Search Results for 'met'

Forums Search Search Results for 'met'

Viewing 20 results - 1,341 through 1,360 (of 1,399 total)
  • Author
    Search Results
  • #294

    Illi was beginning to really appreciate being dead and the freedom it provided to create whatever she wished at a moments notice. She’d enjoyed being a shape shifter while she was alive, often changing into a rather odd cat-like creature which was one of her favourites. She’d had tremendous fun over the years, confounding people with that one! Is it a cat? Is it a person? Is it a goat? A mongoose? hahaha what fun she’d had!

    Illi surveyed the long glittering white beach on her paradise island. There must be a million billion grains of sand here. I think I will conjure up some sand sculptures, fill the beach with fantastic magical creatures….

    Illi picked up a bambu cane to use as a magic wand ~ not that she needed a wand in order to perform magic, but she rather liked waving a stick around.

    Abracadabra the magic palabra, fairies and goblins and sprites!

    In an instant the beach was full of sand sprites, a veritable sea of impish little figures as far as the eye could see.

    HHHMM, though Illi, they are all so small, I’d like something big I think, for contrast and added dimension.

    Abracadabra the magic palabra, centaurs and unicorns and giants!

    Lordy, the giants had flattened whole tribes of sand gnomes. A few less giants, I think! Illi waved her magic wand of cane again, and disappeared all but one of the giants. RaFa the Giant, you may stay on my beach, Illi graciously declared to a kindly looking character of monstrous proportions who had considerately appeared at the very end of the beach so as not to flatten the sand sprites.

    On impulse, Illi found herself chanting the spell again…Abracadabra the magic palabra, DRAGONS appear on my beach!

    Four splendid sand dragons appeared in the shallows of the lagoon, sensuously sepentine in appearance, and sparkling in the tropical sun.

    #1309

    In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      October 12 th

      Lots of movements have been started, movements of expansion, and the joint efforts and ventures took off for new exciting potentials when the migration to the new “expanded sandbox” (as playfully expressed by Quintin) has been completed.
      Interestingly, it has been relatively painless and quick in both the find of the perfect “method”, and the perfect “tools”. In noticing how the feelings where acting as a compass that was telling him whether he was in the right direction or not, and in trusting them, Quintin has incorporated that tool without previous knowledge of its potential use. He just knew it was right.
      And so it is.

      October 16 th

      My dear friend Elias has expressed some time ago this, which may be interesting for the adventurers to read and see how it applies to them…

      “I expressed to you at our last meeting that some focuses continue each other as ‘sequels’ of books. … They are continuations, so to speak. Although they are not accomplished linearly, you may view them as continuing chapters of the same story. In this, they would be considered parallel focuses. You may view within your new game many focuses in which you have held experiences quite different to each other. Then you may also view some focuses that are seemingly related. You are engaged with all of the same characters within a continuation of the same play.” [Elias, #142]

      #287
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        India Louise and Eugenia momentarily forgot about the gold locket and walked over to the exceptionally long trunk. India dropped the locket into her pocket as she investigated the exterior of the trunk, which didn’t appear to have an opening. It seemed to have been made around whatever it housed, and permanently.

        ‘How strange’, mused India, ‘it must not be intended to open, ever!’

        ‘That makes me want to open it’, said Eugenia. ‘Let’s! Let’s open it!’

        Eugenia was rummaging in the desk drawers for a suitable tool.

        ‘Wow, look at this, Indy’. She held a heavy black letter opener up to show India, with an elaborate carved dragon on the handle. The dragon had glittering amethyst eyes, and a serpentine line of coloured stones along its back.

        India shivered involuntarily at the sight of the dragon. Horrid nasty creatures, dragons, she muttered, resisting an urge to cross herself. ‘Peace be with you, now bugger off’ she whispered the spell under her breath so Eugenia wouldn’t hear her and think she was a silly goose. Horrid scaley slimy stinky reptiles.

        ‘You go first, Genie, try and prise the trunk open.’ India didn’t want to touch the letter opener, but she was rather curious about the contents of the trunk.

        Eugenia was a strong and capable lass, with a practical methodical mind ~ unlike India Louise ~ and before long the first piece of wood came splintering off.

        ‘Nice one, Genie, well done.’ India said as Eugenia wrenched off another few planks.

        ‘Oh MY GOD!’ ‘Jumping Jehosophat!’ ‘What the……’ ‘Holy Moly, Genie, what the….’. After a few initial exclamations, the girls were silent, the hair standing up on their arms.

        They were looking down at the shrivelled features of a dried up body, covered in bits of disintegrating faded fabric.

        ‘A mummy! It’s a friggen mummy!’

        #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.

        #281
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          That morning Fiona knew she needed to change her name. Fiona was a nice name, and she was quite fond of it, but she needed to reflect the inner changes which were happening and it didn’t feel right any more. (Well were there inner changes and did she need to reflect them? Buggered if she knew. All she knew was that it did not feel right.) At that very moment she looked down at the book she was reading and instantly the name “Finn” popped out at her. As this was a variation of Fiona, it seemed perfect to her. So really she wasn’t changing her name at all, just focusing on a different aspect of it, or something.

          #1473
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            :notepad: Seems there is an issue when you take too long to write a comment, the system thinks you are not signed in any longer.
            Will see what I can do.

