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  • #414

    Mmmm, Captain,… isn’t that legend a bit long-winded? Tomkin had asked to Captain Bone.

    It had been six nights now that the Captain had told bits of that legend to Tomkin, and even if it was entertaining, Tomkin was more and more impatient to get back to meatier stuff, like galleons full of ancient magical treasures, corsairs from the Warring Kingdoms coasts, strange unknown races from far-off lands… that would be more mouth-watering than this endless legend…

    Captain Bone had laughed.

    — Aaaaah, Tomkin… of course you know I like to tell long stories, and make them longer each time I recall them, but you see, there is also a point in all of that adventure. Mævel’s story is also the story of all of us in a way. Of course, I could tell you how it ends, but in a way it never really ends. More important is for you to see it unfold and that you appreciate the unfolding. The ending is not important in a way. Each and every time this story is recalled, it is different, because it adapts to what is happening right now. Do you see?
    — So what is the point of telling me that story? It was supposed to tell me something about this strange knotted object, but I don’t see any link.
    — Ahahahaha, the point is precisely that Tomkin. I am telling you my story, but this object makes you hear your own story through my words.

    Now, Tomkin Sharple was squatting on the sand near the bonfire lit by Badul’s crew, and he was recalling the words from the Captain. At that time, when he didn’t know a thing about that strange magical object, he had not understood a thing of what the Captain had said.
    But now, it started to make sense, some sense at least. Each time the Captain had told him bits of the legend, Tomkin had been fidgeting the strange object, making the Captain smile. Perhaps the object’s magic was not only acting as a translation device…
    There was something more about it. He was no longer sure that the Captain’s story had been what he was recalling. Perhaps it was completely different, and he had translated it…
    Still, the object had apparently helped him understand what Badul and his men wanted, so it was translating truthfully. But what was a faithful translation?

    Then, a flash came into Tomkin’s mind. The Captain had given the object to him. He’d said it was about connections. Being connected.
    Till then, Tomkin had been the only one to touch it. He had not even revealed the source of his gift to Badul.
    But in the Captain’s case, both of them had been touching it. In sharing that link, they had extended trust to each other, and somehow, they had been mirrors for each other. Perhaps that was what Captain Bone meant when he said that Tomkin was hearing his own story through the Captain’s words.

    Tomkin laid down on the warm sand, looking at the clear starry night.

    ***

    — The legend of Mævel — (Part VI)

    Inside the warm burrow, Mævel found a bed of dry leaves and tender moss. She could see some light from the moon, coming through holes in the ground, which were bringing in some fresh air too. Cuddling comfortably into the makeshift bed, she started to sleep peacefully, waiting for her friend the blue fox to come back.

    ***

    Half-asleep on the beach, Tomkin was wondering… What had happened the next morning… This was fuzzy in this memory, as if the events were moving and reorganising themselves. All that he remember was that Mævel had met the blue fox, but there were myriads of possible events, and all of them were possible, dancing now in front of him.
    He could chose any of them… But, would that make the story the same?
    Then he recalled that it was his own story… So why make it difficult then…

    The voice of Captain Bone was resounding in his ear “You find value in hardships, and value is important to you and our kind. In these lands full of magic, we could just do anything, but somehow you’ll find that rare are the people who constantly use magic. Because when magic is used to make things happen instantaneously, it shifts everything around it to accommodate the changes asked by the summoner of the magic. And it can be overwhelming when too big are the differences between the too states, as we are accustomed to live within a continuity. That’s why I tell you to enjoy the ride of that legend.
    Think of it… You could be Emperor of all Lands if you knew how to use magic for such a feat. But would you do that instantaneously? Slim chances. You wouldn’t know how to behave as an Emperor, and on top of that, you probably would find the new aspect of you who is an Emperor to be overwhelming to your present aspect of little Tomkin.”

    Okay, Tomkin said… No need to skip directly to the last part… she meets the blue fox in his den, and Mævel learns about the curse of the fox.

