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  • #2155

    In reply to: The Story So Far

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Tikfijikoo Island (continued)

      (see this comment for previous part)

      Mahiliki comes crashing down the island (with the pilot) having Veranassessee dumbfounded and speechless.

      Rafaela leads Paquita and Jose through their dreams into acceptance of their facial conditions, and out of the island’s experiments through a secret passageway underground.
      As well, Anita leads her parents away from the island, through a tunnel, thanks to the intervention of her favourite team of “invisible” essence friends. She bids Akita goodbye as he’s drawn to the impromptu fiesta by Mavis and tells him he shall see his spirit dog again.

      Meanwhile, Sha and Glo discover some strange hairiness side-effects to their absorption of honeycomb.

      [Fast forward a few weeks later.]

      Apparently Dory and young Becky who were going to Tikfijikoo discover the island is placed under quarantine.
      All clues indicate the vortex activities, cyclones, and mad spider experiments have put the international security at risk.

      Veranassessee is reporting the situation at the local headquarters of the Confregation (likely to be fired), while Mahiliki and the pilot are under scrutiny to check their stories…

      We find the three divas, Sharon, Gloria and Mavis with a little more hair, but not less slickness, in a military hospital on nearby Antarctica. Akita was brought there too, in solitary confinement because he pretends to be a WWII soldier and to be guided by a speaking dog (which is all real of course, but you never know). They soon plan to escape.

      Madame Chesterhope, who was unwillingly rescued on the submarine of captain Pavel is placed in some sort of detention.
      Meanwhile, Claude has visibly gotten back to Jarvis who had managed to get the crystal skull amidst the island’s confusion. They now both are on the submarine, toasting on the success of the operation of crystal skull’s retrieval.

      Balbina, an old lady living in the future timeline in Venezuela (same timeline as Anita and her parents) is moved to her son’s home, nearby old caves were she expects Anita and her parents may soon resurface.

      #2030

      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Some selected bits from one tag cumulo-cloud:

        — “Matter (is) dimensional energies realized”
        — “Expect Hector (to) surface, Rafaela!”
        — “Leonora gets (to) keep saying ‘play attention!’”
        — “Close rain, friend magic, hope water seeing”
        — “Far within thinking, Arona sort days, (her) hold gives human comments great meaning”
        — “Soon blue seconds, call straight (at the) door, met surely physical; notice move (of) essence (in) fat huge dreams”
        — “Universe appear (in) book story”
        — “Malvina line although familiar answered busy funny heading”
        — “Tina looked love taking lots question indeed”
        — “Word usually working (in) short shifting pooh adventure”
        — “Seems Armelle starting soft reason; strange perhaps (in the) middle (of) rolling help (one may) spot dragons’ truth past spider times”
        — “‘Tell inside reality’: three words step (to) creating”
        — “Becky, allow yourself finding single beautiful playing light, dear”
        — “Cloud impulse shall house explain surprised black connection”
        — “Cool trust(ed) friends, portal plane”
        — “Aliens coincidence next talking”
        — “Walking arms seem flight silence; stone creature sound already entered field (of) aware(ness); scene trip apparently given reading”
        — “Beyond rolled Theresa, lately cave telling unusual morning”
        — “Wortex large, merely Glo

        #1153

        “Don’t you think time is ripe, Ratirat?” Angela asked, turning to her friend Seth, the brown furred mouse.
        “None of us are ever equipped, for general purposes, to perceive reality in all of its forms.” Seth started in a squeaky voice.

        “That’s interesting” nodded Angela, though she would have been in trouble had anyone asked her to explain what she just heard.

        Seth continued in his unnerving high-pitched voice “The pyramid gestalts can do this, and we help the pyramid gestalts perform this feat.”

        “I second that” said Freako the black and white ferret.
        “Bloody good point!” Weirdy, the damsel weasel managed to say among the growing cacophony.

        “Don’t be zilly… I don’t zink people outzide of this zoo are ready for us” snapped Joppy the baby pygmy hippo.

        “Zwines!” grumbled Angela, innocently mocking Jobby’s strange accent.

