Search Results for 'mile'
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In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— 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.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky hugged Sam. I’m so glad you don’t drink Sam, she said, emotionally.
Well, I do have an occasional pint down at the Duck and Firken, you know, he replied.
You know what I mean, Sam. All those years with Sean, hoping it would all work out…her voice trailed off sadly….
Hey Becky, it wasn’t a waste! Look at all the lovely children you had!
Becky smiled ruefully. Well, it hasn’t exactly been a picnic either, you know….
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— 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…
In reply to: Synchronicity
hehehe bald sync girls with comment # 248
today I heard that our new colleague is a ba(l)d guyIn reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
These guests have been once again distracted on their way to the party… Malvina was thinking, munching some raisins for her stomach was growling now.
Perhaps they were gathering more guests along the way, the cave was so full of surprises.Oh yes they are, said Leörmn, they have now a little Ugling boy in their care… It’s like this young woman has truly a golden heart…
Aaaand, added Leörmn with a mischievous smile, I guess this unlikely couple with a baby will probably have some surprises in spare for us,… notwithstanding the fact that the cave’s tunnels are already steamy anyway.Malvina caught off guard, almost rolled on the floor laughing at the unexpected probability that had surfaced in her mind, and blurted out a swear word “Boston!”
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
New Venice, year 2101
In the waiting hall, Bart was pacing the floor recklessly. They were having their first baby, but the doctors had hushed him out, because there were some complications…
All he could do was wait.
They were one of the first couple to have tested the new program that allowed same-sex couples to procreate without requiring the assistance of a third-party so to speak. In fact, it had been hypothesized to be possible a long time ago already. Well, theoretically… because the most challenging part had been to bring acceptance to the people, as the old beliefs were still alive in a few moribund activist groups. But what,… nature was doing even more exotic things in the realm of creatures…Now he was thinking of Oscar, who had chosen to be the bearer of the child —a girl that would be… will be, mentally corrected Bart to himself. Funny thing about genetics was that male-male couples could have either girls or boys, but female-female couples could only have girls. Only because the male “Y” chromosome was carried by men.
It had been a painstakingly long subject of discussion among scientists and philosophers as to the unbalance it would create, but well, for the time being, it was the chosen design for our human natures.
As long as new ways of bypassing this restriction had not been invented, better enjoy it than stretching one’s mind around it.Looking at the window which showed the stilted structures above the waters, Bart was thinking how it was all an incredible story… What were the probabilities for that to happen?
Bart couldn’t help but feel grateful for all of his blessings.At the same moment, the big breasted nurse appeared at the door crying with a large smile “it’s a healthy girl!”
Bart burst into the room.
They had already decided how she would be called. Midora, they had agreed.
When he entered, Oscar Wrick’s young face was tired and sprinkled with beads of perspiration, but he had the happiest look on his face. He was still feeling a bit self-conscious about the changes the pregnancy had generated in his body, but for now he was all absorbed by the little breathing thing resting in his arms.
After a warm embrace, Bartholomew Jobsworth thought that he should spread the good news to the family, at least to his mother, dear sparkling Indy and Bart’s parents, Eugenia and Cuthbert. He also had felt the presence of his Dad, Bill, during his wait and was deeply thankful for all of their support.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Yann was thinking about their first kiss. They were not in physical proximity but the sensations were quite real, and it was enhanced by their mergence. When he talked about that with Quintin, his friend told him he had felt it too. He was in Scotland at that time, and they were playing energy games and creating connections. It was very intense and more and more intimate.
