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  • #754
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      In the sparsely furnished room that V’ass had allocated him on the small building next to the clinic, Gabriele Ferrari, local Eastern Arch-Agent for the Confregation, was lying bare-chest on his bed. Despite the heat outside, the dark hair on his chest, and the lack of air-conditioning in the room, he was not sweating —the result of a total control on his chakras, a training the completion of which constituted the first requirement in accessing to the upper echelon of Arch-Agent.

      That Agent V was promising, he could tell. She was still a bit wayward and impulsive in her decisions, but spontaneity was an asset in their job. Mmm, better not get distracted now. Plan B was at stake.

      :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

      A few years before, Roma, Italy, at The Confregation Headquarters

      — I’m afraid this Dr B. isn’t very reliable. We got reports from the investigations you commissioned on his past, and upon further study of his Internet connections that we…
      — Spare me the details, Agent W.
      — Yes Principate, sorry Principate.
      — Thing is he has shown some mental instabilities, and early signs of schizophrenia.
      — Mmm… We both know schizophrenia is just a pathological sign of accessing other aspects of self… Nothing that can’t be dealt with with appropriate measures.
      — Yes Principate
      — Agent W, you know what is as stake, right?
      — Err…
      — Let me explain to you very clearly and simply Agent W. The artifact that we arranged for Dr B. to find and access the information sealed into it, this artifact, Agent W, is of utmost importance. That artifact is of course well encapsulated into the computer machinery we have provided the Doctor unbeknown to him… It is thus very important that you ensure the good progression of these works. But, despite his… de-ranged mind, as you may say… Dr B. is a brilliant scientist, and his works must proceed at all cost. If need be, send him a local agent to make sure of that.
      — Yes Principate.

      :fleuron2:

      Principate Haniel was quite concerned.
      It was a mere handful of years that thanks to the progress of computers they had managed to decipher parts of the encoded informations. The crystal skull that the Confregation had retrieved centuries ago from the greed and ignorance of Crusaders had waited long before they could start to be privy of its secrets. Centuries of patience would not be thwarted by mere negligence.
      Strangely the information they had deciphered were related to genetic encodings. The genome decryption of most of Earth species had not yet matched the pattern that was found inside the chunk of information until very recently, in an unexpected breed of spiders…

      Hoperfully Agent W would take the appropriate measures, Principate Haniel smiled ethereally. She would see to that.

      :fleuron2:

      Auckland, New Zealand, a week later

      — Agent V.
      — Agent W. Arch-Agent G.
      — We’ve be summoning you for some urgent matter that requires a local assistance. Arch-Agent G. here has advised that your service would be the most appropriate for this delicate matter. Are you aware of the dossier Operation Spider ?
      — Yes Agent W. Arch-Agent G has most kindly forwarded to me the details.
      — You’ll be leaving for the island at the end of the week, after you’ve been briefed on the most sensitive details.
      — Details Agent W? I thought everything was in the dossier?
      — There is a backup plan that has been devised from our best advised consultagents. Let’s call it Plan B for the moment. B as Bee-hive.
      — Very well Agent W.

      #751

      Why you supercilious little prout! said the Mummy

      Steady on Sasha, I don’t think I deserve that. I am a great believer in personal choice. You chose to be part of my experiments didn’t you? Did anyone force you to come here? His voice started to raise petulently. Are you a victim Sasha? Just because one small thing went wrong, an accident, no more and no less.

      If it wasn’t for these damn bandages I would laugh.

      Dr Bronkelhampton threw his hands in the air in vexation. Try and see the big picture Sasha dear. How many times have I told you now? My God we have been through this over and over again. Are you listening Sasha? All you can think about is yourself and your own petty little life. You are dead, you need to accept this and move on.

      Silence.

      Sasha? … Talk to me Sasha dear one.