        #1150

        Dory was often reminding herself (and anyone within hearing or blogging distance in the process) of one of her favourite catch-phrases: what you are looking for is probably right under your nose.
        It seemed of particular relevance these days, Yurick was noticing, for a variety of reasons.

        First, his glasses needed some dusting… He’d have to finish that monologue later then.

        :fleuron:

        What was he about then? Yes. The tillandsias near the window. Last week-end, they’d been to a crystal store with Yann, and mildly interested by crystals, Yurick had been wondering loudly at the heaps of strange plants in the middle of the paraphernalia of rocks, shells and starfishes. The store owner had proceeded to explain those were aerial plants, known for gathering the elements of their sustenance out of the air.
        The curiosity would probably have ended with those quick answers, had the guy not not given them on an impulse two little specimens just when they were about to go with Yann’s newly acquired amethysts.
        :raw-crystal:

        Cute. New plants to interact with. Yurick had to say he preferred plants to rocks. Yann for his part had found them funny names. “Sha” for the witchy hairy one, and “Glo” for the pineapple-looking one. Why not…

        The tilland… Well, “Sha” and “Glo” (you had to give credit to Yann for granting the reader a good respite from long unpleasant names) had been there in the bathroom for a few days, and only now had Yurick found some interest in investigating more about them.
        The capacity they had to live apparently without any strings attached was very appealing to him, and it was like a symbol of focusing on one’s own vitality, and finding the means to live out of that elusive “new energy”; of not feeding off something outside of self.

        Now, he was finding even more interesting facts; a picture that Yann had taken of a blooming plant recently was of the same genus of plants, and it reminded Yurick of plants which had fascinated him in a botanical garden, that were also from this species.
        Interestingly, he found out that the plants were named after a Finnish botanist (Elias Tillandz )… He couldn’t help but notice the similarities with another focus of his: Elias Lönnrot.

        The string of clues suddenly filling up the previously empty corridors of his mind were sparkling a renewed interest for focus hunting.

        #1146

        “Oh My God” exclaimed Bea. “I had a dream about the DOOR!”

        “Oh, well done! The question is, did you remember it?” asked Leonora.

        “As a matter of fact, Leo, I did!” replied Bea with a happy smile. “As a matter of fact, although I’m not too sure how factual matter really is, but anyway, I did remember the dream, and I wrote it all down.”

        “Gosh, up early this morning, weren’t you?” asked Leo, who was sipping coffee at the kitchen table and watching the sun come up over the mountains through the open door.

        “Oh I didn’t write it down this morning, silly! I wrote it all down last week.”

        Leo placed her cup on the table and rubbed her eyes, frowning. “Wait a minute, let me get this straight…..”

        Bea laughed ~ she was in rather a jolly mood, despite the early hour. “I had the dream last week, Leo, but I only just realized this morning that the dream was about THE DOOR

        “So what did you learn about the door, then?”

        Bea frowned. “Well I’m not really sure. But it seemed so significant because it was that scary door, you know, the dreams I’ve been having for years about that door in that bedroom that’s too scary to get near, never mind go through….would you like to read it? Maybe you can interpret it for me.”

        “If I must” sighed Leonora “You better pour me another cup of coffee then and pass me those cigarettes.”

        Leonora read from Bea’s Dream Journal:

        I was sorting winter clothes out on an upstairs landing of a cottagey gabled house,
        and decided to use the upstairs bedroom instead of the downstairs one.
        The bedroom was a recurring dream one, gabled attic with dormer windows kind of room.
        Then I saw the door and remembered this was the door I was always too terrified
        in dreams to open; it was so scary that I always wanted to use this bedroom
        but never could because of that terrifying door and whatever lay beyond it.

        “Didn’t you do a waking dream and go through that door?” Leonora asked. “Oh, yes here is is…”

        Remembering that I had done a waking dream and gone beyond the door once,
        I marched up to the door, flung it open and strode through.
        Suddenly an almost overpowering fear and dread stopped me in my tracks
        but I carried on anyway.