    ***

    — Oh, really? Mævel was saying
    — Yes, I was a bit of a fool… the blue fox was telling her. But, the silver lining is that there is a way to counteract the curse. But I will need your help again, if you want.
    — I want to help you.
    — Fine. You know about Shaint Lejüs Festival?
    — Mmm, yes, my parents told me about that. It’s the Day of the Forgotten, isn’t it?
    — and of the Accursed Ones.
    — Oh…
    — That special day of the year, the Gates of Lejüs’ Realm are opened and Forgotten and Accursed Ones are given a chance to be Remembered or Graced.
    — Every year? Why then aren’t all of them Remembered?
    — Mostly because the Living Ones dread this day. They are the only ones to be able to free the Demanders, and they quickly felt haunted by the Demanders. So they did rituals to keep the Demanders away from them, as certainly your human parents did.
    — Yes, I remember now…
    — There is another reason actually. Forgotten Ones can only be Remembered when they recover their true name, and only a strong bond like love or some potent magic can force it out of Lejüs’ graps.
    — And Accursed Ones?
    — For them to be Graced, they need to do one pure act of altruism.
    — A simple act?
    — Don’t be fooled, it’s not as simple as it seems. See, I tried to rescue a woman who was drowning herself into the river, but that hunter thought I was attacking her… The fact was that she was willing to be Forgotten, and that my act was not purely altruistic.
    — How so? You probably saved her life?
    — Yes, but that was not what she wanted, and when she cried that I let go of her, I only wanted her out of the waters, because of me…
    — I understand. And how can I help?
    — One altruistic act for me would be to help a Forgotten One to be Remembered. That’s what they ask for, but it’s difficult for them to get past the barriers of the Living Ones.
    Shaint Lejüs Festival is tomorrow…
    — Yes, have as much rest as you need, Mæ. We will see tomorrow what will occur…

    #1556

    In reply to: Synchronicity

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      A couple of weeks ago at Rachel’s at Salitre I met a Polish man called Marco (marco polo LOL ). Well, yesterday at Salitre someone was telling me a bit about Marco. He was a salior, and had spent some time in Madagascar. He acquired a lemur which became his good friend, and he continued his travels by boat with the lemur, until eventually he met a lady he wanted to marry in Poland and she said ‘Either the lemur or me’.

      Marco sold the lemur to a zoo in Poland, for a phenomenal sum of money, so the story goes, because apparently lemurs don’t travel well and need to sail slowly to the new destination in order to acclimatize…so I was told

      Marco divorced the lady and said that, in retrospect, he was sorry he didn’t choose the lemur.

      #403

      November, 1 st 2057

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

      Sean started to sob.

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

      ***

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

      ***

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

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

      #402

      — The legend of Mævel — (Part V)

      Mævel, opening her eyes, found herself in the middle of the forest. It was still dark and the sky was covered with a dark blue haze. Now, she had to find her friend the fox
      How could she do that, in such a wide forest, she started to whine.

      Well, why not start by asking… hooted a rowl nearby.

      Mævel was surprised. She had thought these hot pink speaking owls where found only in legends, not in woods nearby…

      You are in a legend, sweetie retorted the rowl.
      — Oh… Surely the legend of someone else then. Who’s legend it is, I am in, dear rowl?
      — Oh, you can call me Aromelle, sweetie. It’s your legend of course.
      — No kidding? Phew, what a responsibility… I shouldn’t tell you that, but you seem like a rowl I can confide in, err… I’m no hero, I’m not even educated, and I pass winds like any impolite woman or polite green ogress would do… And having everyone know that would be kind of embarrassing… What a legend that would be…
      — Then we’ll just say to the bards to skip that part… said wise Aromelle. Now, you wanted to ask something?
      — Oh yes, I have to find the blue fox.
      — And would you mind being a little more precise about that fox. I know thousands of blue foxes sweetie. Hoohoo, perhaps that’s an exaggeration, but I know quite a few, of others’ legends… You’re not the only legendary one coming into these woods to ask for advice.
      — Oh, I’m sorry, blushed Mævel
      — No need sweetie, snapped the rowl, in fact I know exactly who you are looking for… Wouldn’t that be Gulniforgf, the hunchback one-eyed cleft-lipped ogre cursed by Nærvel, the Goddess of the Waters? she said with an encouraging wink
      — Oh, by Ghört’s sake, no!
      — Hoohooo, no need to swear. Of course it isn’t, I knew that, sweetie. That must be Mifilthion, the toothless bald thousand-year-old troll cursed by Agnima, the Goddess of the Flames, you are looking for, hum? she said slyly
      — Oh, no, no, no… Mine is Blohmrik, he said he was a god…
      — Oh, but you know, everyone is a bit of god in a way, so that’s hardly…
      — He said he was cursed by Lejüs
      SHOOSHOOO, the rowl flapped her wings visibly distraught. That can’t be him! Poor thing… Aromelle added plaintively, you know in these matters of curses, you have to deal with the cursing one, and Shaint Lejüs is a tough one to deal with…
      — Oh, for a moment I was afraid that you’d say Blohmrik was a deaf varicosed warty dwarf… I don’t fear that Lejüs, said bravely Mævel… perhaps a bit hastily, she thought to herself
      — Oh, no, he’s a nice fine man, sweetie, you both would do such a perfect couple…
      — And where do I find him then, Mævel was getting a bit impatient with the winking hooting hoot
      — Well, that’s easy, you just happen to have appeared on top of his burrow.