      Dr Bronkelhampton? Nurse Bellamy tapped lightly on the office door, and entered cautiously. She could hear Chris talking to himself, again. It was nothing new, he spent hours closeted in his office lately. Though today she started in shocked surprise when she saw him, the yellow wig from the early days of the clinic was perched precariously on top of his bald head, garish make-up roughly applied, yet not hiding the dark blue circles under his blood-shot eyes.

      He glared at her. Can you not see I am with a client, Nurse Bellamy?

      She cast her eyes reflexively around the small office, although she did not need to look. It was bare save for a pot plant and that dreadful mummy propped up in the corner of the room.

      I am worried about you, Chris.

      He slammed his fist on the desk and turned away from her, staring moodily out the window.

      Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened with emotion, she struggled to hold back her tears as all the anxiety of the last week threatened to overwhelm her. She reminded herself of the words of her dear nursing tutor Edwardo Lemenox. Always remember your calling as a nurse. When the road seems difficult, take a deep breath and remind yourself you are perfect.

      She took a deep breath.

      I am sorry, I mean Dr Bronkelhampton … I need to inform you that three new clients are expected tomorrow …. and we have two here waiting for their treatment to start … and I can’t entertain them for much longer, they are getting restless. Veranassessee is up to no good, and, Nurse Bellamy pursed her lips for a moment in annoyance .. and now she has a gentleman friend here.

      Dr Bronkelhampton turned towards her quickly, the wig falling off in the process, She has a gentleman friend? Here on the island? Who?

      Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened even more as she remembered her encounter with the drop-dead gorgeous stranger, the way he had looked into her eyes as he asked where he might find Veranassessee, goodness, she had nearly dropped her coconuts.

      #750
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        I take it from that you don’t know where the wedding dress is currently. Well if you do come across it would you mind letting Felicity know. said Tina haughtily, switching the phone off abruptly.

        Al’s words running through her head she started walking quickly nowhere in particular.

        Tina, what’s the point of these experiments we have been doing with Becky and Sam if you are going to keep relying on the phone all the time? And why are you trying to sort out the dress for Felicity, it isn’t your problem.

        It wasn’t the so much the words which had stung, after all he was right, it was the annoyance she thought she had heard in his voice.

        She felt him making contact, quickly blocked, feeling too hurt to be open.

        She knew he was tired, god knows he had put so much into the wedding preparations, as he did with all his projects. He was fast building a reputation for his ground breaking experiments with body processes. Tina loved Al whatever he looked like, which was just as well really considering some of the rather bizarre effects he managed to produce.

        Becky had been a bit irritated with her as well, Tina you are so last decade, nay century even! she would say, rolling her large eyes dramatically. Becky too was racing confidently and exuberantly ahead. Her intriguing contributions to the reality play never failed to amaze Tina. Her own contributions felt stolid, words trapped in a big gluggy ball of last century energy, she had to work hard to extricate each one.

        It was nearly dark, raining harder now, wind-driven rain. Tina liked it, the rain complemented her mood and disguised the self-pitying tears streaming down her face. There were very few people in the street. Just the long line of shop windows, glass faces warmly lit, overhangs offering some shelter from the rain, though it wasn’t shelter Tina was looking for.

        Her long hair whipped around her face, wet blue satin clung to her slim frame.

        Sam had taken off unexpectedly and suddenly to Australia. He had been gone only a few days and she missed him. Dear Sam, his wicked and irrepressible sense of humour could make her laugh even in the blackest of moods. He too was playing with new potentials, forging new and exciting paths.

        The others are probably all communicating with their advanced telepathic skills right now, laughing at dumb old last century Tina, she thought morosely. In fact even last century I would have been so last century, judging by my spectacular lack of success at anything I have undertaken recently. A vision of her recent humiliation in the ballet dancing class sprang to mind. She winced and quickly blocked the distressing image of the dance teacher drawing her aside after class and gently suggesting she might try the Ancient Kuzhebar Motional Practices beginner’s class, to get some basic rhythm, before attempting the ballet. ….

