for a few moments?

        Oh I am sure that could be arranged, snorted Mandrake.

        Arona glared at Mandrake and decided the time had come to pull herself together. I am so sorry for the misunderstanding, she said charmingly to Vincentius. The baby’s name is Yikesy. And certainly you may hold him for a moment.

        Vincentius held Yikesy in his strong arms as though he had been cradling little babies all his life.

        Look this is probably a silly question but you aren’t after a nanny by any chance? Oh no of course you aren’t, said Vincentius, apologetically, seeing the amazed expression on Arona’s face. I am so sorry, just wishful thinking on my part. Please forget I said anything and forgive me for my impudence.

        Well actually, said Arona, frantically attempting to remain calm, I really have no idea how to look after this baby and I did have a bit of an idea a nanny might be quite useful.

        Well this is a fortuitous meeting indeed then!

        But I can’t afford to pay you, she said sadly, unconsciously fiddling with her hair and fluttering her long thick eyelashes.

        Oh don’t worry about that small detail. I am sure we can come to some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement, and Vincentius winked at her.

        Arona drew herself up to her full height, firmly took Yikesy back and said; I will have you know if you are going to wink at me this can’t possibly work. I have no idea what a wink means. You will have to speak clearly if you have something to say to me.

        OH bugger bugger bugger! thought Arona. What is it with me and winking. Now I have blown it. BUGGER.

        But Vincentius just laughed good naturedly, and musically too of course. Perhaps we will just play it by ear then shall we? I am delighted to be your new Nanny :yahoo_big_hug:.

        #392

        — The legend of Mævel — (Part IV)

        Mævel’s mind was made up, she was leaving tonight. She took a few of her belongings in a little bundle, and all very silently, moved to the door, the bundle in one hand, and the key in the other.

        But when she tried to put the key into the lock, she noticed something was wrong. The key was way too big for the small lock. What was the purpose of materializing a big key unfit to the locks that were in front of us? she wondered.
        Perhaps the key will have another use, she said to herself, and she put it into her bundle, and wondered whether she could find another way to get out of the bedroom.

        « Use your magic,… you don’t need to play by the rules » a tiny voice whispered in her ear.
        « What does that mean? » she asked, befuddled, as perhaps her parents where right after all, she was becoming nuts… Well, that might attract squirrels and have them gnaw a hole in that wall, she said giggling to herself.
        « You don’t need draw squirrels,… you can draw a door directly »

        What a strange idea, Mævel thought, drawing a door… It sounded so funny at the moment, that she could feel her heart lift and her spirits as well. What could she use to draw that door… Her gaze ran quickly through the bedroom, looking for a bit of chalk, or charcoal, or whatever else. What a terrible thing that she was so obsessed by dusting, as there wasn’t even a single dust bunny left to draw that door.

        « Now, will you pay attention? »
        « I beg your pardon? »
        « What did I told you? »
        « Mmmm, let me think… Oh! I don’t have to play by the rules… »

        So, in a bout of genius, Mævel ran her finger on the wall, starting from the floor, straight upwards, then to the right, and straight down again, until… well, nothing happened.

        « That wall hasn’t budged any! »
        « Are you sure?… Look closer »

        And Mævel saw that the wall had become like a shiny surface of water, right inside where she had drawn the limits of that imaginary door. And when she pressed her finger, it was simply going through it, as though the surface had just been an illusion.

        With a thank for the helpful voice in her head, she was about to cross the surface, but was stopped in her track by a moment of hesitation. Could she change the destination behind the wall as well?
        Why not, after all, she didn’t have to play by the rules.

        « To the forest! » Mævel ordered intently to the wall before jumping in.

        The voice smiled to her fondly.

        #391
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          Tina was so happy Becky had sorted her hair problems so creatively. She wondered if she should tell her she had missed a bit at the back of her head. Yes of course she must.

          She also wondered if she should get changed before she met the others. Al had said he liked her new dress and then winked at her. What did that mean? Winks always made her a bit uneasy. They were so ambiguous.

          Oh that’s right, she could configure it anyway she chose she remembered. So she spent a few happy minutes remembering how fantastic she looked, like a supermodel actually.

          She would give the gift voucher to Sam for his birthday now Becky didn’t need it, she decided. No matter his birthday was months ago, she was always late with birthday gifts and preferred to do things on impluse. Not that Sam had any hair issues that she knew of, she just thought he would enjoy meeting Hari. :face-wink:

          She thought how great life was. Really it was all just about having fun. She felt so much easier with the play they were writing too, no longer concerned she could not follow the plots, plots? what a funny word to use, of the others, content just to follow her own unique path.