      What a waste of time, was thinking Mævel… She couldn’t wait for much longer, and after all, the burrow could be a nice place to rest.

      With a quick thanks to Aromelle, she entered the tunnel in front of her.

      #401

      The Yellow Princess Chapter Book — Part I

      The singing birds awoke her. She was feeling numb for a few days and was wondering what was happening to her. Princess Atiara, often called the Yellow Princess was 20, a very important age among her people. She was the heir of Landgurdy, the richest of the 7 remaining Warring Kingdoms. Her father, the Yellow King Namiarad Tschãõ, had organised a birthday party for her. Inviting all the warring clans of Landgurdy and some of their allies among the other Warring Kingdoms.

      Though she couldn’t calm that waruki, or bad feeling… something was going to happen… and it was not something pleasant.

      #400

      Even with the help of the buntifluën, which translated the foreign expressions between the men of the Seas and him, young Tomkin had some difficulty to explain some concepts to the men.

      When the three boats had landed on the warm shores of Golfindely, Tomkin had been a little anxious about the ominous looking men, especially the giant one, with the big ugly baby face who seemed to be in command.
      But apparently, Tomkin had found a faithful friend in the black and white myna, and the ugly baby-faced giant had been interested by his unusual talent of being able to understand and communicate with them.

      I had been two weeks now that the men had arranged a settlement for themselves on these friendly shores, and Tomkin had been quickly adopted by the whole crew.
      He soon made friend with Jahiz, Austor and even the wild man in shackles —who had told his name unwillingly in energy, that the buntifluën had helped to translate. Tomkin was finding that the wild man, Cpt. Razkÿ, had been a greatly interesting adventurer and had known many places of the lands from where the men came. In fact, he reminded him of Captain Bone.
      The most difficult to deal with was the chief cook Renouane, who was complaining about the lack of some kind of unknown vegetable to do the meals. Jahiz had comforted Tomkin saying they were all fed up with “cabbage” anyway.

      The villagers around had become slowly aware of the presence of the foreigners on their lands, but they were relatively accustomed to seeing strange people, and upon seeing that these ones were friendly with Tomkin, they returned to their Scotch bonnets harvests, without much more of an afterthought.

      Tomkin had helped them to learn basic words of their language, words of greeting (“wallahu”), of thanks (“alami”) etc.
      But the ugly baby-faced giant (who had said he was “Badul”) was interested in many other things.
      And the concept Tomkin was now struggling with, to clearly explain it to Badul, was that of the traveling portals.

      Badul had somehow intuited that the strange shift in the environment they had met in the middle of the Rift, was something due to Unseen action. And when he had heard Tomkin speak about these methods for traveling easily, he had been interested in understanding more of them.
      Until now, it was a frustrating experience, as the young boy only knew such and such, probably told to him by some others, and not having actually experienced one himself.
      But the information was good to learn.

      Bringing back this technology to his land would probably be more interesting than some decorative glowing egg, he was thinking…

      #399

      Young Becky shouted to Dan, Dory’s coming back! She sent an email saying she arrives in Malaga tomorrow night!

      In actuality, Becky had already known that Dory would be coming back soon. Despite being only a child, she was what would later be known as a Shiftikid, and her telepathic prowess was already well-developed. Well, in point of fact, all children had been born with telepathic skills, all throughout the ages, but the customs of the times had eradicated these gifts usually before the children reached puberty.

      The young Becky had been in communication with ‘the dead guys’ as they were currently affectionately known, since before her birth. Thanks to all the links on Dory’s computer, Becky had quickly assessed that she herself was Sumari belonging, and Ilda aligned; of an intermediate orientation, and a political focus. She recalled from before her actual physical birth that she had chosen ‘Exploring Connections’ as her intent for this physical focus.