        An elderly woman who had disembarked at the nearby gondola stop splashed by her, and, illuminated momentarily by the street lamp, Tina felt a flash of recognition. The woman turned suddenly towards her, smiled, gesticulated with her free hand, the other was clutching a large bag, towards some distant bushes. She mouthed some words at Tina, but these were lost in the wind. Tina waved and managed a reciprocal smile.

        She noticed a Positivity Robot parked in front of Samantha Lingerie, and found herself drawn towards it, 3D images of models wearing the latest in underwear fashions rotated in the shop’s window, their faces beaming irritatingly at her. These Positivity Robots had been all the rage in the early 2020’s, you did not see as many of them now. On impulse she stood in front of the robot, touched the screen, allowing it to read her energy. “negative 21” its glass face discreetly informed her. The words “I AM PERFECT flashed up on the screen as a suggested thought pattern to implement. Tina grimaced. I wonder how low I can make this damn thing go. The idea made her giggle and to her alarm shot the meter up to a positive 12. Bugger, a bad start!

        What am I going to do with myself, Mr PR, if you are so positively smart?

        I AM PERFECT…. I AM PERFECT …. I AM PERFECT ….

        perfectly grumpy, perfectly insecure, perfectly last decade, perfectly soaked to the skin, Tina watched as the meter climbed all the way up to 55.

        She glanced at the shop window, just as a smiling model wearing a minuscule open net dress and nun’s habit rotated by. She felt an inexplicable burst of amusement as the meter climbed to 57.

        #1709

        In reply to: Synchronicity

        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          A small sync that hits me now I re-read it…
          In Francie’s comment about Elizabeth of the Ooh-dimension a reference is made of the “clooh-box”.

          Funny thing was that yesterday, we were talking with Tracy of one of the tiles which she felt linked to Francie, with the sense of natural magic it conveys. It reminded me that Jib told me it made him think of a magical girl scepter.
          During spring in New-Zealand, so that must have been around October, we discussed cherry blossom (or さくら sakura in Japanese) with Francie, and had some syncs with Sakura, who is a “magical girl” with a winged scepter.

          And, as I explained a bit the concept to Tracy, I told her about the Clow cards (here’s my entry for a sync :yahoo_eyelashes: :yahoo_tongue: ).

          Tracy found Dash interesting (its form is a blue, fox-like creature with long rabbit ears) —even more as it appears in episode 53 :yahoo_big_grin:

          #1708

          In reply to: Synchronicity

          Jib
          Participant

            Eric gently reminded me (thanks ;;) ) that the licence plate of the car was

            110 BKY 78

            Is it a Becky-Clue?

            #743
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Al woke up from a series of lucid dreams, interspersed with false awakening in which he was in the same space arrangement, but visibly another time space or even dimension… He was quite familiar now with these stuff, and could remember them well, but still had doubt about the implications of the strange imageries he was getting glimpses of.
              It was like his tatami (because at this time, Al was finding more comfortable to sleep on the rice-straw mattress) was a flying carpet with its own volition, and Albert, like some modern-time Aladdin, was finding himself plunged right into new horizons.

              Last vision had almost made him blush of the deranged aspects of his mind. Sure he was finding Becky rather attractive (who wouldn’t, he was wondering), but imaging her scantily clad in that skimpy dress in the middle of the bushes was surely some trick of his luscious mind rather than some bona fide connection of his magic tatami.

              Good thing too that the joggers (or thought-forms, whatever they might have been) in the park in which the magic tatami had landed couldn’t see the projected form of Al, because he was unable to move right now, except for some embarrassing lower part of his body. Now the tatami was looking like a circus tent. Oh dear… the wedding had been really hard on his nerves, he reckoned.