            In the meantime, if that happens, just copy your comment from the comment box, and then reload the page, and paste/post it back… Sorry for any inconvenience…

            [EDIT] I’ve changed something in the configuration of the cookies, perhaps that’ll help. Might be a good thing to clear your cookies in your browser too, just in case…

            #280

            When Rudy the myna had come back crashing on the boat, it all became suddenly a huge uncontrollable chaos.
            The hovering menacing clouds that were looming in front of them were coming closer at a dreadful speed, and even more concerning were the rocks that were appearing everywhere now, that they had more and more trouble to avoid in betwixt the turmoils and eddies.

            So they had finally come to the Great Rift, Bådul was thinking. The back of the legendary water dragon that noone was known to have crossed.

            But Bådul knew better.
            He howled orders to get everybody ready at their posts, and felt reassured when he saw that Austor was maneuvering with dexterity and confidence through the rift.
            He ignored the crazy laugh of Razkÿ, the madman who was now shouting with a manic laughter “We all gonna diiie! AHAHAHAH! DIE! DIE!” Then winking at Bådul and laughing again.

            :fleuron: :fleuron:

            A few months earlier, Northern Åsgurdy

            A huge cloaked figure was riding in the middle of the deserts. The saurhse, a bit small for its rider, was getting tired, but the man wanted to move before the night came. Åsgurdy had a climate which made travels uneasy on land, and only on these bipedal saurians they named saurhses, could Åsgurdians easily travel on the burning hot sands by day. Then, they could gain the high plateaus of rock and ice, where the temperature was kept cold by the high chilly winds. But at night, the deserts would be chilly too, and the cold-blooded creature he was mounting would require a shelter.

            He knew that such a shelter wouldn’t be far away now.
            That region was mostly uncharted as it was fairly remote from all known cities, but that strange man he had met had said he was a traveler who knew were he could find something priceless.
            At that time, Badul had felt he had nothing to lose, and said to himself “when in doubt, go for the experience”.
            He had felt he could trust that man known to him only by a strange name, something like Gheorg.
            There had been nothing boastful about him, and he had been kind to him. He had been the only person in the World he had known to have given him back his dignity as a human being, and even more, to have given him a reason to live.
            He owed him a lot, and perhaps even more as he was now drawing closer to the cave… that same cave which was a mere cross on the torn map he had been drawing hastily before vanishing almost preternaturally, living him a bit of money and that map…

            ~~~

            Roselÿn had felt the urge to move somewhere else. This land didn’t resonate with her energy, and that of Rëgkvist, and of the few eggs the dragon had managed to lay, none had actually been able to hatch.
            It had affected her so much that she had even retreated from her sisters’ usual talks through the glubolíns.
            She needed to move on.

            ~~~

            When he entered the cave, Badul was disappointed. He could feel there had been someone living here quite recently, but it was like the cave was now abandoned. He hoped he could have found more answers, but now it was again like burning sand slipping through his fingers.

            In a fit of rage, he took a boulder as big as him and threw it across the cave with a roar.
            Something was brought down by his huge force further down into the cave and he heard it quite distinctly.

            He tied up the saurhse at the entrance of the cave, and entered it with determination, ducking through the tunnel too narrow for his big baby-faced frame. Then he found something glowing. At first, he thought it was some gold, but what kind of fool had been living here before and had been in such a haste to move as to forget gold?

            It was not gold. It was something like a broken shell. The broken bits were like a jigsaw puzzle and he wished he could make it one, as he was attracted by the strange radiance of the thing.

            :fleuron: :fleuron:

            Austor did not believe his eyes…
            They had crossed the Rift, all three of the ships.
            And it was nothing like the dark void they had nearly expected behind.

            It was an open sea, glistening in the sun, and all hope had come back through them all.

            #279

            Once Illi had realized she was dead and could ‘go’ anywhere she liked simply by creating the ‘place’ around her, she decided to take a long relaxing holiday on a deserted tropical island. She would float in the warm lagoon, feast on coconuts and pina coladas and mangoes, play with the dancing lemurs and build fantastic sand castles on the beaches. As she visualized it, it appeared as if by magic all around her…the sun warm on her head, the sand between her toes, the gentle breeze fragrant with exotic blooms and the sound of gossiping parrots filled her senses. She closed her eyes and flung her arms wide in appreciation for the physical joys she had recreated, breathed deeply and relaxed for the first time since she had died. Finally, she felt like she knew where she was, even if that ‘somewhere’ was as ‘nowhere’ as ‘anywhere’ else, just another ‘elsewhere’ really…..

            Illi stretched out on her back on the golden sand and squinted up at the cloudless deep blue sky. How nice, she thought, not to have any aches and pains, not to have to worry about shifting and those bloody belief systems, how simply lovely to just BE, with no perceived responsibilities, no interruptions…

            Just then out of the corner of her eye, Illi saw movement in the sky. Something was descending onto the island. Illi couldn’t make out what it was, and wished she had a pair of binoculars. Silly Illi, she said to herself, reaching for the binoculars that had appeared beside her. I keep forgetting I can create anything at all.

            Holy Moly! A great fat roly poly nun with a huge jolly grin was wafting down from the heavens, with an irridescent turquoise fairy in tow. They were landing on her island! We’ll see about that! Illi jumped to her feet and stomped off the beach and into the mangroves, sloshing angrily through the watery roots….. until she realized she could hover above the ground, which was a much easier way to travel.