          #390
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Becky hugged Sam. I’m so glad you don’t drink Sam, she said, emotionally.

            Well, I do have an occasional pint down at the Duck and Firken, you know, he replied.

            You know what I mean, Sam. All those years with Sean, hoping it would all work out…her voice trailed off sadly….

            Hey Becky, it wasn’t a waste! Look at all the lovely children you had!

            Becky smiled ruefully. Well, it hasn’t exactly been a picnic either, you know….

            #1366
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Yikes means…..Blimey O’Riley…or…..Holy Moly…..or……foo kin ‘ell…..:yahoo_big_grin:

              #344
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Becky waited patiently at the doorstep on the third floor of her apartment building, trying to hail a gondola cab. The canvas bag over her shoulder was heavy. In it she had a thermos flask of rice water and poppy heads for her friend Sam, who had telephoned her with the news that he was unwell.

                While she waited, she wondered about Tina and Al. They hadn’t said anything, but Becky sensed there were some issues bubbling under the surface. Tina’s strange behaviour when she answered the phone; Al’s uncharacteristically rude discounting of the outing she’d planned for them all….well! They will soon bounce back, Becky thought, If there’s anything I can do, I’m sure they’ll ask. Meanwhile, Becky chanted the mantra, It Matter’s Not; Everything Is Perfect…..

                #1364
                AvatarJib
                Participant

                  Yeah! Someone had to, and it had to be you :yahoo_rofl:
                  By the way TP, what does Yikes exactly mean :-?

                  #1310

                  In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    October 21 st

                    What’s the use of a new-born baby?

                    An interesting reflection is prompted by Armelle about the need to understand things for some of our focuses.

                    « I can do whatever I like with your Stories, give them any Meaning I want. It doesn’t matter… » (Armelle)
                    « Of course! that is the Magic of it » (Rafaela)
                    « And we can see them as Seeds. You don’t need to understand how Seeds work to have them grow » (Yuki)
                    « Yes, in a wild Wilderness. A weedy, overgrown, yet mysteriously lovely Wilderness » (Armelle)
                    « A modicum of Cooperation but largely total Freedom to make what you Want » (Rafaela)
                    « It’s a repository of Energy Seeds » (Yuki)
                    « A weedy, overgrown, yet mysteriously lovely Wilderness » (Armelle)
                    « Yes, that too! Or,… an Eden Garden, with a hovering scaly stinky beast . May it be either an English, Chinese or French Garden, whatever pleases your tastes… » (Yuki)

                    #334
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      …..it’s just that it does sound rather simplistic, I mean ……Tina frowned at the script.

                      Well, it depends doesn’t it, Becky replied. As it’s a fictional recreational piece of performance art, certainly it wants a few complications, a few twists, a few riddles…..

                      The phone rang, interrupting Becky’s rambling. Tina rather rudely snatched the phone just as Becky was about to answer it, suddenly seeming to be a bit breathless and pink in the cheeks.

                      Just then a garbage truck came to a grindingly noisy halt outside and Becky was unable to eavesdrop on Tina’s oddly furtive conversation.

                      #322

                      The thing is, Dory, George was speaking gently, but was looking pointedly into her eyes as he spoke, the thing is that nobody ever needs any help, as you are accustomed to think of it.

                      Do you like that line, Tina? Becky asked in a bemused way.

                      Tina reflected. Well I like the fact that he speaks in a gentle voice like me. Her voice trailed off. However, it’s just that it does sound rather simplistic, I mean …..

                      Oh thank god, the phone is ringing, I have created help so I won’t have to finish what I started to say.

                      #317

                      Ibn al’ Gruk was weary.
                      That lone grake he had seen flying over the desert settlement this morning had baffled him.
                      Usually, such creatures where not migrating at this season, and this one was lone too, which was all the more baffling.

                      The old gripshawk had seen many things in his life, but this was surely a presage of importance. In the myths of his people, the big colourful birds were once thriving in the desert oasis, where they were thought to have appeared in the Old Times. But having been extensively hunted down as food for the gripshawk tribes, they had moved away, and the balance had been broken.
                      It had prompted lots of the tribes to move apart, in search of food and exchanges, and few of them were now still living in the deserts as they did in the old ways. Many of them, for many generations now, had been creating cities on the coast, and the most flourishing one was Chafik’ An, where a traveling portal had been erected by the humans from Lan’Ork to facilitate exchanges and trades.

                      All of that, despite his old age (that his long mop of white angora hair under his chin could account for), Ibn al’ Gruk had only heard all of this through the lineage of his ancestors, but he had seen some of the conflicts that had been created, and he understood that change again was in the air.

