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  • #2797

    In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens

    EricEric
    Keymaster

      Grandpa Wrick interrupted “did I mention that your first story needs a beginning and an end, of course? The snowflake must be complete so that others can expand on it.”

      Take an example: Alice in Wonderland. You could start with : “A young girl follows a rabbit, falls down the rabbit hole, meets all sorts of strange people and in the end she wakes up to find out it was probably only a dream”. Then built up from that. Ideally to create something like a book-length worth of clues and details and all… For instance, you could detail the rabbit’s habits, or the strange people, putting it in perspective of the initial blurb or following developments. It would be like re-re-rewatching a beloved movie, only to pay attention to the finer details in the background…

      #2665

      In reply to: Strings of Nines

      TracyTracy
      Participant

        They were thick as theives, freinds for thousands of centuries, or even more; sometimes thick, sometimes theives, and anything else you might imagine. They got together again and again in this time and that, here, there and elsewhere, just for the fun of it. There was nothing they liked more than a puzzling occurance, or a riddle, or a basket full of clues to ponder over, unravel, and turn around and around, toying with meanings until they found one they liked. They had a home in The City, sort of a home base so to speak, where they met regularly each night in the dream state, regardless of which time or place they spent their waking hours. It was sometimes a releif to meet up at home in The City and always a pleasure: sometimes it was hard to stay under the radar back down on the ground, it was part of the job to stand out in the crowd, which often resulted in a lynching, or a ducking, or the stocks, at the very least. All too often it ended up on top of a bonfire, tied to a stake.

        One day in one of the Decembers, in amongst all the sweet dreams they often shared, they started having some unsettling group dreams, where they all felt like they were betwixt and between, falling through the cracks you might say. It was a feeling similar to dying of thirst, although it wasn’t really a physical thirst, it was more than that, a hungry yearning sort of thing. Some of them had strange nightmares, of a monstrous beast, and some of them actually saw beasts in the daytime too, especially on those falling through the cracks days. When they met up at home in The City, they compared notes about the beasts, and not always, but sometimes they found they were mirroring each others beasts. That often ended up in a heated debate, because the more mirroring that occurred, the more real the beast seemed. Some said that the beasts that appeared when you fell through the cracks were in a deep ravine, in a manner of speaking, and not of this plane at all. Others argued that if the beasts appeared through the cracks, then they were on this plane.

        And so it went on, and on. There were many more puzzling occurances to come, and lots of meanings to be considered, rejected, or taken on board for the friends, as thick as thieves, to turn around and around, and hold up to the mirror for closer inspection and dissection. They were making a tapestry, a huge rich colourful tapestry, and all the puzzling occurences, and even the beasts, were depicted in the colourful threads and patterns. They were the warp, you might say, of the weave. Love was the weft.

        “Congratulations, LizGodfrey remarked drily. “Are you supposed to use three months worth of creative writing challenges in one entry?”

        “Don’t be silly, Godfrey, of course not. Rules are meant to be broken, that’s what they’re for.”

        #2652

        In reply to: Strings of Nines

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          “We walk, Ia’eh and Minkah, Desher and I,” Elizabeth read the email from Hypatia, “ towards the dark ridge of stone where the books lie hidden, awaiting the day they should be found again…..When Cleopatra ruled, the books numbered 400,000…and this, I think, is true. By the time of Theon of Alexandria, an age in which the books were no loner in the Great Library of the Palace of the Ptolemies, which was also no longer, but housed instead the “daughter” library of the Serapeum, they numbered 360,000. Those lost to the Bishop of Theophilus amounted to a tenth of these. But no matter if full half were lost, that Minkah brought out from Alexandria so many amazed me then; it amazes me still. He not only carried them here, but brought back an account of where each cave was sited, and which jars were placed in which cave.”

          Godfrey, didn’t we know a Minky once, who was a sort of a servant?”

          “We did indeed, Liz, you were the one who inserted him into the story, surely you remember?”

          “Well, the name rings a bell, Godfrey, but where did we meet him?”

          Godfrey snapped his fingers and as if by magic, an excerpt from the Reality Play appeared:

          “Just then a funny little man with a huge cheeky grin appeared and held out a tray. Smoothies! Coconut and berry smoothies, and pink cakes, croissants”

          “Croissants!” interrupted Elizabeth.