            Hovering was much quieter too, and the jolly fat nun and the bluegreen fairy were quite unaware that Illi was peering at them from behind a peachy hibiscus bush. In fact, the blooms on the hibiscus had grown to a most ridiculous size, and Illi could hardly see past them. She hovered to the side a bit, and decided on impulse to make her presence known to the intruders.

            BOUH! :yahoo_skull:

            #1308

            In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              September 24 th

              Quintin remembered a snapshot of the notes that Dory had taken during her first trip to the Madagascan caves, a year ago.

              Relevant extracts:

              At one moment, I saw some hooded figure in the sideways tunnels… He vanished on the left, couldn’t follow him…
              […] HE KNEW HIS WAY INSIDE !
              When he vanished, I had the vision of something, […] like the layout of a labyrinth, of cave tunnels — that are all underground and the many entrances are all over the world… PORTALS
              focus opening/doors ; time/space…
              The central cavernous part is some kind of key center, where anyone can meet…

              This has inspired Quintin to write some notes too.
              He has the vision of these portals organized as clusters, like a tree, with branches and leaves… I will send him a more detailed image, but that may take him some time to digest!

              September 26 th

              The latest additions to the story have inspired Quintin. He had some inkling of how “essence” (or what is somewhat referred as “oversoul” ) and all the “focus” of essence (or lifetimes) interplay, and are not as separate as they sometimes seem to be.

              Here would be what we will say to him, if he wants to listen:

              « Now, terminology can become tricky as, for much time, you have been accustomed to be considering of your experience as the projection of that of an “essence”, somewhat separate from you, the lowly focus.
              Of course, you pretend the contrary, and become quite nifty in brandishing sentences like “I am essence, and I create all of my reality”, which you are and do actually, but that you do not always believe and trust.
              These terms of “essence” and “focus” were given to you as means for you to better understand the interplay of consciousness. In the beginning of the acquaintance with these new terminologies, you have felt them remotely blurry and unrelated to previous concepts, which was the intention. But now, you once again objectify your understanding in something too rigid at times, and that little story is giving you a hint of what your real power is.
              And you begin to really experience it, and really pay attention.

              « As was expressed many times, “essence” is no thing. It is an action.
              The “essence” is each of you, that very portion of you that you feel when you slide your attention into the comment box.
              In that, your purpose, you see, is only to experience, nothing more, nothing less.
              And then time, as you know it, becomes irrelevant, you see. Your natural time is expressed through you and your explorations.
              Notice how playfully, as essence (essence playing focus or focus playing essence), you let your natural time unfold, and at times find some strange weather pattern in your awareness that needs clarification. As essence, you playfully find the most perfect habits [shapes and clothings] to wrap around you, and continue your story.
              Just as your dreams at night overlap and blend into each other.
              Just as Rafaela created new focuses [Sam and Becky] to continue to play and make the story expand for all of the other focuses, Dory included.

              « That “I” of you is ever present, and is reflected perfectly in others’ perceptions, as you are drawing them to you purposefully. Do not brush aside their adjuncts, for they are also you, having moved your pawns forward, so to speak, through their moves.

              « Thus understand that the story is a continuous stream reflecting the essence that is you, and your travel through the various guises you borrow.
              In that manner, it does not matter how much sense it makes in linear terms. Because, in a way, it can’t make sense in these linear terms.

              « Let us explain this in other terms.
              When you found difficulties in understanding the “scheme” so to speak, the figure that is drawn by the participants, it is because you apply the linear understanding of what such a scheme should be.
              In that, you only perceive the “plot” as a succession of dots without a continuity, whereas the continuity is to be found in the other stories interwoven.
              You are accustomed to stories where a single individual is enacting throughout the play, in a linear continuous fashion. The individual goes through many different actions, but is always the same in your perception.
              Here, the tricky thing is to notice the continuity throughout the various habits [clothings] taken by the essence(s). It matters not that the essence takes that guise of say, a pirate sailing on high seas, just after having been an old crafty Lord in his windy castle. The underlying aspects of his exploration has been continuous and coherent: in this case, exploring and making sense of one’s exploration. It is just that a certain appearance has been perhaps more fitting to express certain aspects or qualities of essence, but the exploration has been one, throughout the entirety of the experience.

              « We will let you ponder this, and we will continue our own story, writing about you… »

              September 28 th

              This sand symbol that Quintin has brought up seemed to have come from many directions at once. Each character has connected it, in various ways.
              Armelle (Arona) to her magic, Rafaela (Becky) to her collecting customs, etc. etc.

              Let us say that this symbol is not as innocent as it may seem. There are lots of associations with sand.
              It is solid, yet fluid. In association with water, it can be used to build, and also to erode. It can shift into many forms, one of which is your glass, and your electronic components.
              And most of all, it is, after your very oxygen, the most abundant constituent of your reality.
              It is almost limitless in your understanding.
              As is your magic.

              This magical device we made Quintin see in a visualization is an analogy of your very action of creation as essences.
              The sand which molds itself to make forms and shapes in three dimensions is in fact likened to your consciousness. Each grain of sand represents your links of consciousness that bind together to do your command.
              The shapes are moved by your essences, in which you may see that the essence is no thing at all, but is a continuous stream of action, not separate from others’.

              As Quintin said to Fiona, some individuals do differently when they create and shape their sands.
              In analogy with the coloured sands, some people like Quintin enjoy using other people’s colours in shaping his own characters, while some others prefer to keep their own colours, to create a more definite sense of individuality. But they integrate the others’ movements and shapes nonetheless, regardless of how much they perceive it to be coming from them.