                      He felt like he could weave a new tale to entertain the settlement tonight, and perhaps give them inkling as to the new changes to come.
                      For he felt changes were coming, and that they had been in motion already.

                      ***

                      The night was clear, and lots of people had gathered around the big bonfire. They all loved these regular meetings where everyone would meet and share food, drinks and over all, gaiety.

                      He started to drum low deep sounds and cleared his throat.
                      A fit of cough got him by surprise, but it was just a hairball that he spat in the fire, which set ablaze immediately, providing some dramatic effect that hushed everyone down.

                      “In a mysterious land far far away,” started Ibn al’ Gruk, with a growling voice…

                      ***

                      Egypt, 2657 B.C.

                      Lekshen had dreamt of Set that night. The god had appeared to him in one of his familiar forms, that of a long snouted animal .
                      Lekhsen was wondering why the god had requested such a task for him to do, but he was certainly in the perfect position to accomplish such a task.
                      Like Set, Lekhsen came from Upper Egypt, the arid land, and he had managed to get a high-ranking responsibility in fertile Lower Egypt as a scribe thanks to the unification efforts of Pharaoh.

                      But Pharaoh’s daughter had just died… right after her 10 year old brother, and Pharaoh’s himself felt He would not live much longer.
                      Which would mean that the closest male in the family would be likely to get on the throne of Egypt. And that would be bad news for people like him, as the brothers and brothers-in-law of Pharaoh did not appreciate much His policy.

                      In the dream, the strange creature had asked him to hide something with the mummy of Pharaoh’s daughter. It had told him people would forget about how Set was fighting for Ra, the Sun, each night that the bark was traveling on the dangerous underworld waters. They would forget, and would demonise him and his people, and he, Lekhsen would have to write the story, and bury it with the Princess. His status would allow him to do it unscathed.

                      “Would people ever remember they once were One?” had asked Lekshen to the god.
                      “Only you can tell” had the creature answered.

                      #312
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        The Little Brook gurgled over the pebbles, sparkling in the sunlight, and swirling in little pools dammed up with little stone bridges.

                        Dory smiled at George. Ok George, I’m all ears.

                        Well, Dory, you were asking why I didn’t help you, despite being with you every step of the way on your adventures.

                        Well, yeah! said Dory, somewhat indignantly. I mean, what are friends for?

                        #305

                        Quintin couldn’t sleep.
                        Now he was thinking, he had delayed it for too long.
                        They all had been thinking of it, talking and glossing over it for so long. Some had dreamed of it, feared it, asked for it to bugger off. Lots of pains and struggles, but it had only been clever or not so clever ways to delay the unavoidable.

                        Now, he had an urge to insert it. How come he had not thought of it before. All he had to do was insert it in his reality.
                        Well, that would sure mean lots of changes, but after all, no pain no gain.
                        Or no abundance.

                        ABUNDANCE abun·dance [ ə-ˈbən-dəns ] “The ability to do what you need to do, when you need to do it”

                        That’s how Pasha, a Russian friend of Dory had defined abundance — speaking of Dory, now Quintin was seeing how she was ahead of the herd, and a bit of a coal (slow) mine canary too. Quintin would have changed all the world’s dictionaries to have that new definition everywhere. What a task…

                        Actually, that’s it! Quintin had feared the implications, as lots of people did.
                        It would mean everything would be allowed. Everything would be true, even the most blatant contradictions would be harmoniously living side by side. Struggle would be needless, and all that would be needed to do would be to stop paddling upstream.
                        What a mess it could be for salmons and control freaks as himself.

                        Perhaps worse, it would change everything, even “past” events where everything would also be allowed, now.
                        In-of-body travels (rather than the too classical “out-of-body”), meeting other selves appearing out of nowhere, talking with dead people, or sugarplum fairies, traveling instantaneously to meet Tchaikovsky and have him change his dying swan for a stuffed talking Mother Goose, flying, shape-shifting, manifesting objects out of thin air, the possibilities would be extraordinary… All in that physical reality where everyone was struggling to prove none of this was possible.
                        But if everything would be allowed, then be it! And he would go and live in 23, Dragon Alley, Phœnix Ville, Sunnyvalley with Yann (and the others of course, if they wanted to) and do whatever they wanted to do.

                        OK. That’s a deal then. Release the camouflages, open the watergates and leave the damn dams to beavers and loosers.

                        Let’s insert the Shift, now.

                        And let the fun continue, and worry wither away.

                        ***

                        Well, and what’s that Shift all about?