          “… and oranges, and a box of cadbury’s chocolates…”

          “Don’t remind me about Cadbury’s” groaned Elizabeth. “I simply can’t bear it that they’ve blinked into another dimension”

          Godfrey continued: “ Dory slurped and munched and gobbled and slurped some more, and underneath where the chocolate was, she saw a brochure.
          On the front cover was a picture of a cave. OOHH A CAVE! Dory loved caves! Let’s go to the cave today, Minky! she said to the funny fellow with the impish grin. Minky winked.”

          “He was going to take Dory to the caves!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Why didn’t I finish that story thread!”

          “There’s no need to wring your hands like that, Liz” said Godfrey soothingly. “You can continue it now!”

          #2647

          In reply to: Strings of Nines

          When Yikes had first asked Arona, when he was like 6 or 7 years old if he had a father, Arona had brushed the question aside with a roll of an eye, and an annoyed flicker of the other.

          “Of course you have, little pooh…”

          It was glaringly obvious that the little Ugling wasn’t bearing any likeness with her handsome model Vincentius, so she didn’t mock the little guy’s intelligence by asking why he was even inquiring of such a thing.
          And for a few years, telling him the story of how he was given to her by the dwarf Palani was enough to calm the torrent of his questions.

          Later though, as he was gaining strength and other skills taught to him by Vincentius, who was ever patient and dedicated to the well-being of Arona and the child, his questions became an obsession, and he took upon himself to discover the truth he could feel was wrapped in fantasy and nonsense —or at least, not told completely.

          Perhaps it was an indiscretion of a glukenitch found in the many caves there were nearby their home, nobody knew for certain. (Glukenitches sharing one mind, they knew many of the secrets of the caves they sometimes deigned to share with strangers…) anyway, nobody knew for certain, but he found out about the mysterious Sanso, and how he became ‘acquainted’ with Arona (whom Yikes had never called but by her first name).

          Yikes was now in his teen years, and wanted more than ever to meet Sanso, although he never quite revealed that secret plan least it would upset the loving and caring Arona. He had to find someone to help him in his research, but where they lived, encounters were scarce.

          One day, a young woman he’d never met before went to see Arona. They were friends apparently, and he overheard Arona call her Salome, while they were discussing about lots of people, whose names he mostly didn’t know. He was feeling uncomfortable around nice ladies, and almost didn’t show up for dinner. However, an embarrassed silence and a sideway glance as a certain “he” was being inquired about by Arona raised his ears, and he took upon himself to try to learn more from the lady.
          So when she left, he followed her to the entrance of one of the nearby caves, and showed up —apparently without surprising the lady called Salome. She was well aware of his presence, and of his desire to find Sanso.
          “The man defies logic,” she then warned Yikes “and you need a riddle outside of logic to catch him and his attention.”
          That was almost all of what she said before disappearing into the damp cave’s tunnel. That and… “no need to beat a dead cow.”

          Yikes had pondered that for days, without success.
          Until the illumination came: all he had to do was become the hunter, and bait his prey.
          For that, he would kill the fatted calf, to welcome the return of the prodigal father.

          And put his bait near the tunnels near the realms from whence he roamed aimlessly.

          #2646

          In reply to: Strings of Nines

          One thing led to another, as it tends to do, while Sanso sat meditating on the enigma of The Dead Cow. Random and seemingly disjointed images flashed through his mind, not unlike a random google had been back in the old days, the first being an odd word, Kogaionon . Accessing further information, Sanso discovered that it was an ancient Transylvaniun skull. The link between the dead cow and the skull was clear ~ it was a bone sync, they both had bones, there was no denying it. Encouraged, Sanso continued to meditate.

          :crystal-skull:

          After some images of a battle at sea , presumably Trafalgar, Sanso intuitively felt, he heard the words “Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.” Wise words, he thought, and appropriate too. He popped these snippets into his indigo clue bag and continued to meditate. An image of a strange creature, half fish and half lion appeared next, a Merlion, which quickly morphed into an entertaining old movie playing across the screen of his minds eye, so to speak, in which someone who reminded him of Becky arrived in Paris during a rainstorm with just the clothes on her back ~ and interesting clothes they were, too! Sanso was glued to the screen, in a manner of speaking, and watched with amusement as a whole new wardrobe was delivered to the puzzled woman, followed by her mysterious benefactor: Georges.