              When he finally woke up, he noticed some voice messages on his telephone from Becky and thought he would probably skip mentioning his last synchronicity of his :yahoo_whistling:
              What was she wanting that necessitated a dozen messages on his phone? Couldn’t she just call Sean, or was he still incapacitated by the gallons of vodka he had “injested”?
              Well, surely the matter would wait for him to shave, for he was starting to look like Mr Cavern, with the huge hunger too —he smiled at the idea that dear Becky would surely fear he might eat a clue by mistake…

              :fleuron:

              Moments later, after a good shower, fresh clothes and some slices of buttered nuts bread with pumpkin jam, he telepathically connected to Becky, wondering why she had not thought of that method in the first place… What was the point of all these group meditations together with Sam and Tina if they couldn’t make good profit of the enhanced neurological pathways they had built together. Granted Becky had always been a bit reluctant to use it, or perhaps just forgetful of that possibility… Anyway…

              CAN’T YOU JUST KNOCK BEFORE YOU CONNECT! a shriek suddenly filled his skull

              Al immediately shut the visual, blushing of the renewed deranged vision…

              — Sorry, I just…
              — Oh, no need to trail forever on that… I’ve found someone to help me, and yes, I do remember how to connect telepathically!

              With that, all was left in Al’s skull was a big whooshing wind.

              #741
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Elvira was tucking into some reindeer stew left over from Becky and Sean’s wedding when she telepathically tuned into Becky’s distress signal. Chewing thoughtfully, Elvira tried to make sense of the visual imagery she was receiving. She seemed to be getting a mixed message; was it a nun, or was it a tart? She reminded herself to trust her impressions, and not discount them even if they seemed incongruous or unlikely, and accepted that Becky was indeed in some kind of tarty nun trouble. The question was, where was Becky.

                Elvira pushed her empty plate away, and focused on the situation. AHA! Nutley Park, 25th bush on the left.

                Boris, I’m going out, she said. Becky’s in a spot of tarty nun trouble in Nutley park.

                Right Ho, dear, shall I come and help?

                Another image of popped into Elvira’s head of the see-through black mini dress. Er, no Boris, I’ll handle this myself.

                And with that, Elvira, sprightly old crone that she was (and fortified with mushroom laced reindeer stew) bustled off to hail a gondola cab, carrying a large carpet bag containing a selection of hastily chosen clothing.

                #739

                Vessie Darl, Sha and I are just popping down to the beach for some more of them special beauty sea waters you told us about.

                Great idea, Gloria, responded Veranassessee vaguely. She watched absent-mindedly as Gloria’s generous body, clad only in a skimpy red bikini, disappeared down the corridor. There was something about that shade of red tugging at her memory. Vermillion red …

                Red! PLAN B! Oh my God! how could she have forgotten!

                It was two days since she had called him, that meant he would be here soon, that did not leave her much time to prepare.

                :fleuron:

                Everything has to be perfect. She wears a silk vermillion red camisole, the one he gave her, scarcely covered by lush black velvet and topped with bright red lipstick. She casts her eyes critically around the room. It is nearly three years since she has seen him, she doesn’t want to spoil this moment. The glasses of soft red merlot are ready, a plate of miniature liqueur chocolates on a plate by the bed.

                She shakes out her long dark hair and looks in the mirror. Her chocolate skin glows, her eyes are bright. She will do. She touches the red silk camisole … it is still beyond her comprehension how she can have forgotten.

                When he arrives he is beautiful. Too beautiful. she thinks. It is so easy for him, effortless. He appraises the room and laughs casually, he knows how hard she has tried. Agent V he says, a pleasure to see you again. He kisses her. She remembers everything.

                He takes a sip of the wine. She watches him, unsure of herself. He has a black bag with him.

                He looks at her, sees her looking at the bag, and smiles slowly, I have something to show you, Agent V, he says, and she can sense his pride, the barely suppressed excitement in his voice.

                He opens the bag carefully, pulls out a small white box, handles it lovingly. Two years experimentation in the Russian lab, he says softly, delicate threads of spun blue bonnet spider silk and yet strong enough to hang a bridge on.

                He looks at her. Come here. he says

                She hesitates for just a moment thinking of Mahiliki, and then inwardly shrugs, bugger it, I never really wanted to live on Fukitupi island and have loads of babies anyway. She moves over to him. He takes the transparent silk and slowly starts to wind the delicate thread around her wrists. Try and break it, he whispers in her ear, kisses her neck.