Yann was in Scotland with his friend Bruno, and one night, as they were sleeping in the same bed, Yann was dreaming of Quintin, he was taking his hand. At that moment, Yann was also aware that his friend Bruno was taking his hand in the “real” world. He’d been thinking that his friend was channeled by Bruno, it was a fun idea
They eventually planned a meeting in real life as soon as Yann would be back from Scotland… 4 days. Quintin even met Yann’s parents then, as his friend Bruno had organized a “surprise” for Yann’s birthday. When Quintin arrived at the train station, they both were feeling a bit awkward, didn’t really know how to say hello
well for now a hug was perfect. Yann was feeling a strong desire to kiss his friend, he was very attracted and the feeling was quite different from their energy games in Scotland. The physical proximity was creating barriers that weren’t there before… maybe the fear of being intrusive or aggressive…One thing at a time… they were eventually together for 4 days. It was a beginning.
Quintin had some stuffs to take care of before they could go to Yann’s appartment. Something to do with his previous appartment, mail to check, some stuffs to take… Nothing particular to tell about that… Yann let Quintin do what he had to do, though he had a strong desire to stroke his hair. After a moment, that’s what he did.
Quintin smiled. Yann was feeling an intense warmth in his body and he approached his head and kissed him. Well, that was awkward
but soon they were very comfortably lying on the bed and playing different games.Wow thinking again about all that was making him feel hot. Better go to work a little.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Oh said Arona. All of a sudden she knew she had to be somewhere. She handed the sabulmantium to Sanso.
She walked, and then she stopped and she waited.
She did not have to wait long before they appeared. A stocky dwarf, whose presence, despite his small stature, immediately inspired respect. He was accompanied by a young woman, tall and graceful, with shiny golden hair. She was very pretty, but it was the peaceful expression on her face which really caught Arona’s attention. The woman was cradling an infant in her arms.
Palani, the dwarf, smiled at Arona and held out some food for her. Some aromatic orange fruit she had never seen before, however she was so hungry by now she devoured it greedily.
Your magic is powerful, said Palani. Arona wanted to deny it, but found she couldn’t. So she just nodded.
The woman smiled. Here she said, holding the infant out to Arona. This is for you.
Caught off guard Arona took the baby.
I really am having the strangest time, she thought. She had no idea what to do with the baby, or why she was the one to look after it. But she held it carefully.
Wait! she shouted urgently, as they walked away
Why have you given me this baby. I can’t look after it. Are you coming back? At least tell me what is the baby’s name?
They didn’t answer.
Yikes said Arona.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The Assassin was already in the room when Baul came in… Baul wasn’t sure if he would have prefered him not to be here so he could himself gather his mind. But he was well used to camouflage his feelings and inner struggle and his face was quite smiling, as usual.
Looking at the Assassin’s face, Baul was feeling very uncomfortable, he almost winced… the bluish glow of the dagger tatoo on the forehead of the man was quite disgusting. Baul kept smiling though, he wouldn’t dare show his own weakness to anyone, especially an Assassin. His eyes were piercing his soul, if Baul had believed in such thing he would have run away, but he didn’t believe in anything except himself and the power of money.
As the Assassin was never talking first, Baul presented his offer putting the object he had brought on the table.
— Open the chest. You’ll find your paiement inside.
Ar’Am Khra was waiting, still gazing sharply at Baul, making him feel even more uncomfortable.
The Assassin was quite impressed with how the man Baul could master his own reactions, and though he was quite intrigued by what his client had brought, he wanted to play for a few moments. With a very slight movement of his eyebrows, so slight one wouldn’t have notice, he managed to add an irritation in his look. He saw the movement of fear in his client’s face, but still it was so subtle he could have imagined it. Baul pushed the chest toward the Assassin, a bit nervous, but he could …. a sudden thought came to his mind, wandering like a Strokgnutch in a henhouse. He swallowed imperceptibly… Had someone already put a contract on his head? He managed a smile as he was opening the chest for the Assassin.
This Baul was quite impressive. Ar’Am Khra had known what he was thinking as though he could read his mind.
He lowered his eyes to look at what was in the chest. He really desired being surprised by his clients, and this one had never failed to surprise him…
Once again…
Baul was surprised as the Assassin wasn’t showing any hint of the slightest emotion at all… Would he show anything else than disdain even once!?