        “Oh, bloody well done, Bea! Good for you, girl!” Leonora could be a bit waspish at times, but she was a kind old soul underneath.

         It was a bit like a old slightly shabby but once grand hotel foyer, high ceilings
        (not the same as when I went through in the waking dream, which was then rows
        of closed doors on either side).  The foyer opened out on the left into a large old
        fashioned restaurant dining room, with one person over on the far side sitting at
        a table.  I carried on straight ahead through opaque etched glass double doors
        onto an upstairs outdoor terrace.  There was a city scene below.  On the left
        was a shallow ornately shaped ornamental pool.

        “Reminds me a bit of our trip to Barcelona, this does, eh” Leo commented.

        “Yeah, I’m sure that had something to do with the gargoyle imagery” replied Bea.

        A woman squeezed past me holding a small thick book and I knew she was
        going to jump off the terrace which was several storeys up.  She collapsed into
        the pool, writhing backwards, baring a flat white breast and dropping the book.

        “Flat breast, hahah Bea, that weren’t you then, obviously, was it!”

        Bea chuckled. “Not bloody likely! I reckon that bit slipped in the dream because I can’t find a comfortable bra lately”

        “You and me both” replied Leo. She continued reading from the journal.

        I picked up the book, and somehow ended up with two books, which seemed like guide books. I couldn’t hold onto the two books with the creature in my hand, which was weird, like a very heavy small furry grey reptile, or gargoyle.

        “Maybe it was a baby dragon?”

        “Don’t say that!” retorted Bea, who had a horror of dragons. “The thought did cross my mind too, though” she admitted.

        I was holding it with one hand round its middle and the fat grey belly of it
        was bulging out under my fingers.  It was unbelievably heavy for such a small creature
        and I didn't want to hold it, so I passed it to a boy. (Twice I was holding the creature,
        and twice I passed it to the boy, but I can't recall the other time)
        Back inside the building, I followed the boy down a big wide staircase that
        curved round to the right at a landing below.  I started to fall down the stairs and
        knew it was because of the book that I was holding that the woman had been holding
        when she collapsed into the pool, so I threw the book down the stairs to save myself,
        and felt the tumbling down from the books perspective, although I stayed in
        the same place, clutching the banister.

        “Well I am amazed that you remembered so much, Bea! Going through the doors and finding the books reminds me of Jane’s Library you know”. Leo was starting to go into an altered state.

        “Are you going into an altered state, Leo?” asked Bea. “Are you channeling Juani Ramirez again?”

        “The creature, the gargoyle, was representing ‘a different species of awareness, of consciousness’” continued Leonora, as Bea hastily started taking notes. Leo wouldn’t remember what she’d said while she was channeling Juani, so it was essential that Bea record what was said.

        “The weight was a marker to help you recall the creature, as well as being symbolic of denseness”

        Bea couldn’t help making a snirking noise. Dense eh, she said under her breath.

        “The door” continued Leonora “Is a signpost, a marker.”

        Just then the phone rang, snapping Leonora out of the trance. Bea picked up the telephone, but there was nobody there.

        “Pffft” said Bea.

        “More coffee?”

        #1132
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Dory finished the puzzle, yawned and glanced at her watch. There was no sign of the flight to Long Pong leaving any time soon, so she made her flightbag into a pillow and settled herself along the plastic seating for a nap.

          She dreamed first of her grandparents in their old house in Slurbridge. The house was the same, but her grandparents, Florence and Samuel, were much younger than she had ever known them during her lifetime. They were preparing for guests, and Florence was rearranging the bedding in the upstairs bedrooms. Apparently one more guest was expected than previously arranged, and she had squeezed in a single camp bed next to a double bed. Dory had an idea the camp bed was for Dan’s niece, Aurelia. Funny that, as Florence and Samuel had never known Aurelia ~ or Dan for that matter.