                Then stops.

                My God, what the fuck is that?

                Veranassessee sighs.

                :fleuron:

                No I swear Sha, I am telling you, I saw him go into Vessie’s room.

                Oh my God Glor, he might be a murderer, or a bloody rapist even!

                I tell you though, he were right bloody gorgeous.

                Well never mind that! The door is locked Sha. I think we’d better shout out. Make sure she’s okay.

                Right, good idea. And then if she doesn’t answer we can bash the door in and we can both pounce on him.

                Right, on the count of three Glor, we’‘ll shout out, one… two… THREE!”

                #738

                Leonard stood up, stretched, and began to make strange movements with his body, much to the delight of Mouffle who leapt around him joyously barking.

                Are you alright, Leonard? asked Franiel, a little concerned by Leonard’s gyrations. His voice sounded odd to his own ears, as though it came from a spot somewhere behind him. He was even unsure if he had spoken the words out loud.

                Leonard chuckled, and Franiel joined in, though why he did so he was not sure.

                I am very well indeed, thank you, Franiel. I am performing the motional practices of Ancient Kuzhebar aborigines. It is an excellent technique for straightening the mind. Perhaps you would like to join me?

                Although I am sure my mind would benefit from straightening, perhaps I will just watch for now, said Franiel, feeling a persuasive tiredness sweep over his body. It must be the nectar, he mused. He lay back on the grassy verge, and though he tried his hardest, he found it impossible to keep his eyes open. I will close them just for a moment, he thought.

                #737

                Finnley, you let me in right this mooment! commanded Elizabeth Tattler imperatively.

                I am sorry, Ms Tattler, I am under strict instructions from Mr Arak that I am under no circumstances to let you in until this office has been cleaned. I will lose my job if I let you in.

                Now there’s an idea! she thought, toying with the idea momentarily

                Why that pompous, arrogant, supercilious proot ….. Elizabeth paused midflow to admire her vocabulary.

                Finnley was quite enjoying the change of routine, and Ms Tattler’s office really was a treasure trove of interesting bits and pieces. The thick layer of dust, and were those magpie droppings? were a little off-putting mind-you. She plucked a book randomly from the shelf, and lifting the visor of her protective faceshield in order to see better, gently wiped the title clean. “I am Perfect Indeed” The author was some fellow named Erwin P Lemone who Finnley had never heard of. She picked another one, “Basic Flying Massage Techniques of the Ancient Kuzhebar, Book One for Beginners” by Jibberish E Shrale

                Finnley, Elizabeth’s voice had taken on a wheedling tone from the other side of the door. Be a sweetie-pooh will you and put this note in my clooh-box. Finnley watched intrigued as a piece of paper inched its way under the locked door.

                Sure Ms Tattler, where is the clooh-box?

                On my office desk, next to the daily quotes. Don’t mess anything up Finnley dear, you be careful, I have very precious things in my office.

                Finnley could not resist a peek but the scribbled words made no sense to her

                Amanita muscaria intoxication typically produces macroopsia – Beckipooh?
                13th gate and the 13th skull FEBRUPOOH 20TH 2008
                The Snoot – who is he really?
                supercilious proot! Arak Dr Bronkelhampton? ? ? ? WHAT IS PLAN B?????????

                Her eyes fell on the daily quote for the day, that Lemone chappie again!

                rainy wedding, merry marriage

                She snorted derisively, He must be madder than Almad that Lemone, how silly! No wonder poor Ms Tattler seemed a bit mindblown sometimes if she reads stuff like that

                #735

                The last words of the stranger were still resonating in his mind. Franiel was feeling a bit drowsy and he had the odd sensation of being looked from the inside. A smile illuminated the face of the man.