          Well, fancy Georges turning up again like that! Sanso was delighted. Perhaps Georges could shed some light on the mystery of the Dead Cow Blocking the Cave Entrance.

          Sanso returned to his meditation and found himself eavesdropping on a conversation.

          — Well, and Sanso, and Georges then, are they dead or what? How come Dory can see them?
          — These ones are special, they have mastered the crossing of the Worlds, and can move through them. They move differently though. Sanso comes from a lineage of an ancient tribe of Zion, and had learn from them how to activate some portals, but only through the physical world of Dory, in their own time. He is not yet aware that he can also move through time as well, or even through other Worlds — worlds that he has no conception of yet.
          Georges is more consummate in that art. Their meeting is not coincidental. You will see that.
          — Thank you Grandad, it’s becoming a bit less confusing.
          — Just flow with the story my little one, don’t hold on too much, or you will find it too difficult, and you will stop to find fun in it.

          “Their meeting is not coincidental” Sanso repeated to himself, popping it into his clue bag. “Well, I don’t know about Meanings, but at least I have a new bag of clues now!”

          #2787
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Becky had an idea, but only a moment, and then ten minutes later had a sudden impulse and bought some green shades… brilliant, brilliant! Let the shifting take place! Now wearing a beautiful tiny grin of satisfaction Becky had to meet the others.

            #2324

            Ann slapped her forehead when she realized her mistake, notwithstanding that there were no ‘mistakes’ as such.

            The story is for the writer that writes it, not the reader.

            What the repercussions of that were for the future of publishing, Ann wasn’t quite sure.

            “Oh, I can answer that for you, dear” Lavender responded. “On my recent trip to the future I went to the Pick Your Own Pages book store. There’s a wonderful Pick ‘N’ Mix section, and a Lucky Dip. You can pick various quantities, such as chapters, pages, paragraphs or sentences, and you arrange them yourself.”

            “What a wonderful idea!” Ann replied.

            “Oh, the idea was an old one, very old!” Lavvie explained. “People were doing it all along, though they didn’t realize it. The idea of being spoon fed an entire story went out with the Ark. It was the advent of random quote generators that started the ball rolling.”

            Ann beatled off to check the random quote for the day….

            Arona! Sanso! Oh, how wonderful to see you guys again! Come and meet Lavender and Walter, we’re discussing continuity….”

            #2297

            Gremwick was glad the Fisherman had come to repair the Cloud Fishes of the Inner Aerial Pool of the Worseversity.

            It’s been a few days that he’d noticed an unusual lack of randomness in the swimming patterns of the little Cloud Fishes.
            As they were usually used for the divination courses, no sooner was the issue identified than the students had to temporarily recourse to the use of pigeons for their assignments —which sadly left a stinking trail of devastation on the usually pristine marble floors that greatly infuriated Charity, the cleaning lady, otherwise known for her great patience and candor, who’d kept cursing like a sailor against the winged demonic creatures the last past weeks.

            The incident in itself was not of immense consequence in the grand scheme of things, but it felt worrisome for the Dean that these swimming creatures known for their quite reliable and, yes, totally unfloundering randomness had suddenly decided to adopt a monotonous pattern.
            In that disposition, they were merely echoing the requester’s requests in a manner of a mirror instead of evoking strange and obscure meanings from the depths of the universe.

            It had amused the students very much, as it was making their assignments apparently far easier —there was no thing left in need of deciphering, unless the students’ requests were themselves incoherent, which could on occasion happen especially after the Special Crop Circle Lessons. As no incident was without meaning, the Dean had pondered this one, but without any satisfactory answer as of yet.

            At least, it had been the occasion to meet the Fisherman, and to ponder on the plainness of a world without unpredictability.

            #2279

            Ann glanced vaguely over the bookcase, wondering where her dictionary was. Did people still use dictionaries in book form? I suppose any book will do for the purpose, she decided, and reached for the nearest book, a book about Rembrandt. She opened it randomly five times, using a ball point pen as a pointer, and selected five words for Prof Underbaker’s assignment.

            …now…excite…

            What a coincidence, I might be able to kill two birds with one stone here, Ann thought, with a slight shudder at the bird killing metaphor (if it was indeed a metaphor, Ann tended to skip the Labelling Words classes)…

            …someone…

            Ah, but who? Who shall I excite?