          The dream landscape changed then to an island. The “Others” were coming and she and her friends had to hide. “Let’s hide in the pyramid” one of them had said, but Dory replied “No, we must hide somewhere less obvious, until we know what the “Others” are like.” They weren’t afraid, but they were taking precautions. Someone had been looking after the dogs and cats, but when Dory went to check on them, they had been ‘kept safe’ in a freezer. As Dory opened the door, a half frozen black cat emerged and ran off. “I reckon she’s better off taking her chances out there than in the freezer!” said Dory. At the bottom of the freezer were some frozen parts of Tom, Captain Bone. There was no sign of the others, but strangely, Dory wasn’t worried.

          Next to the freezer was a cupboard, and Dory grabbed a handful of magnetic fridge letters, thinking that they would come in handy as clues while they were hiding from the “Others”.

          “Yukailli Airlines direct flight leaving for Tikfijikoo Island at Gate 57 and three quarters” the bag lady prodded Dory, amidst a shower of electric blue sparks. “Wake up!”

          #1094
          Jib
          Participant

            Felicity was the middlename of Finnley, and she was quite joyful actually…

            #1060
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Today was the commemoration of the fifth anniversary of the first transmutation made on Earth.

              Of course, it didn’t take into account previous attempts (or successes), because they were of the domain of science-fiction and dubious history facts. But now, not only was it rock-solid proven feasible, but also it had change people’s lives like the invention of electricity had about two century ago, in the mid 1800s.

              At first, people had not grasped the profound implications of that discovery. It was another funny science experiment from researchers, and didn’t seem to have any more practical usage as did goat cloning, and creation of phosphorescent pigs. However, to mark the consciousnesses of the importance of the event, the government hadn’t skimped on the showcase. Not that it was of any importance after what evolution was bound to happen afterward, but still, huge sums of money were spent brilliantly.

              The symbolic aspect of choosing what object to transmute wasn’t unnoticed. It could be virtually anything physical: garbage, contaminated soil… But it had to mean more.
              Someone whose name was forgotten came with a suggestion and it slowly came up as the most natural thing —to close this area and open on the new one.
              There had been many people still left to convince, the die-hard fanaticism, but it had to be it. And for good measure, the involvement of other nations was asked.

              Sept. 4th, 2044, the ceremony opened with the display of what was left of Enola Gay that plane who had dropped the first atomic bomb, which had been almost forgotten in the West, but not completely in the East. And many nations came afterward, each carrying a symbol of what they wanted to recycle, to free themselves off.

              Then all of these heterogeneous elements entered the P-Machine, a distant relative of the Z-Machine which had been adapted and enhanced to produce aneutronic fusion at its core —highest temperatures of the universe thought unreachable by human means, harnessed to change the elements at will, and producing no harmful radiations as the atomic towers of the past.
              After a silent moment of unbearable expectation, melted gold started to flow out of the machine, making people wonder if that was all of it?

              Yes, it was merely it. Transmutation could be done, and it was not so impossible as people thought in the past. It meant free resources, recycling of garbage, abundance for all… at people’s grasp.
              What people had failed to recognize at the beginning, apart from the immense possibilities that were lying before them was that the machine could only transmute matter. And even if it could virtually free them of greed (because everything from gold to rocks was basically of the same value now), people’s own values were now made prominent, there was no camouflage left: no victims, no shortages, no lack of.

              Even five years after, it still meant huge challenges, but there was hope.

              #1041
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “I want to go home”, sighed Jose. “I just want to go home.” He sighed again as he stood looking out of the cabin. What a mess it all was. Cyclone Ycart had left a trail of mangled wreckage in her wake, but it wasn’t just the devastation on the island, it was the atmosphere, the feeling of chaos, the sense of hidden turmoil permeating the place that made him weary and homesick.

                “Ah, JoselitoPaquita whispered softly, stroking his hair gently “Why do you want to go home? What about the treatments?”

                “Oh, bugger the treatments!” Jose frowned. “I don’t think I want the treatments any more, you know.” He looked at Paqui’s face. “I never even notice your skin anymore, I like it just the way it is. I don’t even worry about my scars any more, either.”

                “I know what you mean” Paqui smiled. “I’m not worried about it either, anymore. I’d like to go home too now. The question is, though, how do we get off this god forsaken island?”