              With that said, let us see how much more will appear from that sandbox…

              September 30 th

              The Wrick family tree as it is now (or “will be” drawn around the time of the twins in 2057).

              The Secret Life of Margaret Wrick , a newspaper cut from 2033.

              October 7 th

              The dragon Naasir’s dream
              A panorama illustrating the portals between the worlds created by each of the participants… But who is dreaming, really?

              And an illustration of Chiara’s encounter with the glutton “dreggun” Buckberry

              #79
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                These are excerpts from Yuki’s diary, explaining some of the details of the experiment called — Malvina’s story —.

                Note: for the reader not familiar with all the names here is a quick reminder:

                • Araili > Yann, Írtak, Sam, Jacob …
                • Armelle > Fiona, Arona, Tina, Qixi …
                • Rafaela > Dory, Illi, Becky, Rodney …
                • Yuki > Quintin, Al, Janice …

                September 12 th, 2007

                Today, an experiment has been launched by Quintin. Time will tell if it will bear some fruit, but the idea sounds good.
                Having people join in a story telling, and see what happens, what are the “lessons” one can draw from this…

                Armelle, Rafaela and Araili are already on the starting-blocks, though Quintin is not quite aware yet.

                I can hear some thoughts: Let’s say for the moment that there are no rules. We will see what prompts the desire for having rules…

                September 13 th

                Some of the people familiar with Janice and her friends’ adventures have already joined in with much enthusiasm.
                This first comment seems very promising.

                Right now, it feels easy and fun.

                Quintin seems to think that everything is very straightforward.
                The magical world with the cave in one part, separated from the “real” world. (Two Worlds, and he thinks that will be enough to content Rafaela, ahaha, how presumptuous)
                The first he sees as a representation of what psychologists think of as “subconscious”, and the other being the conscious, physical part.

                But of course, he thinks he knows better than that. He calls the first one “subjective” rather than subconscious, because it’s a translation of subjects which unfold in many related objects in the “objective” or physical world.
                That’s a good point, though a bit distorted. It would be better to say Malvina’s World is a translation of the subjective, in the manner of a Heroic Dimension.
                But the thing is, that he missed the point in thinking one World is more “real” than the other.
                We’ll be having some fun soon…

                First remark… The second comment of the story has been interrupted abruptly in the middle of a sentence. That is interesting. We will urge Quintin to leave it as it is, despite his feeling of it being awkward.
                We will appeal to his imagination.
                It seems he has heard the suggestion.

                September 14 th

                For the most part, the story starts to get much involvement. Lots of energies are being projected into it, and with every adjunct, each participant’s perception stretches to accommodate the changes and smooth out the bumps in their own sense of continuity.

                But as I expected, some challenges seem to appear already.
                Is it raining or not in that world?
                The question seems simple, but it is very profound and Fiona seems to struggle a bit with it, as is Quintin. The question frame itself [“that World”] shows where the difficulty lies.

                He seems to avoid the discrepancy and pretend that he has not seen it. Mmmm, avoiding the obstacles… that will very soon come right back in front of you dear Quintin, for Dory is quite playful.
                At least Fiona has been challenging Dory for not paying attention… Armelle’s ineffable loving ruthlessness!
                How will it unfold?
                Rafaela seems to be delighting herself as though she’s preparing some mischief, but Dory struggles in the “back”…

                September 15 th

                Dory is indeed very playful and her imagination is unrestrained. I extend much appreciation to this focus of Rafaela, especially as Quintin has to stretch his imagination to make things “fit”.

                Quintin is still avoiding the issues that appear sporadically and prefers to stay focused on his own perception of the story… Careful Quintin :face-smile:

                Yann joins the fun —objectively, that is, for Araili has been present already since the very beginning.

                September 16 th

                Halcyons days…
                My dear friend Archie is answering some of Quintin and Yann’s questions.
                Something starts to dawn on Quintin. But his mind is on other matters.

                He understands that the energies of the writers are melding in writing the story, but he still tends to think that they blend completely.

                September 18 th

                Quintin has been drawing some of the characters of the story. It’s interesting.
                He had good insights, as Yann will tell him later that his clothes today were exactly the same as the colours he had drawn.

                Characters drawn:

                • Mavina, Leörmn the dragon and weaszchilla, Írtak, Huÿgens (and Fjutch), Arona and Illi (the gripshawk)
                • Malika, Quintin, Yann, Fiona and Dory

                Interestingly, Fiona resolves her issues in her cave.
                Dory too, but she did not need the cave to do this.

                September 21 st

                For Quintin, the story seems to lose all common sense, as some characters move from World to World. You could have expected that Quintin!
                And Dory pops in and out, in her mind, in her dream state, or in future timeline mixed with present or past one.
                Quintin will soon realize that he himself is doing this constantly, though he does not register it.

                But the worst thing for him is that there are bleedthroughs in between Worlds. The Reality Times newspaper was brilliant Rafaela, a perfect trigger for the beliefs that the Worlds are closed and impermeable to each other!

                Archie has been answering new questions about that story and this had been quite interesting for all of the participants.
                There is much for them to digest from the realization that each of them had been creating their own versions of the stories through their perceptions. And that they were each having their version of the story, drawing from each other’s input, like a conductor of an orchestra incorporating some instruments.

                Of course, some things still matter, and one of the point of the story is also to discover these.

                September 22 nd

                Quintin has been drawing new characters.