            …pointed…

            Pointed in the right direction? Addressed someone pointedly? Not to put too fine a point on it…

            ….time

            Ann was interested to note that her selection of words started with the word NOW and ended with TIME, and popped it into her clue box in an effort to stay on course and finish the assigment.

            ~~~

            There was no time like the present. Indeed T’Eggy was well aware that All is Now, she’d heard about that theory in Wicks, the online magazine that she’d found so enlightening. She’d been reading a copy of Wicks (a reproduction, the originals were now collectors items and very valuable ~ in an artifact rather than a monetary value kind of way, monetary value having been devalued in the early part of the century) in the teleport waiting room when she met the handsome foreignor in the dusty blue robes. Of course, it was not unusual to meet foreignors in the teleport waiting room, not unusual at all, but the tall, dark, and handsome stranger had excited her. Perhaps it was the flash of long lean tanned thigh that she glimpsed as his robes caught on the door knob. Of course, even the ‘waiting room’ was a retro touch, because there was no need to ‘wait’ for teleport travel. It seemed ironic in a way that folks in the old days had perceived ‘waiting’ as an onerous thing, an somewhat unpleasant period of clock watching and crossword puzzle books. These days ‘waiting rooms’ were popular places to meet people and choose probability pools. The latest trend was Turtle Nights, and Frog Nights, where men and women gathered in waiting rooms to choose partners, to find that special someone, loosely based on the old Hen and Stag nights.

            “Do teleport stations have door knobs, Ann?” Pedro interjected.

            “Oh!” Ann was momentarily non plussed.

            “Non plussed? Is that a word?” asked Pedro.

            Pedro, stop interrupting! The assigment isn’t to design a teleport station!”

            The teleport station had been designed in retro style, a facsimile of the Atocha train station in Madrid. Lack of need for physical details had not resulted in a lack of appreciation for physical detail simply for it’s artistic merit, not to mention historical educational value, and the TRANS (Teleport Relative to Any Now Space) Station was an award winning example of old fashioned detail. Why, it even had doorknobs, even though doors had been dispensed with several decades ago.

            “I thought the assigment wasn’t to design a teleport station?” asked Pedro.

            “Does it bloody matter?” retorted Ann, with a hint of exasperation. “The overall point is to write rubbish, and that’s what I’m doing!”

            “I’m glad you pointed that out, Ann” remarked Pedro helpfully.

            “Oh my god, look at the time!” Ann exclaimed. “It’s time for class!”

            “Bugger that!” snorted Pedro. “I’d rather hear about what happened with T’Eggy and that tall dark stranger!”

            #2568

            In reply to: Strings of Nines

            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Franlise was pondering the distorted image she knew Ann had of her. Of course Ann was perhaps not the best judge of character. Her seven failed marriages bore testament to that indisputable fact.

              It is a bloody good thing, she mused, that I am so confident of my own inner loveliness. All these disparaging remarks could really begin to get me down otherwise.

              Casting an admiring sideways glance at herself in the large, and somewhat dusty, mirror hanging from the wall in Ann’s office, she hurried off for her 3pm meeting with the Fellowship.

              #2505

              In reply to: Strings of Nines

              AvatarJib
              Participant

                Yann was excited, he just had a mail from the cattery “The Laughing Cats” telling him they would send him pictures of the new litter. The little kittens had just opened their eyes and apparently they were very cute.

                When they went to that cat exhibition with Ewrick in March, Yann thought it was just to meet a friend of his who was a cat breeder himself, and they actually met him. His cat was gorgeous and seemed so comfortable that you could have thought he had been drugged. Yann’s friend told them he was always like a big stuffed toy.

                They chatted a bit and Ewrick and Yann wandered about to have a look at the other cats, and that’s when Yann saw the Abyssinian cats of the Carnelian cattery. The cats were solar and majestic, their cinnamon coat were stealing Yann’s heart. He knew he would get one… soon.

                After a few weeks looking on the Internet at the different catteries, the different websites about this particular race, Yann decided to take his phone and make a call. He’d selected a few numbers and decided to just have another look on the net and found the Laughing Cat cattery, they got new kittens since a few days only and there was one of them whose coat was cinnamon. It seemed it was the perfect one, so Yann called that cattery first and the guy told him there were no call for this one color yet though he had many calls from Russian or other European breeders for the others…

                Yann asked if they already had pictures but apparently the kittens had still their eyes closed and he was waiting a bit to take pictures… “they looks like rats you know”… no matter, he’d wait.