                Jose sighed again. “God only knows”

                Paqui took Jose by the hand and led him back inside the cabin. “Remember what I was telling you about the ancients dreaming together? How the tribe would dream together, plan where to go next? How they would work things out in their dreams? Let’s try it. Let’s go to sleep and when we wake up we’ll compare notes, and see if we can come up with a solution”

                Jose smiled a crooked smile, thinking that sleep sounded as good as anything else he could think of to do. Well, perhaps there was one other thing. Jose winked at Paqui as he closed the door behind them.

                :fleuron2:

                When they woke up the sun was low enough on the western shore to cast long umber shadows across the cabin floor, and dust particles danced in the golden sunbeams. Jose woke first and lay still, savouring the remnants of dream images. He felt good; the indescribable sense of having accomplished some meaningful communications with known but elusive others that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, yet couldn’t deny the validity of. It was some minutes before he remembered the plan to dream of a solution to the problem of how to get off the island, and in an instant the well-being evaporated as he struggled to recall any useful details, and frustratingly found that he couldn’t recall a thing.

                “Focus on the feeling, Joselito” a voice in his head said. The voice had come through loud and clear, a deep male voice with a hint of a merry chuckle. “Ha ha ha!” The voice boomed again, as if in response to Jose’s awareness of him. An image of dusty reddish skin, swathed in indigo blue cloth flashed through Jose’s mind, and then vanished like a particle of dust moving out of the sunlight into the shadows.

                Paqui was beginning to stir, and started mumbling. “The pool, the rock pool, there’s a cave under the pool, hold your breath it won’t be long and out the other side…” She opened her eyes and sat up. “There’s a pool, Jose, and under the pool there’s a tunnel. That’s how we get off the island.”

                Jose frowned. “Paqui, this island is in the middle of the ocean, miles from anywhere. Even if there is a tunnel, and even if it goes anywhere at all, it would take months to get to the mainland on foot!”

                “Focus on the feeling, Joselito ~ Ha ha ha!” That voice in his head again! Jose was starting to think he was going mad. Suddenly he was filled with doubts and hopelessness. Everything seemed so utterly ridiculous. God, what was he doing here on this island! Everything was crazy here. If only he could just go home!

                “Focus on the feeling, Jose.” The voice was gentle now, and kind. “The feeling will take you home”.

                “I don’t know what you mean!” cried Jose in exasperation. “How can a feeling take me home? It’s not logical!”

                Paqui smiled a wise old smile and said “If you can’t trust yourself, dear one, then trust me for now. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

                “But we don’t even know where the pool is! What if we can’t find it?”

                “Focus on the feeling Jose, and trust that we will.”

                #1039
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Fumbling through the huge pile of paper, Elizabeth cried in anguish “it’s oowful, there’s too much stuff in those jumbled foolders!

                  Her cry had made some of the tiny goats faint and as she started to look around, she found herself in the middle of what looked like a battlefield from the Rooman times, with Robert the magpie dancing gleefully on goats all four legs in the air.:goat: :yahoo_silly: :yahoo_sleepy:

                  Nervously, she reached for her cigarettes, only to send the pack flying in the trash with her chaotic movements. “booger, booger!”. As she went crawling under the desk, she saw that tooday’s newspaper had a chubby statue on the front page ( Oostrians fete voluptuoos, prehistoric Venoos ).
                  “What’s that? She looks familiar that one” thought Elizabeth, the form of the statue vaguely reminding her to go check with her aesthetic surgeon if any more work needed to be done since the last time, three weeks ago.

                  And now, look at that, it’s almost like in dear Harry Pooh’ter
                  That Venoos is made from oolitic stone (meaning egg stone)… “ :yahoo_thinking:

                  But seeing the cinders of her freshly lit cigarette were almost lighting up a fire from her notes, she almost forgot to put that new thing in her clooh box.

