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  • #469

    Leörmn was feeling a bit weird to be so intimately explored by this Georges. He was seeing him, actually another aspect of himself with his simultaneous eye in that other time. He was wondering why Malvina was also choosing to perceive time as the other human beings. Leörmn, and other dragons had a very different way of exploring and being in time and space. They were their focus and it was simultaneous… it was also ever changing and that’s why the narrator is having lots of difficulties to translate that… but if you connect with your inner senses I’m sure you’ll get it right :D

    Well the dragon was seeing simultaneously the Georges in this particular intersection of their aspects in this now that was also connected with so many nows. He could easily follow the particular movement of this Georges and was seeing also the many paths and probabilities he was following at the same time. Leörmn had that particular multi-dimensional focus with which he could easily communicate with his human friends. He wasn’t mentioning all that they were doing in the many intersections of his self for it was unnecessary, but he was aware they weren’t fully aware… or rather that their awareness was directed differently.

    This Georges, and this Salome were similar to Malvina. He was fully aware of the vastness of her being and of her deep understanding of his own vastness. They were connected and intersected in numerous ways. This creature of theirs was here too. She was with Malvina. In other intersections she was manifesting a different shape, this one was interesting also. Her energy was subtly different also, there were different energies that were intersecting with other aspects of these Georges and Salome.

    The room was reshaped in himself, so it was reshaped in what the humans would call the outside… but it was inside, there was no such thing as outside.

    For a few days, this particular intersection of himself was changing also because Malvina was altering this aspect of herself she was calling her thought process. She was disassociating many layers of energies, of patterns and rearranging them. It was a fun reorganization for him also… in a manner of speaking it had already happened, but it was a new exploration and it was radiating in many probabilities. He added a smell of roses in the cave, an impulse. The shades of pink he added in the crystals was not a random choice either :yahoo_rose:

    He realized now what was the new energy he’d been feeling, he added some qualities and aspects to this exploration and included a fleck of himself in the Leo. What a funny creature. His aspects intersecting with it were all full of joy and fun. It was a good choice, he thought as a translation of his excitement in this new exploration. He was enjoying tremendously this present of this Salome.

    He shape-shifted a little to reorganize his scales on his shoulders so the Leo could easily rest there, and projected himself to Malvina.

    :www:

    #397
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Sanso emerged from the dark cave, squinting in the bright sunlight. He could hear a bit of a commotion going on, and while his eyes adjusted to the light, he heard a voice in his head reciting as if from a book:

      « Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson helped his wife Floribunda onto the camel, and clamboured onto his own. Cranky and Illi were mounted on donkeys, as were Tibn Zig and Tanlil Ubt, their local guides. Three hot dusty days, and two bitterly cold nights away lay their destination: Tsnit n’Agger and the home of the legendary giant of the…… »

      Sanso found himself looking into the eyes of a curious child, and presumed correctly that the child was Illi. Illi stared at the apparition in indigo blue robes, without mentioning him to the other members of her group. After some moments of wordless communication and understanding, they winked at each other.

      Sanso, Illi now knew, would lead them to the giant bones.

      #389
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        In actuality, Sumelfi was just pretending to be busy in front of Becky. All this record keeping, so popular with earthlings, was quite simply unnecessary. Anyone at all could access any information at all, in no time at all. Sumelfi and her colleagues had had many a laugh at their assigned individuals and their vast librairies and tag clouds and piles of printed paper records.

        The job of the Sumafi Elves was to facilitate finding the right information at the right time, that was all, and if the earthlings felt happier thinking there were actual physical ‘records’, then for the time being, the elves were happy to go along with the illusion.

        If only they knew, Sumelfi giggled, the infinitely hugely infinite amount of so called ‘records’ and ‘information’, not to mention its ever-changing malleability, why they’d quite possibly feel completely overwhelmed. Well, thought Sumelfi, I suppose that is the point of Me.

        #308
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          When Dory finally woke up from her coleslaw induced stupour, she felt quite befuddled. What a peculiar trip it had been! I’ve taken some recreational drugs in my time, Dory thought, but I’ve never had a trip quite like that one. She wondered what on earth George had drugged the coleslaw with. Dory closed her eyes again, recalling snatches of the hallucinations.

          Being chased by bandits on hairpin mountain roads with a small baby girl in the car; being held at gunpoint by Idi Amin in an Afrian court; running, running, gasping with terror, chased by old fashioned Bobbies on pushbikes, and dough faced bowler hatted debt collectors…..

          Dory’s heart was pounding again as she recalled the images that rolled along like a crazy movie montage, a psycho thriller, a horror movie…..