      Becky had purposefully chosen Dory as a step-mother, as her intention had been to grow up in an environment conducive to her explorations. Dory was also Ilda aligned, and her passion for anthropology, archeology and other cultures and times was naturally a great help to Becky and her favourite game of ‘Focus Hunting’.

      Becky started to make long lists of all the other focus connections she found, although she had a habit of forgetting where she had started a list, and often started a new list somewhere else. (Dan sometimes commented jokingly that it was almost as if Becky had inherited the ‘forgetful gene’ from her step-mother Dory…..Dan, like most people in those days, believed that genetic characteristics were ‘handed down’ from physical parents).

      Becky spent many happy hours playing the focus hunting game, and at times had some difficulty in separating the various other focuses from the current focus she was interacting with. This wasn’t a problem with Dory, or with some of her contemporaries, but often caused some misunderstanding with people who were unaware of their other focuses.

      Becky was delighted that Dory was coming home soon. She was looking forward to hearing about all of Dory’s adventures, and she wanted to share her own funny stories about the current ‘Perception Wave’ they were all experiencing.

      #1846
      Jib
      Participant

        The legend of The Weaving Princess

        Once upon a time, in the Warring Kingdom of Landgurdy, lived the Yellow Princess Atiara. She was living with her father, the Yellow King of Landgurdy in the Subtle Palace of Aram Ardun, the capital.

        The day of Her 20 th birthday was a very special day. As for any normal citizen of the Warring Kindgom, it was the day She fully became an adult. And furthermore, it was the day of Her wedding with the man to whom she was betrothed the day of her 12 th birthday, Prince Shomar At Gurna from the War Clan Gurna Drom.

        The Yellow King had organized a sumptuous banquet in the Palace, and although the people of Landgurdy was not invited in the Palace, many banquets had been set all around the country. Only the War Clanners of Landgurdy were to be admitted in Her presence in this most special day.

        At the very moment of the blessing by the Priest of Tatasi, the slaughter had already been perpetrated. The treacherous War Clanner Namad Gurdin had made an agreement with the Warring Kingdom of Cromash Tur. One of them had been replaced by the Assassin Varad Romash Karad Din, Master of this infamous Guild. Cromash Tur had sworn that very day would be the end of the Landgurdy. And it was. Many had tried to unfold the mystery of the sudden death of all the War Clanners and the Nobles present at that moment. The fact is that they were all found dead by the servants who were intrigued by the silence following the blessing… No wound, no trace of poison. The death of all these people remains a mystery.

        Though, two were missing. The Assassin, and the Yellow Princess.

        Cromash Tur’s army invaded the Landgurdy shortly after that… No resistance encountered, no more War Clanners to assure the safety of the land.

        Though Cromash Tur’s Warlord always denied having captured the Yellow Princess, she was supposed held captive in an unknown shadowy place of the Marshes of Doom.

        The Death Guards were keeping an eye on her, and every cloth, every dish, every book that was given to her was meticulously checked. Nothing was to bear the slightest trace of yellow. According to the legend, her family was famous with their use of this magic color, one of their most powerful talent was the control of the weather pattern, and the King of Cromash Tur feared strongly she would use her power to destroy his Kingdom if She could see a yellow dot.

        The Marshes of Doom were so grey and shadowy, she could never see any trace of yellow there.

        (to be continued)

        #395

        Sanso breathed a sigh of relief to find himself once again on his own. He’d found the flighty and changable Arona hard work, if truth be told, and was rather offended that she’d marched off with the baby Yikesy without even so much as a backwards glance at him. Sanso was a bit sad to see Yikesey leaving, (or Zacquer as he chose to think of him) but he knew he’d meet him again…somewhere, someplace, sometime…..

        He had to admit he was glad to see the back of that horrid cat, at any rate.

        Sanso didn’t really have a plan at that point, so he just started walking, walking along the cave tunnels, trusting that he would find another portal/cave entrance soon to another adventure.

        Such was his trust and superb state of allowing,that no sooner had he thought of finding a portal and a new adventure, as he rounded the very next corner, a blaze of sunshine streamed into the cave and a gust of hot desert wind.

        #393
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          ARONA MEETS THE NANNY

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

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

          Wooha!