                Characters drawn:

                • Båd Al’Guz (Bådul), BelleDora, Buckberry the dragon, the twin dragon eggs, Archibald the parrot, Sanso the Wanderer
                • Illi Fergusson, another Illi that Quintin has tried to sneak in as a bait for Dory, with hints that she is disengaged (or “dead” in common vernacular) and merges with others of her focuses…
                • Jacqueline Bleomelen (Nanny Gibbon), Lord Wrick, his great grand children the twins Cuthbert and India Louise, Manfred, William P. Jobsworth the painter

                A new perception trick: Dory felt relieved upon seeing the moth feelers of BelleDora.
                She had at first thought they were whiskers, which was not Quintin’s intent…

                September 23 rd

                Quintin seems to have connected to a map drawn by Lord Wrick, when the old Lord has started to document his great grand children travels.

                Quintin had tried to put some annotations on this fragment, but he doesn’t yet completely understand that his perception of this World, though accurate, is only valid in this present moment, and may change at any time.

                Up to now, here are the names he could find:

                • North: the Icy Lands, and Dragon Cemeteries
                • Center: Goldfindely, homeland of Arona, connected to the Warring Kingdoms of Lan’ork by the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer. The Isthmus of the Dragon Head seems to lead to Malvina’s cave and hideout. Mount Elok’ram is pointed as the highest place of the World yet discovered. Three main rivers are drawn: in the ancient myths of the people of this land, they represent the three Daughters of Ghört, weavers of men’s destinies: Tibreÿa, Uleÿa, and Snimeÿa. Snimeÿa cuts the thread of life, which is shown as the river leads after many meanders to the Marshes of Doom.
                • Far East, North: the Land of Båd Al’Guz, Åsgurdy. A harsh mountainous land of islands and seas.
                  Both parts of the World seem to ignore each other till now, as they are separated by the Great Rift, which in the past has deterred many intrepid navigators.
                • South: the Desert Lands. Illi’s birthplace, rarely explored by humans thus unaware of most of its marvels, gripshawks nomadic tribes included.

                When he discussed Arona’s village with Fiona, Quintin had the vision of some dolphin-like creatures, but bright yellow. They are called golfindels and are mostly seen on the northern shores of Arona’s homeland, which is thus called Golfindely.

                #273

                On the shores of Golfindely, a young boy was playing in the carmine fields of ripe Scotch bonnets.

                Since the captain Bone had left, Tomkin Sharple was feeling a bit sad.

                The old captain always had fascinating stories to tell him, and he would indulge the endlessly curious little boy in telling him for hours all about what he had discovered in all the parts of the Worlds he had been traveling to.

                Now, all he had to do was to take care of the herd of grakes of his parents, and while they were eating the weeds of the crops, he would sat on the cliff, looking at the sea, glimmering in the sunlight.

                Grakes were funny to play with, as they were big birds, with a slender neck as geese, colourful patterns as mandarin ducks, and Tomkin always had fun jumping on the back of the alpha one, and ride it, leading the whole herd to the crops where they helped the farmers by eating all kinds of nuisances.

                But after Captain Bone’s departure, it was no longer fun.

                Tomkin was contemplating a strange thing that the captain had given him before he’d left. It was a sort of knot, shaped as a eight, and the captain had told him it was magic and meant that all was connected, but that he had to discover that magic for himself.

                Tomkin had asked the captain to tell him about this object, but all he had told him was a legend which did not reveal much about the circumstances in which the old sea dog had acquired it. Perhaps the captain had fooled him about the magic…

                Stuffing the thing again in his pocket, Tomkin let his mind wander on the sea waves, dreaming of being a cabin boy on a big boat, when he saw something on the horizon.

                At first he thought that it was a group of swimming golfindels, but golfindels were more brilliant and smaller than the shapes he was seeing, and moving less heavily too…

                #270

                Oörlaith heard the sound of a barking dog not far from her rookery. They were back with his master, and she knew at once their mission was complete.

                A few months ago she had met a strange man, he told her he was called Leonard, and the funny black dog that was following him everywhere was called Moufle. An ancient word for mitten… Well she didn’t ask why he’d call him like that, the dog was so hairy…

                Leonard was a lonely traveller, quite ancient as she could feel, but she wasn’t able to know his actual age. And there were some other weird feelings when she was focusing on his energy tone, something to do with time itself.

                When she first met him she knew he was the one she was looking for for ages. It’s been such a long time she hadn’t heard from her sisters. Oörlaith’d been having these dreams since they chose different direction many years ago, Malvina and Roselÿn, her precious ones. It wasn’t necessary for her then to keep objective contact with them through the glubolín.

                One year ago, the dreams stopped abruptly, and she tried several methods to reach her sisters. None of them with success. All her attempts failed, and she thought first she had lost her own power, but she knew one can not loose power of self, just forget it or create it on purpose. She realized then it was time to recreate these links more objectively.

                She couldn’t find her glubolín though. And Leonard arrived. Fortunately enough he had news from some strange events occurring in the land where she knew Malvina had settled her rookery. Was she still here with Leörmn?

                ***

                Yann had been feeling many impulses to draw scenes from his dreams and from the story they were creating with Quintin, Fiona, and Truth. It was an urge from inside and last night he had a very intense dream activity, most of which he couldn’t remember, it was more like a big forum with many different personalities all exchanging experiences and exploring new avenues.