          ……being held down under the bathwater as a baby with a vicious scowling face looming above her; fighting with a witch in the garden shed for tense petrifying hours; monstrous demons snaking blacky out of ouija boards, and madness and asylums; a man lying in a double bed dying from self inflicted stab wounds and she was shouting and calling and nobody hearing; running, running and gasping, shouting for help and no-one was there…..

          Well, Dory pulled herself together, No point in dwelling on it, it was just a freaky bad trip.

          Coffee? George asked.

          Dory’s head snapped round. Huh? Oh! Gosh, YES please! You’re still here are you? Dory rubbed her eyes and shook herself a bit. Just the mention of coffee had already started to snap her out of her unpleasant reverie.

          Of course I’m still here, Dory, George said kindly. I am always here. I was with you during you trip, every step of the way, but you were not focused on me.

          You WERE? Dory was momentarily non-plussed. And then, Well why did you let all that awful stuff happen then? Why didn’t you help me? You just stood there and watched?

          #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.

          #260
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Arona and Mandrake sat side by side looking into the glass ball filled with sand. They had been practising for some time, and had both become quite proficient at shifting the sand.

            So what shall we make now Mandrake? Something we both like maybe?

            A fish perhaps? suggested Mandrake

            Oh excellent idea! and no sooner was it thought of than the sand would shift accordingly.

            Scrambled eggs I think too, on chunks of homemade bread, said the still hungry Arona, and chocolate!

            Some milk for me, said Mandrake

            Hmmm not sure about that Mandrake. Lots of cats have allergies to cows milk.

            Mandrake rolled his eyes And chocolate might make you fat, he said, but was I so rude as to mention it? and Mandrake created a hairy cow, and a farmer to milk the cow.

            Arona laughed, and created a little sand langoat, just in case the stubborn Mandrake changed his mind. Langoat’s milk would be much better for him she thought.

            The glass ball was now filled with a miniature world of sand objects.

            Arona leaned back against the wall and stroked Mandrake. She felt very fond of the grumpy cat. The feeling of being able to create whatever she wanted had been fun. Perhaps, she thought, her creations were rather rudimental at this stage, but then already she could feel bigger things brewing within her as her confidence grew. She felt as though the sand game had focused her, like a beam of light which shone only on that which was intended.

            Arona closed her eyes and allowed her mind to open and reach out, something she knew she had always been able to do easily, but her fear of the “madness” had made her cautious and hide these abilities, till she became unsure of them. The “madness” was the term the people in her Village had given to the poor wretched wandering ones, who claimed to hear voices and communicate with Gods. Once as a child she had seen the Villagers drive one of these poor souls from the Village, shouting and abusing him. She did not really understand what he had done, only that the Villagers were afraid of him. So Arona had felt it was better to keep some things to herself.

            Arona left her mind open and allowed images to enter. Some of the images she did not understand, and she let them flow on, enjoying the energy of them notwithstanding. She saw a dragon, it was not the one with the mouthful of riddles, but another one, a baby one she felt. Her ability to see pictures was quite rusty, but she felt a connection with this baby dragon and a great fondness for it.

            She felt a great peacefulness in her body, a knowledge that walking in the world of magic would be easier from now on

            #180

            A middle-aged man was looking upon her when Illi woke up.

            — Where am I? Who are you?, she asked a bit uncomfortable, her body swollen from the many bumps she had had in her recent adventures.
            — Don’t move too much, answered the man, I found you near the gulch, you were exhausted and delirious. Actually, you can thank my dogs for having found you, though you were so anxious that you still found the strength to run away from them…

            Illi smiled faintly.

            — And, I’m Huÿgens.
            — Thank you for your hospitality, finally said Illi, who was not accustomed to such kindness from the people of this land, especially towards her kind.
            — Don’t mention it, that’s all natural, said Huÿgens. You know, my dogs have found you near a hole where my son had fallen some time ago. He had been lucky enough not to break his bones, because we humans are less prone to acrobatics than your kind… but well, I would have appreciated that someone take care of him, if he had been in the same predicament.
            — I don’t have children, said Illi dreamily, that’s also why I left my tribe, I wanted to live a free life… What’s his name?
            Írtak, answered the stocky man with a hint of pride in his smile. It means “arrow head” in the Old Speech…
            — That’s lovely, smiled Illi, feeling now much more comfortable on the rough bed.
            — Now, take some rest. There is some pruidgee in the bowl here, if you want some, it’s made with milk of my langoats. That’ll make you stronger. If you need anything, just howl. I won’t be far.
            — Thank you, answered Illi with gratitude.

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