— A glubolín
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
She was focusing different aspects of herself differently and slowing down her vibrationnal quality in order to acquire that timely touch necessary to interact as she wanted in this particular dimension.
She was focusing on this… cave and adding her own energy to the movement of this seasonable exploration.
She could feel Malvina and a young female… Arona, yes as translation of her tone, speaking together.
She was feeling Buckberry was also attracted to the cave of his father.
She smiled… her dearest Georges was here too now.
Salome was fully focused now in one of the bluish glowing tunnels… she rippled a loving energy to the glukenitche who turned yellow of pleasure for a few seconds, and she walked through the rocky mount in the direction of the roockery.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— The legend of Mævel — (Part II)
The young fairy princess, whose secret name had been forgotten, and thus her very existence to whoever had known her, grew up as a beautiful child.
Mævel she was, and the youngest of the clan too. Her delicate features stood out of the many children that Jorg and Ilga, her human parents already had, and they first saw her as probably their most useless child, being frail and unfit to the works of the woods. But she’d been saved from a sure death, and that had proved to them that the child was some odd gift from the Gods.Mævel looking at her brothers and sisters, was constantly reminded of how different she was, as small and fair and fragile as a sparfly’s egg. She helped her mother Ilga as much as she could in the kitchen, preparing meals for the clan. Her parents did not know how she could ever get a husband, as she would never be much of a great cook either.
So, she was feeling not fulfilled by what she was doing. She loved her parents, and sisters, and brothers, but there was something else that she did not know how to express.
During the springing and sunny seasons, and even the rainy and icy one, she would go after her works had been done to the little meadow brook, and watch for hours the little rosy trouts dancing in the clear waters.And much of her young years passed, and she learned how to cook, how to sew and how to wash clothes and many other tasks that could help the family. She had improved much in her skills and could do wonderful adornments to her sisters and brothers clothes. But noone cared about the adornments, which would be useless for them. But they loved their little sister nonetheless, though they did not understand.
Soon, all the elder brothers left the house, one by one, and the sisters too. And as Mævel turned twenty one, she was left alone with old Jorg and old Ilga.That day, her parents had offered her a pearl white ribbon, for her to tie her hair, and they had thought it would probably please her, as it was as useless a thing as their mind could imagine. And indeed she was delighted by the gift, and to please her parents, she had danced and sung in the night, barefooted on the floorboard, her shiny golden hair swirling around her, as they both loved her to do.
The next day, Mævel went to the brook to wash some clothes, when she noticed a reddish bluish spark of light coming from the forest nearby. How strange she thought. Perhaps it is only my imagination. But soon, a plaintiff cry came from the same direction, and she was deeply moved by the cry.
Leaving her clothes to dry up, she went to the forest, knowing she could trust her instincts and that no wild beast would harm her. Calling to see if someone was there, a voice called her, crying “here, here!”Behind some fern trees, she was surprised as she saw a wounded blue fox. Was it the fox that had spoken?
— Yes, that was me, answered the blue fox
— Oh, a talking fox! You are wounded, aren’t you? asked Mævel
— Yes, a stupid arrow from a stupid hunter… I can’t extract it, would you help me?
— Of course, answered Mævel, hold on a second.And she leaned forward to draw the arrow from the fox’s leg, holding fast so that it would not hurt the creature. She was just knowing what to do, as if she had done it many times already. Then she drew out her white handkerchief, and bandaged the bleeding wound, tying it tightly with her pearl white ribbon.
— I must leave now, said the fox, I am greatly indebted to you, young lady
— Will you tell me your name?
— I am called Blohmrik. And may I inquire as to your name?
— I’m called Mævel, but you can call me Mæ
— Such a lovely name…
— How come you are a talking fox?
— I was not always in the form that you see now. This form is due to a curse from the God of the Forgotten, from which I foolishly tried to stole secrets when I was a young god learning magic.
— Ooh, so you are a god? Mævel was amazed
— Oh, smiled sadly the fox, as you are also, though you probably don’t realize. Gods are not so different than what you think…
— Oh, really? So there isn’t anything I can do for you, is there?