                        Quintin’s friends Michaela and Elias had said about it :

                        “You are also bored in the experiences that you have created to this point. You have experienced. You have created in the manner that you have designed previously. Now you choose to be creating in an expanded experience, allowing more of your awareness, more of an opening to consciousness, more of your own creativity and your own abilities, and you are discovering that your abilities are within physical focus limitless. You have merely limited yourselves as an element of your beliefs, but as you are also moving into acceptance of your beliefs, you are widening your awareness and you are allowing yourselves to view how many more abilities you hold and how very creative you are, and not creating your limitations with such severity. Those elements in your reality that have been thought to be impossible are not impossible!” 1

                        #304

                        Írtak was playing with the dragon twins in the carved woodstones field. It was mostly faced shaped petrified wood that had been carved surely when it was still wood. The faces were quite hypnotic and made him feel often sleepy, but with the dragons he was feeling all his senses enhanced and sharpened. :face-glasses:

                        The dragons were growing fast, hatched only a few days ago, they were already bigger than his father… He knew from Malvina that they could take whatever form they wanted, but he’d always thought that their power were developing from nothing to … something… but apparently they were already fully aware. Their leather skin was glowing emerald green, blended with some purple pink shades, or was it the contrary. It was changing so quickly. He was wondering what they were eating, because he wasn’t the one who was giving them any food. And still they were so big.
                        Did they have a “real” form? Whatever that meant.

                        One of the dragon gave him a mischievous glance and before he could anticipate what would happen, he was facing a growling troll :yahoo_time_out:. The troll was running right to him, seemingly crushing with his heavy body all the fragile woodstoned faces.

                        All his attention was on the troll and he didn’t hear the man coming.
                        And now the troll was freezed running and jumping forever… Írtak’s head was like a big storm of boulders falling from the sky. Growling, drumbling apart…

                        — You have strange games with your dragons.
                        — …

                        He was gaping at the man… his skin was bluish with pink also and sometimes a bit of yellow.

                        — Who are you?
                        — Don’t you recognize me? :face-grin:

                        Írtak tried to remember something. had he ever met that man before?

                        — Oh right, it’s our first meeting… from your point of view. I’d forgotten that. But you see, for me our first meeting is in your future.
                        — …

                        Írtak was still gaping at the man, this strange skin of him, it was so ambrulin, that color he’d already see somewhere… was it in a dream?
                        The man looked at him, and he felt for a moment a warm fuzzy feeling in his body… not particularly located in any part of it… and he would have… no, it was even in the woodstoned faces around him… how could he feel that?

                        — Your dragons are wanting to take part in the fun, the man smiled. I’m going to let them go, as I’m not staying either.
                        — Who are you? managed Írtak.

                        :yahoo_alien:

                        — I’m your father…
                        :yahoo_alien:
                        HAHAHAHAHAH! No actually that’s a private joke… I’m Andrimiñ (AndruhMiiñ?) we’ll meet again in a few years of your time. Your dragons are really interesting then, and so are you.

                        Saying that, the time began to flow again in the right direction, the troll was still running toward him, but he suddenly slowed down and stopped, shape shifting into a bluish boy, with a face so similar to Andrimiñ.

                        — Where’s the funny man? he said.

                        #302
                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          Well I think I can answer that for you, said a small round green blobby creature, in response to Roselyn’s question. The creature had actually been sitting there all the time, however everyone had assumed it was some sort of exotic plant.

                          Let me introduce myself, I am Frowdup, yes an unusual name I know. I am a long time and faithful friend to the dear little Fairy Princess, who is rather friendless at the moment owing to her extraordinarily antisocial behaviour , such as that which you see so sadly exhibited before you.

                          Frowdup cleared his throat in an important and significant sort of way. I will try and relate this sad tale as succinctly and precisely as possible, he said.

                          Our dear little Fairy Princess was the head Fairy Princess of the Hot Pink and Sky Blue bands of the North East Fairies from the Land of the Long White Cloud. Each Fairy Princess in her initiate years has a witch assigned to her, to help her develop her magical abilities. Our dear little Fairy Princess was designated one of the 13 Witches of Loathing, Whanga, from the far North of the North Island of the Land of the Long White Cloud.

                          Dear Fairy Princess had her own cave which she took admirable pains to make sure was always fully stocked with sand. You know about the sand of course? I can see you are a woman of great stature, no offense intended, I mean I can see you are tremendously well versed in the ways of magic yourself, so you will know that some of the more basic ways of magic involve a symbolic representation of magical symbols, so to speak, such as sand and wands and whatnot sort of thingies. Really completely unnecessary, of course, as you will know, however for her, each grain of sand was the exact and precise equivalent of one wish, activated by a determined wave of her magic wand and the words abracadabra. Yes, I know, very primitive, but she is a very young initiate, although I will say she showed great potential had Whanga the Witch of Loathing not managed to convince her of her own lack of worth.