                You are the weirdest man I ever saw. he said in a sigh. When he realized what he had told his guest, he blushed with shame. I’m sorry, I wouldn’t mean…
                Hahahahaha. The man was slapping on his legs. Hahahaha, my dear Franiel, you don’t know how close to the truth you are. I appreciate when one speak his heart.

                Franiel couldn’t say anything. He was aware that he should have been feeling shameful, but the laugh of the stranger had dissipated that convention. He was just feeling in harmony with his creation. This last thought surprised him. His creation? He’d been told that the gods created all that is on the Duane, her sister the Murtuane and their ghostly sister the Phrëal.

                What was in the nectar? I’m seeing things. He frowned. Something in the surrounding objects, the mossy rocks and the earthly path, the grass and the insects flying or crawling around. The colors were different. Your eyes… they are… blue…

                The stranger was still smiling, not saying anything, and though Franiel was feeling as if he was communicating him important things.

                Something leapt from behind a tawheowheo, making the nearby dandelion seeds fly away silently.
                The creature was barking and Franiel jumped on his feet, making the chalice fall in the dust. It was similar as a mountain wolf, but smaller. Black and fuzzy. And it was running toward him.

                Don’t be afraid of Moufle, he’s my long life companion, he’s been following me in my exploration for quite some time in a form or another. He makes a lot of noise, but he knows his friends.

                Moufle was trying to lick Franiel’s face. All the love he had felt a second before was shaded by the need to keep the animal away. Not that he was dangerous. The stranger… what was his name? He didn’t tell him his name. Franiel was too shy in his normal state to dare ask directly. But he could at least relax as Moufle was now occupied with his master, who spoke as if he’d read his mind.

                I am not his master, you see. he was fondling his companion. He’s just choosing to come with me.
                He kept silent for a minute, snooting around.

                By the way, my name is Leonard.

                #728
                Jib
                Participant

                  Yann was feeling a bit drowsy. He couldn’t fix his attention on anything at work.
                  He had chosen to work on a script that was easy enough so he could let his mind wander about a bit.
                  His attention was now focused on some pushing aspects of himself. Aspects that were quite sure about how things should happen or should be… all he could do was notice how and when he was doing that because mainly he was judging this pushing aspect and camouflaging it very quickly.

                  After lunchtime, the open space where he was working was very quiet except for the little typing sounds of the keyboards… but they were quite rare too. All the staffs weren’t back from lunch yet, and those that were, were involved in a deep digestive process.

                  #727

                  The cave was silent, except for the sounds of water springing from one of the wall.
                  The night was long and full of dreams. Georges and Salome were here since a few weeks now, and the were spending a lot of time with Malvina, talking about many things from different places that Irtak had never heard of. One was called New York City, another was called Vienna, another was the Smoo Cave and there were so many more… Malvina seemed to know most of them. That was the first time he ever wondered how old she could be. Since his arrival here, it had never come to his mind that she could be “old”. He knew she was wiser than most of the Elders, but she seemed so young.

                  She had magic. Maybe that was the key to her youth.

                  He felt Heckle and Jeckle stretching their attention in their dream state. Their bodies were lying together on the warm sandy floor, and their light bodies were playing around. He could see them flickering in and out of the room. He could follow them if he wanted, but his mind was full of the places their guests had described.

                  :fleuron:

                  Georges and Salome were lying on an improvised bed, made of a snoot fur on the warm sandy floor. He was holding her tenderly. Their energy gently merged in a single movement. They were fully opened to one another and Salome was creating an inner landscape for them both to play in. Sam’s body was lying nearby, and her spirit was frolicking around in this inner landscape.

                  They were sitting in the center of a clearing, at night time. The sky was full of stars and Georges did recognized the sky of the Murtuane. An owl was hooting not far away, sated after her hunt. They could feel her contentment, the hunt was good, several big mice tonight…

                  Malvina was with them, and appreciating of the environment. She had had few occasions of going to the Murtuane herself. Even though she was so close, living on the Duane, its planetary sister.