                And they had opened their eyes now, he’d get pictures very soon now.

                #2504

                In reply to: Strings of Nines

                The smell of the incense was giving her a sense of comfort and was helping her unfocus her attention in order to let the trance occur. She was one of the Seers of the Crimson Feather Order and when she was in a trance, the Goddess was speaking through her for those priests or priestesses who were seeking directions.

                The Seers usually had no memories of what was happening when they were speaking for the Goddess and they were usually coupled with a Witness so the message would not be altered by the requester to best suit his or her desire. Depending on the clarity of the message, a period of evaluation and interpretation could be necessary and in case of official communications it was then forwarded to every temple.

                Though in certain occasions the Witness could be missing as it was the case today. The archbishop Boorla had requested a meeting with no Witness, and in such cases the value of the information was only considered of personal nature. He was late, and she could put off the meeting if she wanted to, but a faint feeling was suggesting her to wait a bit longer.

                When he entered a few minutes later, introduced by her usual Witness, he seemed furious and having great difficulties containing his anger. He was a red long-haired cat and his collar was particularly imposing in such moments. She had to focus on herself and not let his irritation make her loose her balance for the trance. As the Witness left the room, she took a deep breath and purred gently as she began the ritual. The Requester had to keep silence until being invited to do ask their question and she needed some time to calm him.

                She felt at first his irritation grow as she was purposefully delaying the beginning of the trance, but he couldn’t resist longer the soothing purr of the Seer, and as she asked the ritual question, she felt her consciousness fading out.

                :fleuron:

                When she came out of trance, she was feeling sick, the delivery of the message had been interrupted and though he was silent she could feel the fury of the archbishop flowing like waves. Apparently the message didn’t please him at all, and he barely spoke the ending ritual Thanks to the Goddess before he left the room hissing.

                Though she was feeling tired and would need some rest, she couldn’t help wondering what had happen.

                #2229
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Larisa glanced at the cute pig faced clock ticking happily away on the kitchen wall.

                  Blimmin’ Heck! how could that possibly be the time? …. and what was time anyway?

                  Well whatever it was, there was certainly none of it to spare for that sort of philosophical carry on! She was well late for her meeting with Jane and Rob to discuss the latest project. Of course she was nearly always late, so she consoled herself with the fact that Jane and Rob already would have explored the probability that the meeting wouldn’t start at seven. They were pretty good with probabilities. Throwing her, it must be said rather bizarre and fantastical, Ewko Lemin novel down, Larisa hurriedly gulped back the last of her blue and red vitamin pills, shouted out a quick farewell to Greve, who was staying with her while he recovered from his latest disastrous rowing escapade, and dashed out the door.

                  #2222
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Are Nut Bans Promoting Hysteria?

                    Every parent of a school-age child has heard the warnings about nuts. Some schools ban nuts entirely, while others set aside special nut-free tables.

                    While nuts are clearly a risk to some children, often the response to this health concern represents “a gross overreaction to the magnitude of the threat,” argues Dr Pistachio, an internal medicine doctor and professor at Pecan Medical School, in a recent column in the medical journal Nut Case.

                    Measures to protect children from nuts are becoming increasingly absurd and hysterical, say experts.

                    A nut rolling on the floor of a US school bus recently led to evacuation and decontamination for fear it might have affected the 10-year-old passengers, who were not classified as nuts.

                    Professor Pistachio said the issue was not whether nuts existed or whether they could occasionally be a serious threat. Nor was the issue whether reasonable preventative steps should be made for the few children who were documented as non-nuts, he argued.

                    “The issue is what accounts for the extreme responses to nuts.”

                    “We try to relieve anxiety about nuts by signs saying, ‘this is a nut free zone,’ which suggests that nuts are a clear and present danger,” Dr. Pistachio said. “But in doing so, we increase the anxiety.”

                    Being a severe nut shapes your whole life – and those of the people around you, as Cashew Cacahuete learned.

                    For most women trying to avoid the amorous advances of their husband, the line “Not tonight, I’ve got a headache” will suffice. For her, a simple “Don’t come near me, I am nuts” does the trick.