                He was also attracted by old stories he was writing when he was a student, the one involving Georges and Salome, it seemed to him they had taken a life of their own now, and they felt very powerful, and most of all, they felt like really having fun.

                One of the drawing that was intriguing him was one that represented a sign of sort, in grayish sparkly clouds. He had given the pic a strange title, Oorlath. Yann had connected the name to an individual and was surprised when Quintin told him about a princess named Oörlaith. He was wondering who she was…

                She still had no face when he thought of her… maybe she was hidden for the moment… and he had the strangest thought that she knew Leonard, the man he’d been drawing with his black hairy dog.

                Haha, he had felt her smile.

                ***

                Chiara was looking for the boy she’d met last time in her dreams. Maybe he could give her some berries again, they were really tasty and fluberrish.

                But she’s been looking for him for so long she wonder if she could find the way again…

                Where she was now felt different. The light? The air? She took a deep breathe and just sat down on the grassy land. She had a quick thought that the land were more rocky than grassy a few seconds ago, but as she was feeling the grass under her hands, she dismissed the thought.

                She was hearing birds singing, it was quite funny the way they were bounding from one sound to the other and she could understand what they were saying, much gossips and a few compliments for a new mother ;)) nothing really important to her. She Jibbled.

                Lying down on the mossy land, she was looking… mossy? wasn’t it grassy? Now it’s mossy… hope that wouldn’t become mothy ;))

                She was looking the clouds, some were grayishly sparkling, she was enjoying it…

                “Are you looking for something” a voice said.

                Chiara quickly sat up and gazed at the fat lady who was standing before her.

                “Hahahaha, you found me at least my dear” laughed the woman.

                “My name is Roselÿn, and you are Chiara, aren’t you?”

                The little girl was gaping at Roselÿn… how could she possibly know her name?

                “I feel I know you :yahoo_thinking:” she said dreamily.

                “You make me feel like when I’m with my uncle Yann, and… there’s something else… oh!?”

                #262
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Fiona woke suddenly from a dream. In her dream she had been communicating with her online friends, through drawings and messages. She had been trying so hard to convey something, and the more she tried to say it, the more distant they felt to her.

                  She had woken feeling saddened. Her energy was greatly disturbed, and, unable to get back to sleep straight away, she meditated. She felt herself connect with the energy of a Snowy Owl, who invited her wordlessly to ask her questions. The Owl’s eyes seemed to have such a depth of wisdom and kindness, and no sooner had her thoughts begun to ask their questions, than she would feel the Owl’s answer merge with her own knowing.

                  She felt herself being able to say without words what she had tried so hard in her dream to convey, and understanding there was no need for any effort, she felt greatly comforted, and peaceful sleep swept over her again.

                  #261

                  In searching for a sheet of paper to do some sketches of images going through his mind, Bill found an old poem he had started a long time ago, when he was feeling like he was completely transforming himself. He had not finished the poem, but had kept it all along…

                  It said:

                  I’ve been wandering through the valleys of death
                  Where time knows no ending and all is gray
                  And shadows seek nothing but oblivion itself
                  In mazes of mist, minds’ errands led astray…

                  Perhaps it was time to let go of useless things, Bill thought to himself.

                  He watched the paper slowly smoldering and shrinking and falling to black and white cinders into the hearth.

                  :fleuron:

                  Before going to sleep that night, Quintin had the sensation of Janice’s presence. He was surprised, because she was no longer the little girl he had seen at times, but she was a very pretty young woman, with dark wavy hair.

                  She had giggled at his surprise, telling him that yes, she was catching up with him…

                  :fleuron:

                  The City, year 2255 (%)

                  Today was Janice’s birthday, but not her birthday as the Ancients, two and half a century from her time, would have counted it. It was counted from the time of the conception, as the future parents in this time were fully aware of the agreements they would have with the soul they would decide to give birth to.

                  It was a reminder of this agreement between the parents and the child that was celebrated, and not the actual birth date.

                  Janice had felt Cyprus’ presence quite strongly, and she decided to let herself open to the subjective communication. She was conversing with her friend Qixi, and sent her some energy to let her know she would probably remove her attention for a few moments, knowing she would be accepting.

                  When she closed her eyes, she could immediately feel herself engulfed by the strong yet smooth energy of Cyprus; it was like being kissed by a swarm of blue sparkling butterflies.

                  Then she opened her eyes.

                  She was in an ancient classroom, with Cyprus focused as a teacher figure. Cyprus was seated behind her desk and came at once to great Janice.

                  — Good morning!
                  — Good morning Cyprus, you wanted to say something to me?
                  — In actuality, you wanted me to tell you something, answered Cyprus with a mysterious smile.
                  — Yes, I thought so. Is it about what I am choosing to do as an activity?
                  — Correct.
                  — You are aware that I want to be creating of worlds, and give them to people that would have commissioned them…
                  — Yes, I am aware. And you wanted me to highlight some misconceptions about that.
                  — Oh, misconceptions?
                  — Yes. As you know, with these worlds that you create, you have infinite potential of explorations. You also know that they are not independent from the rest, even when you take great care of encapsulating them in an energy field. And as such, they are not cut-off from yourself, as soon as you deliver them.
                  — It feels like a tremendous responsibility.
                  — It is, and it is not. The responsibility is to yourself, as always. But, I wanted you to be aware that you hold some responsibility, to examine your own injections into these worlds that you create, so that you can be neutralizing what is not desired, and not merely hiding it deeper inside the world itself.
                  — OK, I will do that…
                  — Ahaha, there is another thing, my dear.
                  — Oooh…
                  — You also wanted me to make sure you understood what I meant.
                  — Ahahaha, I see. Wiggling out won’t be as easy as I thought, Janice said with a smile. So, is it the reason for this classroom?
                  — Nothing is hidden from you, as always.