                  #2151

                  In reply to: The Story So Far

                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    The Wrick Saga

                    We become involved in the Wrick saga with the great-grand children of Lord (Hilarion) Wrick, living currently in Orkney Islands in 2057: India Louise and Cuthbert.
                    The family has a long intricate story, but roughly we know:

                    • Margaret, first wife of Sean Wrick (unique son of Lord Wrick) died in a tragic accident somewhere in the past, and now Sean can talk to her most of the times.
                    • Sean has a penchant for strong spirits, but in an interesting twist of fate happens to meet and fall madly in love with older Becky (Vane), step-daughter of Dory, during the inauguration of the T.R.A.P. (transfocal reality attraction parc or something) in flooded New York (New Venice). They wed in a hurry (insert connection to Russia and old friends in the business of frozen reindeer meat) and plan a trip to Sri Lanka. Becky who has become pregnant from a “time-traveler” (Chris Robin) gives birth to her three first children, and seems to get cloned in a secret facility to pursue more noble ideals.
                    • Lord Wrick dies after getting reconciliated with his son Sean. His fortune is inherited by Cuthbert who seems reluctant to bear the charge. His sister India Louise is pregnant with a son from the traveling painter Bill Jobsworth who was painting the family portraits and was involved in some unusual experiences during his stay at the castle (mummies and stone heads)
                    • Later in the Wrick Saga, is born Midora, who gets the books from Cuthbert and India Louise and investigates them.

                    The books are thought to be energy deposits of this story, initially started in our timeline by Dory, Finn, Yann and Yurick. The story then was rediscovered by Becky, who initiated a Reality Play with her friends Tina, Sam and Al.

                    #1025

                    Narsila was very close now, she was feeling more of her kind around, exchanging impressions and information about the area and the activities there. The storm was approaching and the humans were sheltering before its arrival.
                    It was clear now that the storm was not of the usual kind. It was connected with a portal, and some in her group where creating a pyramidal action to facilitate its emergence. The sooner it will open, the softer the energy would be felt. If they waited too long, the portal could be more persistent, and it wasn’t desirable.

                    #1019
                    1da
                    Participant

                      1da stood on the shore. amazement splattering awe across his universe. he knew as a seeker he had to return. his journey beginning once again, he watched closely as he stepped from stone to stone along the pathless shoreline of the clear water stream. the scent of cedar and low water rocks covered in moss penetrating deeply with each breath, he smiled… his return and arrival on this planet far into the valley he always and forever would returned to because it was the center of his seeking, he found the depth of his awareness opening…

                      “wait. which planet is this again? of the 19 it has to be one of my favorites.”

                      “timing is everything.” the whisper of the universe

                      “damp drats. missed again.” he replied to the babbling waters.

                      “greetings all ye who enter upon my existence.”

                      – 1da – as in the number 0ne (1) & da as in the smallest particle of nothingness. 8-07-08 …because of course 1da watches from a distance. planet geopositioning time being 4:27:42 PM in about the middle of the Pacific Pond.

                      #1004
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Becky was undecided. Add to the last entry? Or start another? Grinning wickedly, she started another.

                        Her second impulse selection was a slightly late coincidence, but a coincidence notwithstanding. It was about Sand Dragons . A Few days previously Becky had been to an auction. She bid for and won a first edition copy of Wisp magazine; it had cost her an arm and a leg, but she was delighted with her purchase. It would increase in value, and was a delight to read some of the first published articles of the many authors, poets, artists and photographers who would later become famous. The article about sand sculptures had reminded her of the T.R.A.P. day out.

                        Well, how about that! exclaimed Becky, reading the rest of the comment. Wish House is one of my most favourites, and I chose it by accident!

                        She read:

                        Illi used to play a game with Cranky (as she affectionately called nanny Chraddock) in the long months while her parents were away, called Wish House. Every room in the sprawling Elizabethan house was a different time and place, and the moment they entered the room they imagined themselves to be different people, in other times. Petunia Duster the maid loved to join in too; consequently not alot of housework got done, but with Gus and Flora always off travelling, nobody minded. Playing was, after all, so much more important than dust. In fact, a thick layer of dust made the rooms all the more mysterious and magical.”

                        Becky ran her finger along the dust on her desk and smiled.