                    ‘Nut phobias are a growing phenomenon of the last 10 to 15 years,” says Professor P. Nut, an expert in nuts who is conducting a study to see if exposure to nuts in early life can inhibit such phobias. “One reason is that we’re all far too scared and bored, so we start attacking friendly characters such as nuts.” Prof P. Nut says that in African and Asian countries where pregnant women aren’t discouraged from socializing with nuts, have very low levels of nut phobia. “These countries have higher levels of parasitic infections than ours, so it’s possible that their belief systems may be protected from phobias.”

                    He also disputes Department of Fear advice that advises pregnant women and breastfeeding mothers to avoid nuts. He says there may be a case for exposing children to nuts. “Those who meet nuts early in life may in fact be protected against nut phobia, in contrast with previous studies which have suggested the opposite.”

                    #2220

                    And look at the funny messages her business cards have on them! Lavender pulled a selection of cards from her purse. I mean how weird is this:

                    Lester’s ex-wife keeps the milk cold. Batman316 is a nugget

                    and listen to this one:

                    We have a lot of fun doing it and you can too.

                    So I just knew it had to be some sort of clue. So you know me … I just had to make an appointment to see her!

                    Oh of course, agreed Decimus, scratching his ear. You don’t have a business card for Dr Limur in there by any chance do you?

                    oh no, sorry. Anyway, before I meet Annabel, I intend to go shopping for some new parasites. Aspidistra asked me to bring some back for her … and it is the least I can do really.

                    Yes, parasites sound great, sighed Decimus. You know the name of Annabel Ingram does ring a bell. Is she the one who takes guided tours of the Doorway of the Goddess Amarylis Moo Rue?

                    #2203

                    The Fellowship wish to extend our greetings to you young lady, and to thank you most sincerely for gracing us with your delightful presence.

                    Lavender smiled encouragingly at the pointy headed gentleman who was welcoming her so warmly. Still, she was wondering anxiously why she had been summoned to this meeting of the Fellowship, when her little Essence was not due for another two days.

                    Thank you, it is I who am honoured to be here. she responded politely.

                    The Speaker smiled benignly at her. I sense your anxiety. Let me assure you there is no reason for concern. We are very happy with your pregnancy. However we did encounter some unexpected challenges. Perhaps, it is best if you just see for yourself.

                    He nodded to one of the Helpers, who waited like silent black shadows around the edges of the room. The Helper disappeared, and returned a moment later carrying a large bundle, which appeared to be wiggling vigorously. The Helper laid the bundle gently at Lavender’s feet and unwrapped the cover. Three little striped piglets emerging, squealing indignantly.

                    Yes, smiled the Speaker. We are delighted to inform you that your pregnancy has resulted in triplet piglets. I am sure even though this is unexpected, you will be as thrilled as we here at the Fellowship are.

                    Lavender hoped Aspidistra liked piglets as much as the Fellowship clearly did …

                    #1273
                    AvatarJib
                    Participant

                      Hey Al!
                      Al was surprised at the sudden surge of energy triggered by his friend Sam trying to establish contact. Apparently he was excited and he was sending his energy stronger than usual.

                      Al opened himself to the communication and welcomed his friend. Imagining himself in this neutral room in another layer of their shared reality like some kind of meeting place.

                      Have a seat :)
                      Thanks Al, I won’t stay long but I wanted to invite you, Tina and Becky to a party that I organize in The City. I already tried to contact them, but Tina doesn’t respond much lately and I thought that you could ask her to come along. Becky was busy but answered that she would come and that only had to give you the details as she would have forgotten them anyway.

                      Wow, wow, why don’t you just relax! I never saw you like that before…
                      Well, I have something to celebrate, I’ll tell you more when you’re here.

                      Sam vanished leaving a puzzled Al in the not so physical room.

                      #1254
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        The F.U.N. picnic was rather conveniently located within the Elsespace Arrangement , which in practical terms meant that individuals from any time or space could meet within the parameters of Elsespace without having to worry about continuity or time lines. Elsespace arrangements were located anywhere and everywhere, so to speak ~ being hard, by definition, to define. The Elsespace was gaining in popularity, which was hardly surprising. If anything was surprising, it was that it hadn’t caught on sooner. The result of the surge in favour was that almost all social events were now* held in The Elsespace Arrangement.