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

          A miracle sent by God to save you? suggested Mandrake

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

          Steady on Arona, said Mandrake

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

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

          Buggered if I know, answered Arona

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          Well this is a fortuitous meeting indeed then!

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

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

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

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

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

          #392

          — The legend of Mævel — (Part IV)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          The voice smiled to her fondly.

          #391
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

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

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

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

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

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

            #388
            Jib
            Participant

              — Peeeeerrrry! Peerrrry!

              Yann was recalling Quintin’s mother… she was calling the cat playing in the garden, obviously more fascinated with the mice he was chasing than with the non-living food Scooter had just put on his plate…

              Scooter… he smiled at the affectionnate nickname he had given her. She was always going somewhere, doing something, never staying calm and quiet.

              The phone rang…

              #387
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Of course, as soon as they had stepped into the powerful magnetic field generated inside the T.R.A.P., the reality around them was transphormed as if they all had been into a huge deFørmiñG mirror, that they could shape with their strangest thoughts.

                Obviously, they had all started to hallucinate some funny stuff…

                It was happening so quick, Sam noticed. Sean’s breath was smelling of whiskey, and Sam felt Sean had forgotten something on his way to New York. He felt compelled to ask him if there was something on his mind…
                — Peregrine!
                — Who’s that?
                — Oh, he will be so disappointed… Sean started to sob. I’m such a bad father!

                Sean couldn’t find a composure. Hopefully, Becky wrapped her sensual arm around his shoulders, and hugged him tenderly.

                — Hey, look, she said, the children are more adept at these games than we are,… if we want, we can have him project here from his bedroom and share the fun with us. What do you reckon?

                And she started to yell:

                — Peeeeerrrry ! Peerrrry !

                #385
                Jib
                Participant

                  Yann was more quiet now… all these stuffs about his work was calming down and Quintin was coming soon living with him.
                  They were feeling something unfamiliar going on, but it wasn’t fully inserted yet in the physical.

                  Many things had changed.

                  Surfing on the internet, he saw a picture of a nine-tailed blue fox… he wondered what it was all about…

                  #383
                  Jib
                  Participant

                    Apparently Becky burst out when she saw Sean… poor Sean, Sam thought a moment… but he joined her in her laugh and he felt something very intimate happening between them.

                    Sean took Becky’s hand and she blushed, she was looking straight in his eyes.

                    Then Sam saw the most beautiful energy exchange, a loving energy shared between 2 soul mates… as he was a dispersed essence, Sam was feeling naturally the exchange as if he was part of it… he just kept his focus on himself not to disturb this expression of pure and intense love…

                    Sam felt that Tina and Al were also aware of what was happening.

                    :yahoo_rose: :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_rose: :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_rose: :yahoo_good_luck:

                    That was in energy… physically, Becky burst out laughing again, Sean was smiling.

                    — How about entering that new T.R.A.P. asked Tina? :face-kiss:

                    #380
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      When Al met the others, he was rather nonplussed by the profusion of capillar effects. Hairs colours were now a bit out of fashion, but he had to admit that Sam’s colours were radiant… Well, had it been for himself, he would have preferred something a tad bluer.

                      When Becky had made her appearance, he was really impressed. He found Becky had made a “bald” move that was suiting her dark complexion to a T.
                      (Becky was indeed sporting her African ancestry, coming from her mother Sabine Baina N’Diaye, with as much pride as her expensive boots).

                      As for himself, Al was not displeased that he had followed the good-hearted advice of sweet Tina about his hair loss. But, as he had discovered along with Hari Amgic, it all boiled down to the fact that was he was finding the tonsure rather elegantly distinguished, and giving him the looks of a wise old monk.
                      That had made Tina laugh of course, as she was finding him looking more like a monkey :(|) than anything else. Well, fine then, a Capuchin and that’ll make us agree on something at least, he had retorted a bit vexed.
                      The truth was that now, with the help of Hari, he was growing hair so fast that he had to shave them in the morning, and they would be knee-long and thick in the evening… But that was fun.
                      He was laughing now; he couldn’t have the monk look, but at least he had the sadhu look.