— You have already done much for today Mæ
Mævel was blushing… She dared ask to her new friend
— And will I see you again?
— Perhaps sooner than you know.In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Sean put the letter in his pocket. Perhaps a trip to the Amusement Park wasn’t such a bad idea. He always enjoyed Becky’s company, and he was curious about dear old Al. Becky’s postscript hadn’t made a great deal of sense, but then, Becky was a bit like that. The truth of it was, he needed a break.
Sean wondered if Tina would be there. He remembered their brief meeting, and how he’d been struck by her sweet voice. And Sam, dear funny Sam!
Sean put his hat on, and walked out into the clammy Irish drizzle. A pint of guinness in The Dunloughpadraisobahairiedunkennyloughaire Arms to celebrate, I think! He patted the letter in his pocket and smiled for the first time in months.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The Little Brook gurgled over the pebbles, sparkling in the sunlight, and swirling in little pools dammed up with little stone bridges.
Dory smiled at George. Ok George, I’m all ears.
Well, Dory, you were asking why I didn’t help you, despite being with you every step of the way on your adventures.
Well, yeah! said Dory, somewhat indignantly. I mean, what are friends for?
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Finn moves silently along the path, placing her feet with care. It is more overgrown in the wood than she remembers, but then it is such a long time since she came this way. She can see in the distance something small and pale. A gentle gust of wind and It seems to stir, as if shivering, as if caught.
She comes to a halt. The trees are still now, not a leaf stirs. She can hear nothing other than the sound of her own breathing. She can’t see the clearing yet either, but she remembers it’s further on, beyond the next winding of the path. She can see it in her mind’s eye though, a rough circle of random stones, with a greenish liquid light filtering through. The air smells of leaf mould and it is spongy underfoot. There’s a wooden bench, a grassy bank, and a circular area of emerald green moss. Finn thinks of it as place of enchantment, a fairy ring.
She reaches the tiny shivering thing and sees that it is a scrap of paper, impaled on a broken branch. She reaches out gently and touches it, then eases if off the branch, taking care not to rip it further. There is a message scribbled on the paper, incomplete. meet me, is all it says now
Finn feels dreamy and floaty. She smiles to herself, thinking of the purpose of her mission, feeling as though it is a message to her from the past. She is overwhelmed for a moment with a sense of love and acceptance towards her younger self. Yes, she whispers softly to the younger Finn, I will meet you at the fairy ring. We will talk a bit. Maybe I can help
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Írtak was playing with the dragon twins in the carved woodstones field. It was mostly faced shaped petrified wood that had been carved surely when it was still wood. The faces were quite hypnotic and made him feel often sleepy, but with the dragons he was feeling all his senses enhanced and sharpened.
The dragons were growing fast, hatched only a few days ago, they were already bigger than his father… He knew from Malvina that they could take whatever form they wanted, but he’d always thought that their power were developing from nothing to … something… but apparently they were already fully aware. Their leather skin was glowing emerald green, blended with some purple pink shades, or was it the contrary. It was changing so quickly. He was wondering what they were eating, because he wasn’t the one who was giving them any food. And still they were so big.
Did they have a “real” form? Whatever that meant.One of the dragon gave him a mischievous glance and before he could anticipate what would happen, he was facing a growling troll :yahoo_time_out:. The troll was running right to him, seemingly crushing with his heavy body all the fragile woodstoned faces.
All his attention was on the troll and he didn’t hear the man coming.
And now the troll was freezed running and jumping forever… Írtak’s head was like a big storm of boulders falling from the sky. Growling, drumbling apart…— You have strange games with your dragons.
— …He was gaping at the man… his skin was bluish with pink also and sometimes a bit of yellow.
— Who are you?
— Don’t you recognize me?
Írtak tried to remember something. had he ever met that man before?