                  Where are we exactly? asked Malvina.
                  Not so far away from the purple beach of Kandulim where Jarvis once came. Jarvis is a focus of Georges. And he surprised me once… Salome recalled that event with amusement.
                  Georges grinned widely and chuckled.
                  Yes, I can remember.

                  Malvina sighed with relief.
                  You are aware that my sisters are coming soon to the cave.
                  Yes, we could feel the calling, so to speak. This is the crossroad of many probabilities, and it is connected to many, though not as spread as the shift in “our” dimension is or was, depending on when you project your attention.
                  It was Malvina’s turn to grin now.
                  Yes, I am aware. It will be soon time for us to move the cave into another location.

                  SPOTCH

                  OH! THAT’S WHERE YOU THREE HAVE BEEN ALL THIS TIME? INTERESTING ARRANGEMENT OF YOUR PSYCHE. THOUGH I PREFER MY CAVE.

                  SPOOTCH

                  Sam got on her legs and barked, quite surprised by this sudden blinking in and out of the dragon.

                  HAHAHA, we didn’t even have the time to seem surprised. said Georges. Lëormn was quick. And he likes being in himself.

                  Salome got on her feet and stroked Sam playfully. The dog was licking her face with affection, and stopped suddenly. She seemed to have heard something.

                  The owl hooted again.

                  My sisters are closer than what I first thought. This owl is an aspect of Oorlaith. Malvina’s gaze became distant for a few seconds. She won’t come tonight with us, though she gives you her fond appreciation. She’s currently busy with a man you already know… Leonard. Another one like yourself :)
                  Salome raised one eyebrow.
                  Leonard his here too? That’s an interesting information :) things won’t be dull with him if I dare say so. ;))
                  I think he’s got a crush on her. He’s doing some stuffs for her at times… and he’s still with his dog.
                  Sam barked a few times, waggling her tail and Georges grinned.
                  You remember Moufle, eh!? Well, do you know where you’re going Malvina?

                  She looked at him intensely and then at Salome.
                  You might be surprised.

                  #725
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    After a long but uneventful ride in the yellow gondola cab, Becky stepped out onto terra firma and strolled through the park.

                    Various fleeting images of the wedding party flashed through her mind, and she recalled the change in Elvira after the meal. She certainly tucked into that reindeer stew, Becky mused, Had a right good scoff, she did. Funny, anyone eating four helpings of that slop would be expected to slump in a chair for an hour or two, but Elvira had sprung into life. She looked pretty good for 121 years old, but who would have guessed what a splendid dancer she was! She put the younger guests to shame with her fancy steps, and tireless enthusiasm.

                    And not only that, she’d really come into her own when the drunken fights started, fearlessly breaking up fights between men twice her size.

                    #720

                    As the bride and groom were exchanging the rings, Al was brought back a few weeks earlier, when Becky had announced the little group she and Sean would get married. The initial excitement gone, Tina, Sam and Al had been given the honor to organize that very special day, while Becky surely wouldn’t care to be bothered by such petty things.

                    I think she’s already getting that distinguished snobbish style of the Wricks muttered Tina who was not so fond of being handed down these kinds of unprompted crottes.
                    Al, who was probably thinking as much managed a Don’t be so hard on her, that’ll be a mighty fine wedding, after all, marrying a Wrick has its advantages, we don’t have to be measly on the expenditures
                    Sam, a bit lost in circles, had acknowledged.

                    Well, that had been fun after all, at least Al was thinking, he had not needed to deal with Becky’s own mood fluctuations. As the only Sumafi of the group, he had willingly taken care of the list of the guests, and all the catering orders, while Tina was taking care of the decoration (bride included), and Sam was arranging for the organization and rental of the places and hotels for the wedding and its slew of guests.