                          Whanga was constantly and every single moment whispering in the ear of the Fairy Princess magic spells of self loathing. My young friend lacked the expertise to counteract these powerful spells and began to believe them. One day she was so sad at her own horridness that she could bear it no longer and put a spell on herself. This enabled her to curl up into a deep sleep of forgetfulness for a rather long time, enabling Whanga to easily procure said wand. In addition to this Whanga managed to obtain the source of the music which the Fairy Princess felt she required in order to help her to fly. When the dear little Fairy Princess awakened from her sleep, she was devastated by the loss of her wand and music, and still convinced of her own worthlessness you see this poor creature before you today.

                          The poor creature had stopped sobbing and was glaring at Frowdup.

                          #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:

                            #298

                            The City, year 2257

                            Janice had just awoken from a strange dream, where she was watching big round cabbages being harvested in what looked like Quintin’s father garden. They were all firmly rooted on a black irrigation pole across the garden, and people were using strange devices to turn them all delicately and pick them afterwards. In the dream, there were black puppies too, sleeping in the straw of a kind of hut nearby. And she had seen another creature, and had been surprised first because it was unlike anything she had ever met, even in dreams. It was hairless and brown as soft mud, and was hiding in the neighbour’s garden. Then it had crossed and came to play with her…

                            Janice was lost in her thoughts strolling on the way to the common dome, when she met Rodney, her father’s friend.
                            They had been recently trying with her father Jacob, and also Qixi to connect with their shifting focuses of the Ancients, two centuries and half before their time.
                            Some of them, they had found, had been playing a sort of game of story-telling and clue-sowing… (Janice was laughing as her father’s friend, the scientist Arkandin, always insisted on seesawing instead)

                            Perhaps her dream was telling her that the crop was ripe, and it was time to harvest some from it. She told her dream to Rodney. All at once, he was quite excited and they started to feel they wanted to chat more freely. So they went into one of the Medraw Caps that was available and soon imagined a comfortable environment for themselves to explore more.

                            Janice could hear Al or Quintin complain about how things were getting confusing.
                            She tried to convey to both of them that they could be excited about it, as it was expanding their understanding, but they weren’t very receptive.

                            ~~~

                            Somewhere Al was saying to Becky
                            — The more you try to fix it, the more confused I am
                            — Hahahahah yes! Becky was answering, I guess so! Ahahahah! Al, what a fabulous dance of confusion we do… The Confundo Tango
                            — Ahahah, yes!

                            Al started again to moan:
                            — So who’s dead, who’s the shapeshifter? Who’s the human, who’s the cat? :-??

                            (Rodney was laughing, as for him, he could accept the confusion as much easier, letting him free to wander around!)

                            Illi was a woman, a shapeshifter who shape-shifted into a cat, then, she died. Becky was saying (Rodney added mentally “Now, she is disengaged” as he knew that “death” was a confusing word.) She was an archaeologist
                            — Okay, that’s cool, that’s what I thought, Al acquiesced. Then thought back of what was said of her and wondered… Anyway, it will probably find a perfect answer …
                            Becky nodded
                            — I got lost myself when two Illis appeared, and a grip-thing as well
                            — Because I didn’t want the grip-thing to be dead! Al couldn’t help but laugh. That would have been too easy, like wiggling out. Not using your imagination within the context of objective imagery to sort out “things”…

                            ~~~

                            While Rodney and Janice were seeing that their other focuses were kind of stuck in their explanation, they had time freeze and both decided to come back to their “now” to start from their understanding.
                            A funny thought had come to Janice, that she shared with Rodney.
                            — Oh, the funny thing you know, about Becky having written to Sean
                            Rodney nodded. Janice continued:
                            — It just appeared in my mind just moments ago, at the same time you (well, Rafaela) inserted into the story of Malvina. That Becky would have been asking Sean something, and that perhaps it would have helped him talk to his father in the future.

                            — Well, that Sean is SUCH AN ENIGMA! bumped Rodney a bit excited by the implications.
                            — What do you mean? asked Janice, who just remembered that Sean Doran has a cousin named Dorean.
                            — Who is he? Where is he? was asking Rodney now.
                            Rodney was having a hard time remembering what had been inserted yet in the story about him.

                            So Janice manifested the Wrick family tree in front of them, so that he could see better. She started by manifesting an acorn, then threw in on the grass, and it sprung forth in a little sapling with signs hanging from its branches.

                            — Well, it’s all in the script, answered Janice, he’s Lord Wrick’s son.
                            — Oh boy, I am in trouble again for not keeping up with the facts! Rodney sighed, and laughed…
                            Janice laughed “So that you can surprise yourself again!”