— Oh right, it’s our first meeting… from your point of view. I’d forgotten that. But you see, for me our first meeting is in your future.
— …Írtak was still gaping at the man, this strange skin of him, it was so ambrulin, that color he’d already see somewhere… was it in a dream?
The man looked at him, and he felt for a moment a warm fuzzy feeling in his body… not particularly located in any part of it… and he would have… no, it was even in the woodstoned faces around him… how could he feel that?— Your dragons are wanting to take part in the fun, the man smiled. I’m going to let them go, as I’m not staying either.
— Who are you? managed Írtak. — I’m your father…
—
— HAHAHAHAHAH! No actually that’s a private joke… I’m Andrimiñ (AndruhMiiñ?) we’ll meet again in a few years of your time. Your dragons are really interesting then, and so are you.Saying that, the time began to flow again in the right direction, the troll was still running toward him, but he suddenly slowed down and stopped, shape shifting into a bluish boy, with a face so similar to Andrimiñ.
— Where’s the funny man? he said.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky woke up in a sweat. Her bedclothes were tangled and what remained of her pillow was on the floor. The room was full of downy feathers.
Sheesh, said Becky, pushing sweaty strands of hair out of her eyes and reaching for her cigarettes.
What a dream! Wow, I wonder what that witch did to deserve that! Becky couldn’t quite believe she’d had such a violently aggressive dream. All she could really remember was attacking a witch, and slapping her repeatedly, and punching her, screaming all the while DON’T…EVER….DO THAT AGAIN Wangwangawanga…… DON’T DO IT wangawanga… then the witch had turned into a goose, but still Becky kept punching her, causing the poor gooses feathers to fly everywhere, and all the while Becky kept shouting WANGAWANGAWANGA……
I can’t believe I did that, even in a dream! Becky hated violence so much that she walked out of the room if a violent scene was showing on the television, and she loved witches and geese.
That poor goose! Becky decided to go back into the dream, to smooth what was left of the gooses ruffled feathers, and apologize.
She stubbed out her cigarette, and settled back against the pillows and closed her eyes. Now the goose was looking at her reproachfully, in between straightening her plumage, and huffing and tutting a bit.
I’m awfully sorry about that! I don’t know why I did it. Becky hoped it was a forgiving kind of goose, and not a vengeful one.
It matters not, I suppose, grumbled the goose, I must have created being slapped around by a sweaty madwoman, though gawd knows why.
Were you a witch in another focus? Becky asked. Because I was angry with a witch initially, not a big white goose and I don’t know how I came to be pummeling you. Come to think of it, I don’t know why I was attacking the witch either. The witch did look unpleasant though, but you look nice enough….
Well I don’t look very blimmen nice with my feathers in this state, dearie! And don’t remind me of that dratted witch focus, gawd, I was horrid. Not surprised you lashed out at that one!
Becky started to relax. Things were looking promising. The goose was turning out to be rather sweet.
But as you can see, continued the goose, I am not a witch, I am a big white goose now, a rather sweet one too, even if I do say so myself, so let’s hear no more about it.
Becky smiled broadly at the goose. I appreciate that very much! Oh by the way…what’s your name?
Angela, answered the goose, Angela Wing.
REALLY? Becky said, rather rudely, and then caught herself and said: Angela! What a lovely name! Angela Wing, would you like to be in our play?
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
……In case you feel like talking, don’t hesitate any moment, I’ll be here. Anytime.
Love,
Becky.
PS, Becky added as an afterthought in her letter to dear old Wrick, Al’s so looking forward to meeting you in the ‘Amusement Park’ in Central Park, I hope you will disillusion him gently as to the nature of projecting and out-of body excursions……I will leave it to you, Wrick old boy, to decide how best to handle it. Ah, you wise old buffoon, I can hear you saying it now: Al’s choices are perfect, as are yours. Becky smiled fondly and added to the postscript: Wrick, you’re a brick, old stick.
In reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk……
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— 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.
Topic: Yuki’s Livrary
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
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.