                        OH! Becky jumped. I almost forgot to make a note of the number, now what was it? she mused, scratching her head. I think it was 171 :notepad:

                        Becky wondered whether or not to start another entry. Intuitively, she chose not to. Her third random choice was another synchronicity with the first edition of Wisp: it was about pyramids in Spain. The first edition of Wisp magazine was particularly valuable as it was the first mention in print of the discovery of the Iberian pyramid culture.

                        Number 835 she noted :notepad:

                        #980
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          Tina, Tina? Does the tally non-rule on posts apply to the Reality play too? Becky asked, waking Tina in the middle of the night with some anxiety lingering in her voice.

                          Oh I see, your babies won’t really let you sleep poor Becky Pooh Tina answered with commiseration.

                          #964

                          Tina, don’t listen, she’s only a clone!

                          AHAHAHAH, now that’s Dory calling us delusional, see Finn
                          I told you she’s a mad woman, believing all
                          that stuff about ancient pyramids in Spain ahahaha

                          I’m not schizophrenic, no no!

                          And now she only speaks about that Wrick she’s just met…

                          STOP THE VOICES IN MY HEAD!

                          :fleuron:

                          Focus on what you KNOW, BE in the NOW

                          ~ I AM ~

                          I KNOW I am more than what I appear to be.
                          I KNOW it is all One Experience.
                          I KNOW I don’t need to know everything, and if I do, information will appear.

                          ~ I KNOW I AM ~

                          #960

                          New Venice, July, 1 st 2035

                          The night was hot in New Venice at this time of the year. The weather patterns had been steadily shifting for many years, and the climate was now sub-tropical in the inundated Big Apple, as more and more people resented the usual coldness of winters, and had subjectively agreed upon a heightening of the temperatures of a few degrees.

                          Though accustomed to tell his body to relax, and vibrate at a lower frequency to counteract the sticky and displeasing effects of the heat, Al was finding sleep hard to find. Usually, he would attribute those moments of twitching slumberness to mass accessing of subjective information and bringing them to the objective. With the eclipse that would occur in the next weeks, those were still time of great cosmic synchronistic congruence.

                          Needless to say, he and Tina had been somewhat stirred by Becky’s sudden casualness, and relative abandon not only of the Reality Play but also of her three lovely first born to her friends.
                          People of that mysterious facility that Becky had briefly spoken so highly of had been doing a fantastic job, considering the very early birth, but still, Al had soon noticed the babies were displaying some kind of emotionless state which was eerie to observe in children that young. He had first thought of a remnant from the birth trauma, but it appeared that they were all perfectly aware, and even more than that, accutely aware of their environment to the point of displaying qualities of awareness akin to telepathy or pre-sentience.

                          Sam’s innate talent with the young ones had been very beneficial to them, and Al was hoping, would help them access their emotional communications as a guidance system to navigate within the immense and potentially overwhelming quantity of subjective information they were given such an easy access to.

                          Finally after having spent so much time before the cyputer, Al was collapsing from tiredness. He threw himself on the tatami for a healthy dose of rejuvenating sleep. Or so he thought…

                          :fleuron:

                          Al woke up with a chill, sweat beading over his eyebrow.
                          He remembered.
                          They would come… Hybrids from their future… He remembered having met one a few years ago.
                          A strange bald guy with piercing eyes and strange snorting twitches on his face. One moment he was talking to him in the middle of the ramp waiting for a condocab, and the moment after, he had forgotten all of this encounter.
                          The guy had said intently to wait for the time when the Dream would remind them it was the Time of the Reunion.
                          So what was next? Aliens coming in their aluminum flying saucepans making mosquito sounds?
                          That sounded awfully like the outrageous rants that old Russian guy named Pasha was making years ago in the archives of Dory —which they had taken as a basis for their Reality Play…

                          Gosh, that dream was so vivid, it couldn’t be a coincidence… Especially since the first Hybrids to make contact all looked like they were clones of Becky!

                          #942
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Becky pulled a loose cotton dress out of the suitcase, and scowled at her bikinis. I’ll go for a long hike, she muttered to herself, slipping a pair of strappy mule sandals on her feet. At least my legs aren’t fat! she said, admiring her slim ankles.