                        *Note: Any now

                        #1251

                        Siobahn had a few more cages to rattle before she she made her way to the meeting. The Freakus management had invited a spokesman from the S.E.C.R.E.T. department (otherwise known as Special Exploration Corps of Really Entertaining Trivia) to give a speech on the art of C.R.A.P.S. (also known as the Coordinated Redistribution of Ambiguously Protected Secrets). All staff were expected to attend the meeting, which unfortunately meant that Siobhan had to refuse an invitation to the F.U.N. picnic (otherwise known as Foundation of Unimportant Nonsense to Those In The Show, which, dear reader, you will recall are also known as T.I.T.S.)

                        Siobhan rattled the last few cages on her list, and made her way back to her caravan. She had an hour to relax before the meeting so she turned the portable channelvision on and settled herself comfortably on the sofa to surf through the channels. The first channel she landed on was twitching and shouting, ‘The present is not a result of the past, orlright? Orlright, orlright’; the next channel was chuckling and saying with a sly grin, ‘…that would be your choice…”. Flicking through a few more channels, hearing the words ascended higher density love and light and light and love and all is one stuff, Siobahn kept surfing. Sheesh, they are all just saying the same thing, over and over again, she thought to herself, same old same old, blah blah blah… what she wouldn’t have given for some new channel to say something completely different.

                        Pfft. Siobahn turned off the channelvision and stood up. She made up her mind in the moment to go to the F.U.N. picnic anyway, and bugger the meeting. Maybe she would even start channeling something completely different, just for some bloody variety. Cage Rattling was in her blood, after all, she was a born Cage Rattler and it seemed to her that the whole channelvision empire was getting altogether too samey.

                        #1244

                        “Can we go home now?” Arona asked the dragon … “I don’t know what we came here to do, but I miss Buckberry and Yikesy (and his nanny), even old grumpy Mandrake. And it feels like we’ve been gone for months!”

                        “You’re not interested by knowing more about this place , are you?” asked Leörmn

                        She didn’t answer lest she might hurt the dragon’s feelings —if he had any, that is.

                        “Well, I don’t want to get home so soon!” said Irtak who was usually keeping quiet, but obviously was taking it all in here, being on this place like a grake on a lake.

                        Leörmn took a deep breathe, pondering the situation and the many other probable realities verging on this one, and told Arona:

                        “I believe there is a cave, at a day of walk from the shore, inside this land. This cave was used by the Guardians, long before you were born, and is known to dragons and nirguals from this time. From this cave, you shall be able to travel where you want. You may even meet the zynder to guide you.”

                        Arona was thinking that the dragon was surely becoming senile talking all that nonsense she could barely figure out, but she was too considerate to mention it.

                        “Do you remember your glubolin?” the dragon continued abruptly, but her mind was sharp, and she answered with certainty

                        “I sure do. Why?”

                        “Please take a moment to feel the remembrance of it”

                        Well, sure, if that can please you she had learnt not to contradict old dotty dragons, so she tried her best to remember herself and Mandrake playing with the glowing ball filled with coloured sands ; that would surely not bring her back home, but at least the dragon couldn’t accuse her of not complying.

                        “Continue…”

                        As she remembered it, she felt how delicious and strange that object was, and how she’d loved it, and suddenly, it was here. In her hands!

                        “The old dotty dragon still has a few tricks up its scales, young lady” Leörmn said with a slight smug on his snout (or whatever it is called).

                        “Oh, that’s all very nice, but what’s the point of dragging this along?”

                        “It’ll show you where to go” Leörmn answered, “use it as a compass; I’ve imprinted it with the location of the cave, so that you won’t be lost, and can find your way to the cave, or wherever you want to go. We are continuing here with the boys. Have a safe trip. We will meet again.”

                        Arona blew a kiss in the direction of Irtak and the dragons, and without hesitation went in the direction of the dense tropical forest.

                        “Well, that dragon is an odd ball, but at least, I don’t have to wait for them to finish whatever they’re doing on that weird place.” Arona was glad to be finally alone for the next days.

                        “Will she be safe here?” asked Irtak

                        “I believe she will, she has got resources. Besides, the Murtuane is a place filled with a certain peace and blessed with a slow unraveling of time; it helps take the measure of the events, and find one’s own truths.”

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