                            Rodney felt thankful for the sumafiness of Janice who was always prompt to display helpful hallucinations and reminders.

                            Janice stopped the growth of the family tree for a moment and started to comment it.
                            — See, in Becky’s time of the reality play, Sean is Lord’s Wrick son, and has just lost his wife Margaret, and got his two young children around their 10s.
                            — When is Becky’s time then? Rodney wondered, I hadn’t though of that…
                            Becky’s time for the reality play is around 2033…
                            Then Janice had the tree grow again, and sprout more branches from Sean’s children:
                            — …Now, Sean is the grand-father of the twins, except than the twin’s time is around 2057 if it had not changed yet. It’s so carefully woven, but it’s fun how it effortlessly came to fit in.
                            TRUST AND ALLOWING AND GOING WITH THE FLOW cried Rodney and Janice in unison, in the realisation of how well all this was.

                            Rodney was beginning to remember it all.
                            — I just remember the part about Sean, so he is still a bit of a mystery
                            — Yes, absolutely
                            — We don’t really know do we why Hilarion didn’t mention him
                            — Oh, there’s also the Margaret newspaper thing… Janice fumbled in her memory to find the proper link that would display the image of the newspaper cut just at the right of the family tree. Adding with a wink “with more dates to get bearings”
                            — Ahahah, I’d love to have pocketfuls of ball bearings said Rodney who manifested a pocketful to distract him from the load of information. OH YES! he cried, I had forgetten about this! What an incredibly HUGE story this is…

                            Rodney was squinting his dream eyes
                            — So, Sean was into humanitarian effort after 2001…
                            — His father actually I think, said Janice. He was a bit too young.
                            — Oh OK, I misread, that’s hard to read!

                            Then, all of a second, Rodney erupted in an uproarious laugh
                            AHAHAHA, I had just forgotten to de-hallucinate these pince-nez spectacles! Now, it is much easier to read!
                            Janice was laughing so hard, she thought she would shatter the hallucination with the wobbles of the soundless sounds.
                            Then she added:

                            Sean is born around 2000, a bit before.
                            — OK, maybe he went to help the Tuaregs, Rodney was accessing some information now. Maybe he was the one who put the mummy in the locked room that India found.
                            — You know I had something funny in store for the mummy mystery, Janice couldn’t help but laugh again. I imagined we could have inserted Old Manon, coming down to secretly drink from her old malt whiskey’s flask, and finding them messing up with her old dear stuffed cat…
                            — Maybe the mummy was the same one that Dory saw in the oblong hole in the ground outside the cave, Rodney was still accessing flickering images swirling around his head. And Sean was there helping the Tuaregs and moved it to safety.
                            Of course, years previously, Illi Fergusson, the archeologist had buried the mummy there too for safe keeping.

                            Now, Janice was hooked:
                            — Was it where Illi learned about shapeshifting tricks from the old tribe?
                            Rodney noticed Janice’s funny remark and laughed before continuing:
                            — The Tuaregs were conducting secret coleslaw experiments in the desert. In combination with sound and irrigation techniques, they were going to run the entire Sahara into a broccoli field.

                            Janice was amazed at the cabbage “coincidence” and irrigation stuff with her dream of that morning. Of course she knew there where probably mis-interpretation of the imagery coming from Rodney’s visions, but something made sense.
                            — Around which year? she asked
                            — Arrggh I don’t know!… Then, taking a breath of dream air, Rodney said “1923”. When Illi learned shape-shifting trick, 1923.
                            — It makes sense, said Janice who was now thinking of other dispersed informations about Illi Fergusson.
                            — Yes, she learned from Dashine Ashara… Although who that is, I don’t yet know.
                            — Wow, said Janice. She had felt a connection with the “da’sheen” sound. She continued: somewhere, Illi Fergusson has said: “my parents were aristocrats”
                            — Yes, answered Rodney who was accessing again, they were, and they knew the Wildes .
                            — And it was said too: “[…] a nurturing presence that reminded Illi of the maid she and her parents had in their cottage in South Africa”… like her parents were traveling a lot.
                            — Ah, South Africa! Illi’s parents emigrated to South Africa with Sir Abingdon Portfellow, an elderly scholar on ancient artifacts and embalming.
                            — Seems she knew John Lubbock too, said Janice again, reviving old data banks of information. Dates seem okay, so if she was around 30 in the Tuareg adventure, she could have met him.
                            — Wow, said Rodney, this is even more interesting…

                            “But we may sit at home and yet be in all quarters of the earth.” Janice had just summoned the voice of the naturalist and archaeologist. Rodney applauded “Lubbock said that? cool quote!”.
                            — Yes, like Illi’s quote, which was from him “What we see depends mainly on what we look for”. I wonder if that’s one of your (Illi’s) overlapping focuses, said Janice

                            — Well, Illi didnt stay long in South Africa with boring old whatever his name was, Rodney pursued
                            — Yes, she was young with her parents. They were traveling…

                            They were both amazed at the magical cooperation they were doing at that moment. Janice would have loved to share all of that with Qixi and Jacob, but probably their energies were present at the moment too, though not focused here.