                            Slamming the door of the hotel bedroom behind her, Becky trotted down the stairs, hesitating momentarily at the dining room, she decided against breakfast, and strode out of the door into the morning sunshine.

                            Squinting in the glare of the bright tropical sun, Becky swore under her breath. Forgot my fucking sunglasses, damn! Not wanting to return to the bedroom and see Sean again, Becky strode on.

                            She walked and walked, hardly noticing a thing as she grumbled and fretted to herself. She reached the edge of the town and carried on walking; not paying attention to where she was going, she made randon turns to left and right, and eventually the paved roads petered out into dirt paths, and still Becky strode on in her flimsy sandals, squinting with the sun and the sweat that was dripping into her eyes.

                            By the middle of the afternoon, Becky was hopelessly lost and close to swooning with hunger and the overpowering heat, but she stumbled on. A sudden sharp pain almost doubled her over, and she stood clutching her stomach. Shit, I should have had breakfast, she swore under her breath, mistaking the pain for a hunger pang.

                            Perhaps a trifle unwisely, Becky decided to run, in an attempt to find the nearest house or village in which she could find a morsel to eat. Before long the inevitable happened, and she twisted her ankle on a stone and fell heavily, banging her head and knocking herself blissfully unconscious.

                            #936

                            California, 1849

                            Almost five months… Five whole months they’d been traveling all around the place at a very slow pace.
                            Twilight was enjoying every instant of being in the middle of that strange moving cohort.

                            She had been inspired to write daily. Not much at the beginning, but it was all “in the dedication and intent that marvel would shine through”, as Felix, the Otter man had been saying to her.

                            In truth, she wasn’t really expecting marvels, but marvels had come to her more than once.
                            At times, she even felt compelled to write about it to Jo and Elroy, her dear brothers. Of course, she’d been writing with a clockwork regularity, posting sometimes more than a few letters at each of their settling near a new town, all the way from Texas, to Colorado, Utah, Nevada and finally California. She wasn’t even sure the actual letters were reaching them, but she more than once felt like her thoughts had reached them throughout the distance, and her dreams would confirm her into these intuitions.
                            That trip was hard, harder than she would have guessed, with all the heat, dust and chaotic dirt trails, but the company and fellowship was always uplifting, and a joy of each instant.
                            Even the war between America and Mexico that made travel even more perilous was over after two years, and things all around seemed to settle down more peacefully as if to reflect that truce.

                            And now, looking at all of what she had gathered, she was amazed at these marvels she had collected, those nuggets of their lives, each moment seemingly so fleeting and trite, and yet, as they were put together, all marvelously interwoven.
                            Though she mostly loved passionate real-life stories, she had to admit she had a soft spot (or let it be said, an un-common spot) for one of her most delirious story.
                            She had been inspired to write something about giant ants after she’d been amazed at seeing huge ant hills during their trip in the deserts. There was this mad quack who was trying to extract some sort of honey from giant ants to make a powerful drug, and and she had added lots of her friends from the show inside this story. Herself was a delightful jet-black haired beauty with an impossible name and diverse and frustrated love interests, spying on the mad quack… She even started to dream about that story at times…

                            She loved that gentle slipping into abundant nutness…

                            Now that they were arrived in San Francisco, she was considering settling there for a while, sharing her time between writing and dancing. Time would tell.

                            #906

                            Armelle was aware that everybody would be there in any minute now…
                            The one who had come from the wortex wouldn’t hold long in the middle of these huge creatures. He had managed to injure or even kill a few of them, but though he showed no trace of fatigue yet, his body was bruised.

                            Ah, she sighed, feeling herself on the brink of doing something stupid. Taking a few deep breaths, she hold them until one could see the beautiful snowy owl starting to inflate like a rubber balloon, her size became twice, or thrice bigger than usual.

                            In a few minutes, she was as big as the mythical thunderbirds of the Native myths.

                            Taking a look at her waist, she sighed again. Hope I won’t get any stretch marks…

                            She then pounced on the heap of fighting bodies, and came back in the airs holding Claude in her talons.

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