                  So Janice took a look at the sheet of paper on top of her own school desk.

                  — I’ll be around if you need me, reassured Cyprus.
                  — Thank you, said Janice

                  The paper was like a spot test, with a few questions on it.

                  :fleuron2:

                  Study on a Few Contradictory Beliefs

                  1. GUILT

                  a. An old lord has lost contact with his son, because of harsh things said in the past.

                  Write a short story about him realizing how guilt is not effective, and how past can be changed from the point of present by direct action.

                  b. Detail the main beliefs you can see associated with this action of guilt.

                  2. FEAR

                  a. A man chooses to be disengaging by drowning in a river. During his transition, he faces his fears, helped in that by a friendly spirit. The fears take the forms of a forest of trees, all similar, with branches and malicious roots extending to him. In his previous life, the man thought he was a fool, as an excuse to stand out of the numb crowd. But now he faces this crowd again, only to be able to go on his journey and let go.

                  Write a short paragraph about his journey. Place yourself from the perspective of both him and the friendly spirit guiding him through his fears, and see how he helps himself in realizing he does not need to push the fears away, and that they can disappear easily.

                  b. Detail the beliefs associated with his madness, that he needs to let go of in order to be crossing the forest, and go to the Bridge of Daffoldils that leads to his cave of Self.

                  DUPLICITY

                  In association with the last two examples, detail how duplicity (belief in good versus bad) is influencing of each of the actions, and can be neutralised by accepting self and trusting that you shall not betray yourself.

                  :fleuron:

                  Janice gave her paper to Cyprus, who took it and held it for a moment, evaluating the answers.

                  Cyprus then made it burst into a bluish dancing flame, and when the paper had disappeared, smiled at Janice lovingly.

                  #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

                    #259

                    Jadra slept fitfully. He was in the forest and he dreamed of a great tidal wave sweeping over him. He was holding on for dear life to the branches of a tree while angry faces swept by him in the water, shouting abuse at him, although he could not make out the words.

                    “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” he shouted back.

                    But then, to his horror he saw his left hand separate from his arm and he could no longer hold on. He saw his hand being swept out to sea and all that mattered was that he find it again. He let to of the safety of the tree and felt himself being pulled by the waves.

                    Jadra awoke trembling and shaking in terror. He looked for his left hand on the end of his arm, where it should be, but he could not see it. He knew what had happened. He had thrown his hand in the river. He thought it was sticks and stones he had thrown in, but he had been mistaken. He knew that now. He had to go and find his hand in the river.

                    Jadra felt such anguish. Not so clever Jadra Iamaman. You stupid old Fool

                    Forgive me! he shouted to the Gods. Whimpering in pain he rushed back the way he had come, back through the forest to the spot where he had last seen his hand. He threw himself into the water and dived down deep, not caring he could not swim, only knowing his hand was in there somewhere.

                    ***

                    There were very few people around that early in the morning, but a small boy saw Jadra go in the water and stood watching. He waited and waited, and when he knew for sure there was something wrong he raised the alarm.

                    ***

                    Jadra felt a great peacefulness sweep over him. He stopped fighting and abandoned himself to the mighty current of the water. A unicorn swam by him in the water and whispered to him she would take him to safely home.

                    ***

                    They pulled Jadra’s body from the water a mile down river.

                    #257

                    When Cuthbert came back to bed after having had his cup of cocoa, India Louise was awake too.

                    — I saw him too, she said to her brother.
                    — I don’t want to see him again, these books are scarey.
                    — It’s intriguing, I want to know more, India Louise said, egging on him.
                    — When I close my eyes, I got all these roots and webs crawling, it’s mad… I can’t…
                    — He has found a friend to help him cross the Dark Forest to the traveling portal.
                    — A friend?
                    — Yes, a friend. She’s special.
                    — Tell me more…
                    — She’s a white unicorn, only him can see her.
                    — Wow…
                    — She’s named Mirÿnda. She’s glowing white, and he hears her speak in his mind, she shows him the way through the forest…

                    :fleuron:

                    — Mirÿnda?! A fool in saffron robe gallivanting in the forest with a unicorn now? That’s all you could find?

                    Tina was taken aback…

                    — Well, I could have used a grizzly bear too, now I think of it… Al answered flippantly.
                    — Tsk tsk, replied Tina a bit annoyed. And why not a humpback whale, or an arctic lemming, or even… why, a leopard gecko for that matter?… And who’s that Mÿrinda anyway?

                    :fleuron:

                    — I don’t know any Amanda, Fiona said to Quintin that night. Don’t really know many of Michaela & Elias’ students. She’s Yann friend, right?

                    Quintin had answered distractedly, as he was engrossed by his last painting…

                    Later that night, he couldn’t find sleep, as the dragon he was painting was still expanding his web of roots and branches in his mind’s eye. He opened his computer to see that Malika was online.