                    Of course, as intimate Becky had first required the wedding to be, she had soon changed her mind, and had not resisted long the temptation to gather lots of people she had almost forgotten over the years.
                    Al could almost see clear as day — now the weather had brighten up a bit — in his mind his notepad full of Becky’s recommendations:

                    Becky’s family and friends
                    Sam, Tina & Al (of course)
                    Sabine Baina (mother) and Patel Mahapushtra, her new husband (a child’s toys mogul)
                    Dan (father) and Dory (step-mother; might fear a trip to New Venice, you’ll have to use some extra coaxing with her)

                    [long list of friends, snipped for reader’s comfort]

                    Sean’s family and friends
                    (mother deceased, father unwilling to come, pretexting his rheumatisms and not being able travel so far, but most likely unwilling to see Sean)
                    Sean’s children, Perry and Guiny
                    (aunt and cousin, Deirdre and Dorean Wrick) — Al’s update: they have unexpected guests coming back from Russia at their home, wonder if they could come? Becky: Sure!… Mmmm, Russia you said?

                    Now, finding some great gift for someone as easily distracted as Becky, and as spoiled as Sean was another ball of wax…

                    #713
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Becky was far too happy to mind the snide undercurrents she could sense from poor jealous Tina. Dear Tina, she’d had eyes for Sean all along, Becky had known right from the start.

                      Becky smiled kindly as she said to Tina: You’re such a sweetie pooh, Tina. I’m so glad you’re going to be such a big part of our special day.

                      And then Becky threw her arms around her in a great telepathic energy bear hug and said ‘I love you, Tina’.

                      Tina visibly quailed, Becky accurately remotely viewed, and her complexion turned an alarming shade of blotchy green. Tina spun round to the toilet, retching, thanking her lucky stars that she was already in the bathroom and close to the lavatory.

                      #1695

                      In reply to: Synchronicity

                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        And I’d like to bring your attention to the mouse in Sanso’s dream, and the mouse in Eric’s comment, AND, last but not least, I’d like to remind everyone that I made the 1111th comment today.

                        :yahoo_rofl: and let me just add, had I not posted lots of silly one-iconers on a whimsical impulse last night, I wouldn’t have got the 1111th post today….. :yahoo_winking:

                        #1895
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          I had no idea that Russian mushrooms would prove to be such an interesting subject…..

                          Vladimir Soloukhin:

                          While you are sorting out the mushrooms you recall each one, where you found it, how you first saw it, how it was growing beneath this bush or that tree. Once again you experience the pleasure of each discovery, particularly if they were rare and fortunate discoveries. Once again all the images of the mushroom forest drift through your mind, all the secluded wooded spots, where you are no longer, but where the dark firs still lour and the crimson-touched aspens speak their language in low breath.

                          #701

                          I must be talking to an angel Yurick thought, as he was feeling the presence of the lady he had seen in his dreams a few times before. Her presence was remarkably soft, yet, she was unmistakably here, like a loving sisterly figure. Yurick could see at times streaks of a shimmering blue-green halo when he was thinking of her, and this morning, walking in the underground corridors, as he was humming and thinking of this angel, his gaze landed on a movie poster, with beautiful women profiles. None of these profiles had attracted his gaze at first, but a name. Salomé.
                          Then only, the poster slowly began to unfold itself into focus around that name…
                          The women were beautiful and seemed to be like beams of a multitude of variations from a single energy essence, like some traditional Avalokiteshvara (Kuan Yin) representations.
                          The title of that movie was “Les Femmes de l’Ombre” (Women of the Shadow), and that “Salomé” he had seen was the name of the director… How interesting symbolic information…

                          While she reminded him not of the Salomé of Wilde’s play, but of another biblical figure, the Salomé of the New Testament, follower of the Christ, and likely sister of Mary, Yurick decided he would call that gentle feminine presence “Salomé”…
                          A woman of the Shadow. For now…

                          #698
                          Jib
                          Participant

                            Another element of the dream was coming again and again… this girl, she was with a huge creature… the shapes were not clear though the image was colorful… It was like a picture of her with her… dragon? Two names came to his mind : Lola and Asiir . The funny part is that he felt one of his friends was connected to her also in a closer way… and he had a message from her just this noon. :-?

                            Were they connected to the girl that needed help?

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