                      He said to Tina with a mischievous wink that he really loved her hot pink dress with the little white kitty cats patterns on it. Perfect Goldilocks look. :D

                      #1547

                      In reply to: Synchronicity

                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        Bald sync in NY, with the song from the Brit group Morcheeba I had in my mind yesterday What New York Couples Fight About & Skye (the singer)’s haircut :)

                        Once a label is on something
                        It becomes an “it”
                        Like it’s no longer alive

                        […]

                        If it’s up to you
                        My little sweet baboo
                        Through the shouting and the fever
                        Think of life as queer
                        Think of it my dear
                        And some knobs or a fancy tone
                        From here there is no reason
                        Baby’s got it made
                        But it’s not what the life’s about

                        What is imagination
                        May become a fact
                        If we think of it that way
                        If you want to know

                        ( )

                        #376
                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          Tina thought of a great gift for her friend Becky.

                          She purchased her a gift voucher for an hour’s consultation with Hari Amgic. Hari had helped Al considerably when he was facing similar hair loss issues. Mostly Hari worked on identifying core underlying beliefs, particularly in relation to hair follicles, which was his area of speciality. Also a bit of energy work was involved and advanced visualisation skill training, or something. Tina was hazy on the details. Al had explained it of course, at some length. The main thing was though, that his hair looked great now and Tina felt optimistic for Becky.

                          Let’s hope it grows back before Sean gets here thought Tina, chuckling merrily and shaking her fine head of thick glossy curls. It’s 2033, anything is possible!

                          Her advanced psychic skills told her something was up between Sean and Becky, although Becky had not said anything directly to her. Perhaps she was not aware herself yet.

                          She actually had found a message on her phone from Sean the other day, but it was so slurred that she could not make out what he was saying. Probably asking after Becky. How cute!

                          Dear Becky, about time she got herself another lover. She hoped Sean could cook though, not everyone enjoyed Becky’s rather creative, albeit nutritional, culinery offerings.

                          #370

                          — The legend of Mævel — (Part III)

                          When the blue fox had disappeared, deep into the woods, Mævel was left wondering if all of that had only been a dream. Perhaps it was just a dream, and something that would make her parents raise their shoulders in dismay.
                          Especially since she had lost their gift carelessly they would say, the little pearl white ribbon…

                          She picked up the clothes that were left hanging to dry up in the wind, and came back to the little house.

                          Of course, her father Jorg noticed that she was not wearing the ribbon, but he was not much of a question asker, and things were or were not, and analyzing them was unnecessary for him. But of course, Ilga noticed it too, and she felt sad for poor Jorg who had endured so many sacrifices to buy the little ribbon that Mævel was no longer wearing. She wanted an explanation! Was it no longer to Mævel’s tastes, had Mævel lost it?

                          So Mævel, who could not lie to anybody, told them her encounter with Blohmrik, the cursed god in the woods, in the shape of a wounded blue fox… and at each of her words, was seeing their faces more and more disconcerted.
                          Their poor girl, who was already so different, had completely lost it,… ribbon and all that was left of common sense in her.

                          So they locked her up in the bedroom, that she was now occupying alone, as all of her brothers and sisters had left. Just to save her from herself, and see if that would help her gain some more solid sense of reality.

                          Mævel understood her parents, but she was deeply contrite that they could not understand what she had lived. Mævel was still doubting the reality of her meeting the blue fox, so she asked for some sign from the Gods before going to sleep, to see clearly.

                          That night, Mævel dreamt of a dark-haired young man with a white diadem1 around his head, dressed in a cerulean blue tunic and wearing a sword. He was enshrouded in a warm light and as she took the hand he was extending, they were carried away by a springing scented wind into a meadow of multicoloured flowers, some of which she had not even known could exist. She had felt at home.
                          When she woke up, in the middle of the night, Mævel was transfixed by the beautiful soothing dream. She could not remember much more, but he had told her something. That there was deep magic in her, and it would help her find her true home, but that she would have to gain back her true name from the Elder God who had took it from her.

                          She quickly took her decision. She knew she had to search for the blue fox in the forest. But how could she escape the locked bedroom? She was starting to feel desperate again, but she remembered that there was some magic in her, and how she had felt it deeply true in her dream.
                          As she was focusing on the warm expanding feeling of her dream, an old rusty key materialized in her hand.

                          1 diadem: [ ˈdī-ə-ˌdem (dəm) ] from Greek diadēma, from diadein to bind around; akin to Sanskrit dāman rope — was originally a white ribbon, ending in a knot and two strips that were placed often on the shoulders, that surrounded the head of the king to denote his authority.

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