                            She then remembered something else:
                            — Oh, and there is something else! Quintin’s dream of the woman detective. Let me fetch it she said, summoning now Quintin’s memory to talk to them.
                            … by night, near a museum in London, in the 1920s. She was investigating a case of a strange disappearance near a small replicate of an Egyptian pyramid that had been put here for display. There had been an exposition of ancient artifacts in the museum, which had been recently unearthed by a team of archaeologists and graciously lent by Egypt’s officials. Strangely enough, the woman detective feels linked to the story, and is probably Dory
                            Date fits again, she said in awe.
                            — Perfect! said Rodney. She was of course Dory too, but in that focus she was Illi Fergusson… he slowed down, then said No! wait! The detective was another one of my focuses. The archeologist who stole the mummy for safekeeping was Illi.
                            — Hmmm
                            — Hmmm
                            — So you are both the thief and the detective, the one who creates mystery for yourself, how interesting, giggled Janice.
                            — Yes, and not only that Janice! Rodney was taking a mysterious air… I am the mummy too!

                            Janice bust out laughing imagining Rodney in bandages. Yes, of course!
                            Then, she had a name come with that: Apsh’un Shet she said, very self-absorbed.
                            Now, that was Rodney’s turn to burst out laughing.
                            — “I am not sure about that!”
                            — Doubting my insights… mmm, how rude… Janice frowned then laughed again.
                            — If you call me that, I may have to make you out to have a speech impediment
                            — Sounds a good Egyptian name for me though, seems it means “Light of the Dawn
                            — Does it? Oh that sounds nice…
                            — Well, in some Egyptian dialect, yes. She was a Princess…
                            — Hahaha! Reminds me of Aspen Shit. Rodney doubted Janice could be serious about that name, but Janice was now the one to be accessing some information.
                            — Bit bossy Princess
                            — Which dynasty?
                            III rd, answered Janice, who fumbled in links of consciousness to find some timeline to project for them.
                            — What year?
                            Janice projected the timeline below then said
                            — I’d say around 2657 B.C., in Ancients way of telling time.

                            They both marveled at the splendid team work they had been doing, and hoped that the other focuses involved would be able to get some parts of their insights too.

                            Rodney was seeing something else
                            — There is also, a very fascinating link between Tassili in the Sahara and Egypt which is a mystery AND there is a connection with Egypt and Scotland too…
                            Illi the gripshawk comes from the mysterious land of the Sands, south of the map fragment
                            — We may unravel more than we think… Illi is an other dimensional focus of the Illi essence…
                            — Yes she is. She is a connection too, being “lost” in the land of dragons after hopping through traveling portals…
                            — Exactly
                            — And they communicated because they are helping each other
                            — Which is why she doesn’t always ‘fit’ into this reality’s energy configuration
                            — And they have some difficulties at times with translations of other dimensional stuff
                            — Yes! resulting in confusion!

                            And they both laughed again, looking at the great tapestry of clues that was woven before their dream eyes.

                            #288

                            Tomkin had a keen eye, and despite the dazzling light reflected on the calm glittering surface of the sea, he could see a little dark shape detaching itself from the three bigger forms, and that little dark shape was quickly identifiable as a bird.
                            Apparently the bird was not from these lands, it was black with white strips, or perhaps the contrary, and was flying like a grake drunk of having gorged on overripe Scotch bonnets.
                            Obviously the bird was exhausted, and crashed on the shore where it was nearly knocked out by the grogonuts which fell with big *thuds* from the grogonut tree on which it had just finished its erratic course.

                            Seeing the whole scene from the top of the fatly mossy cliff, Tomkin decided his curiosity was a much more pressing matter than taking care of the herd of grakes, so he ran to the little rocky path which led to the beach below.

                            Apparently the bird was still alive, and more surprising even, that was a talking bird. It could speak strange words.
                            And even stranger, though Tomkin knew none of these words, he could understand all of what the bird wanted to communicate to him.