                    She told him something that night, something Quintin found abysmally profound and perplexing about his dragon…

                    Dragons can shape shift, into anything they want to. There are several doorways/portals that they use for travel into this dimension. Malika said
                    — Yes, said Quintin, this drawing has something to do with these portals initially, but I struggle a bit to represent them…
                    Yes, so you can just depict it to be flowing, liquid-like energy in the center, when the portal is active.
                    There are some that are being shone to me on the bottom of the ocean floor.
                    What is being shown to me, is a dragon with a tail much like a mermaid, and hands with webs, big yellow eyes…

                    Wow he had thought, she can really see.

                    :fleuron:

                    Jadra, guided by Mirÿnda, had been moving quite easily through the Dark Forest. Of course, he wouldn’t have dared touch the holy creature, and so he was walking hesitantly behind, taking care of where his bare feet were touching the ground.

                    The Dark Forest was bordering the Marshes of Doom, and at times the limits between the two were almost indiscernible. It was said that every foul, err… fool… damn,…

                    — Will you stop being so buffoonish! raved Tina again.
                    — Perhaps I should let someone else continue then? said Albert.
                    — Well, that’s entertaining, replied Becky mechanically.
                    — OK. I’ll jump in, said Samuel, with a wide grin.

                    It was said that every full moon, the Mighty Shrimp would come from the shores of the Southern Seas and haunt the Marshes in search for souls to be turned into krill, so that he could be the WALRUS (Wrathful Almighty Lord Ruler of Undersea Souls).

                    Well, at least, that’s what Jadra had heard in his youth, when you tend to believe everything… So he was weary of the hiki-hiki sounds in the night that might have been the dreaded call of the Mighty Shrimp.

                    :fleuron:

                    Quintin was having a strange dream. He was a huge whale, along with another one he knew was Yann, swimming powerfully in the vast ocean, passing by strange creatures that could have been mermaids or improbable fishes, when his gaze was attracted by a stream of glittering particles of light.

                    The lights were enticing, he would have said even “mouth-watering”, had he not had the baleens full of water already…

                    :fleuron:

                    Salome was moving through layers of consciousness, something humans focused in physical dimensions would have found difficult to grasp, as it was nothing that could be easily conceptualized. She was, as best as she could put, like a huge cloud of lightness coalescing into a form, when she decided to project her aspect.

                    Taking form into a dimension required no effort in actuality, the consensus reality created by all the essences focused into the reality making quite a strong pull. She only needed to move her attention to what she wanted to manifest. Altering her reality slowly around her, to move closer to the desired effect.

                    She was not only traveling through time and space, but also through multitudinous layers of dimensions unnoticed to many humans —in fact, she was not really moving, but that was a convenient way of telling things for humans…

                    She said “humans”, because she was fond of this particular dimension, where she’d had lots of experiences.

                    When moving through the dimensions, it had her projected focus of attention constantly and naturally adapt its form to the psychological environment.

                    Here, she had just moved through a honey-drops dimension, where focuses were drops of golden honey-like substance, and as she moved through it, her own aspect had changed to that of a sand-glass shaped drop of honey.

                    This was great fun for her to see the ease with which she could focus into this infinite variety of adventures, but for now, her pull was to some more complex physical dimensions.

                    She started to move again, de-focusing, past the lazy honey drops.

                    The honey drops were now shape-shifting to a whole immense field of snake-like strings of light, and they all started to converge to a direction. She knew the feeling. She followed the strong pull.

                    #250

                    The boy was approaching in a manner he obviously wanted to be threatening, but the little girl was still giggling unafraid.

                    He took his most growling voice.

                    “Don’t you fear DRRRAAAGONSS?” he blew in her face.

                    “Hahaha. What’s Dregguns?” she said with difficulties as if it was her first attempt in pronouncing the thunderous name.

                    He took a deep breath as if to answer the question and stopped.

                    She was looking at him with such innocence and friendship in her eyes.

                    “You really don’t know what dragons are?”

                    He drew closer and his gaze changed. And he looked surprised as if he was eventually noticing something important.

                    “Oh hoho! I understand now why you seem such an unafraid little girl…”

                    “I’m not little, I’m five.” she said grumpily. But she laughed as readily after that :))

                    “It appears I’m in the middle of one of your dreams. What’s your name?”

                    “I’m Chiara.”

                    #249
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      Fiona was feeling a bit weird.

                      She was wondering what was real. Was she real? Wow I am starting to sound like Dory she said and then laughed

                      Oh my goodness and now I am laughing out loud and talking to myself. Jarrod does that and they put him on medication for it.

                      And were her online friends real? I mean what evidence did she have. There were these pebbles of course Yarn said he was sending, but where were they?

                      The other day she had been talking to her friends via the internet, and she found herself telling this ridiculous bird story, which basically boiled down to “I saw a bird and a cracked egg shell”

                      AHAHAHAHAHA

                      Ooops better stop laughing out loud so much. But at the time of seeing the bird it had felt really significant, as though something of importance was being communicated to her.

                      And the online story they had all been writing — well was it all of them, or was it really just her writing it? — whatever, it was getting weirder and weirder and quite rude at times too actually. Or was it??? Was that her imagination again?

                      And lately she kept winking. Good grief, I never wink, what is all that about? What the does a wink mean anyway?

                      Fiona patted her dog George. He was so funny and uncomplicated. All he wanted to do was eat and play and have as much fun as possible… so cool. Actually that is all I want really too, she decided, and felt much better.

                      #246

                      Huÿgens was not much of a cat person.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                      And off she was… free and unfettered as a gripshawk

                      ***

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

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

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

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

                    Viewing 20 results - 1,341 through 1,360 (of 1,399 total)