                            What an odd thing, he wondered… The bird was requesting some food apparently.
                            Tomkin fumbled in his pocket for some bread crumbs, when the gift of the Captain fell on the sand.
                            Could it be?

                            Tomkin’s heart was racing. Could it be that there was magic after all in this strange simple gift? The Captain had said it meant all was connected. That could explain why he could understand that foreign bird… And perhaps it worked on other talking creatures and people too…
                            A whole realm of potentials seemed to open in front of young dreamy Tomkin, who was quickly brought down to more earthly matter when Rudy the myna pricked his hand with its beck for the bread crumbs, projecting to him “Give it to me! Give it to me!”.

                            #282

                            — The legend of Mævel — (Part I)

                            as told by Cpt Bone to young Tomkin

                            In the time of the Gods, the King of the Fairies, Aldurion, fell in love with a beautiful mortal named Theÿa.
                            He wanted to make her his Queen but only the Elder Gods could bestow the gift of immortality upon mortals.
                            So he went to see Ghört, the God of the Airs. Ghört could certainly grant him what he requested, but for that, Theÿa would have to be transformed into an air sprite. Aldurion wouldn’t be able to hold her again. So he declined the offer, and went to see another Elder God.
                            Then, he went to see Nærvel, the Goddess of the Waters. But Nærvel could grant him immortality if Theÿa was to be transformed into a water sprite. So Aldurion declined again.
                            Then he went to see Agnima, the Goddess of the Flames, and then Selvaniel the God of the Woods, and Margilonia the Goddess of the Earths. But all of their conditions were the same, Theÿa would have to be transformed into an immaterial and immortal elemental fairy. But Aldurion couldn’t bear to have her changed into something else than she was.

                            Then, only one of the Elder Gods was left, the one than few of the Immortals dared talk to, and of whom most mortals were afraid, to the point of systematically using the Old Speech respectful form of address (“Shaint”), when referring to him.
                            So Aldurion came to see Lejüs, God of the Forgotten.
                            Lejüs was greatly pleased to see him. When Aldurion had finished exposing his request, Lejüs took a moment to ponder. Giving immortality was none of his wonts, as he was keeper of the Forgotten. But he was not without compassion, and seeing Aldurion’s plight, he offered to grant his wish at the condition that, not his wife, but their first born child, would become Forgotten.
                            Aldurion was so hopeful that all he saw was that the condition seemed so small, based on a future event that perhaps wouldn’t even happen… All he wanted was to have Theÿa as a Queen, and so the deal was made.

                            So became Theÿa Queen of the Fairies.

                            A few God’s Years later, which meant in human years much more than a few years, Theÿa became pregnant.
                            When she announced the news to Aldurion, he was suddenly reminded of the deal he had made with Lejüs, and was quite distraught, as he had not revealed it to Theÿa. But he remained quiet, hoping that Lejüs would have forgotten about the whole story (well, that was forgetting he was Keeper of the Forgotten).
                            So Theÿa gave birth to a little baby girl fairy, with golden wavy hair and bright eyes. She, like her mother, had no wings, but there was magic in her. They named her Araoni.

                            But Lejüs had not forgotten of course, and came to see the Royal couple to claim the baby. Aldurion pretended that the mother and baby was still very weak, and he would have to come back in a few God’s Days. Lejüs agreed, and left complaisantly.

                            Aldurion was at a loss for solutions, but Theÿa was a fairy with lots of ruse, so he decided to reveal it all to her, hoping that she would have a solution.
                            Theÿa asked him time to think about this, and told him not to worry.
                            Later, she had an idea, quite brilliant she thought. All she had to do was to find another child to give Lejüs.
                            So she gave baby Araoni to one of her diligent nurse, the old fairy Gretchÿa, telling her to find a house were a blond new born girl could be exchanged and proceed to the exchange of the babies.

                            So Gretchÿa went across the lands of the Worlds, but only in one home she could find a blond baby girl. The new-born baby girl was almost dying, as the parents were a careless couple of peasants, already plagued with many children, and they could not bother with children hesitating to live.
                            Gretchÿa was heart-broken when she did the exchange, promising to baby Araoni to get her back soon. The young human baby girl was weak and yet unnamed, and the old fairy nurse knew she would probably not live long, and be claimed by Shaint Lejüs. So all was good.

                            When Lejüs came back, he smiled as he saw the baby girl, and left with her without much more words for the Royal couple.
                            Lejüs smiled, for when he had taken the young baby, the parents had instantly forgotten about her, and so did everyone having ever known her…

                            The human parents, surprised to see the condition of their baby improving beyond all hope, named her Mævel, which meant marvel of Maÿ the month in which she was born.

                          Viewing 20 results - 821 through 840 (of 873 total)