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  • #715

    Several days later, when the wedding celebrations had finished, nobody could remember anything about it, other than the jokes and poems. In true Russian custom, there had been ample alcohol…well, more than ample, there had been several hospital admissions from alcohol poisoning, drunken brawls and accidents.

    Becky swallowed another aspirin, recalling one of the jokes that Sam had told.

    As a Lord Wrick was driving down the freeway, his cell phone rang.

    Sam continued: Answering, he heard the mummy’s voice urgently warning him, “Wrick, I just heard on the news that there’s a car going the wrong way on the M4. Please be careful!”

    “It’s not just one car,” said Wrick, “It’s hundreds of them!”

    Sheesh, sighed Becky.

    As she poured herself another mug of coffee, a limerick popped into to her head.

    There was an Old Crone with a beard,
    Who said, ‘It is just as I feared!
    Two Owls and a Lynx,
    And a Rabbit in Pink,
    Have all built their nests in my beard!’

    Who had told that one, was it Sean? Becky smiled wanly as another one popped into her head.

    There was an Old Abbot whose habits,
    Induced him to feed upon rabbits;
    When he’d eaten eighteen,
    He turned perfectly green,
    Upon which he relinquished those habits.

    The toast popped up, and as Becky buttered it she remembered a joke of Al’s.

    Most dentists chairs go up and down, don’t they? Al asked the wedding guests.
    The one I was in went back and forwards.
    I thought, “This is unusual.”
    The dentist said to me, “Al, get out of the filing cabinet.”

    #1690

    In reply to: Synchronicity

    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Oxshift :yahoo_rofl:

      ahem, well for my latest synchs:

      I followed numberplate J533 into town this morning.

      Lemon synchs please see my previous comment well … i finally threw out the last of these lemons I had stored in my fridge yesterday, and thought fondly of the whole lemon synch thing. Then I noticed today that Tracy had posted the lemon tree song again in her ramblings thread. A short time later I picked up the local hawkes bay newspaper in order to peruse it, and saw that the whole front page was a picture of Noel Lucas (we don’t know him, I just include his name for accuracy) and a big heading A ZEST FOR THE BEST. Noel was holding up a lemon, which looked to be about as big as his head. It weighed 756gms.

      Apparently on Jan 12th there was a story of a 600gm lemon (unfortunately I missed this story .. as you can see our local newspaper is full of riveting news …) and now a lemon war has started as lemon growers vie for the biggest lemon.

      Noel has never fertilized his lemons and attributes it to climate changes. He has lived in the same house same house since 1983 and this is the biggest crop ever.

      Director of the Lemon marketing board believes the bumper crop is due to an “evolutionary leap.” hahahaha

      I think this is also a Nadia synch, biggest baby, biggest lemon… oh and also Hercules the biggest dog.

      #702

      There was a tantalizing scent of wildflowers and meadowgrass in the still cool air of the cave, and as Sanso rounded a bend in tunnel a gentle breeze ruffled the folds of his robes. He quickened his pace, gladdened by the welcome promise of an adventure outside of the endless labyrinth. The air felt cool and warm at the same time, and deliciously fresh and clean as it wafted towards him, and with a feeling of immense joy, he heard a snatch of birdsong.

      It seemed like many long years that he’d been trudging around in the gloom and the stale air of the caves, although he suspected it wasn’t as long as that. Time played tricks on him, he knew that, while he was wandering around in the darkness. He’d missed Arona, and that strange baby, when he’d first set off alone again, but not for long. He knew when it was time to move on, and so he’d left them. From time to time he wondered if he’d encounter them again, and knew he would.

      A shaft of sunlight spilled into the tunnel and Sanso stepped out into the light. The breeze was fluttering the birch leaves high above him, as he squinted up at the pale blue sky. Grinning happily, Sanso took his time adjusting to the light. He sat cross legged on the soft green grass, feeling it springy beneath his hands. Hundreds and thousands of red and yellow spotted toadstools stretched out as far as he could see, carpeting the forrest floor with polkadots of colour.

      Sanso looked down at his hands. The creases of his skin and under his nails were engrained with reddish dust, and he wanted water more than anything, gurgling bubbling fresh clean water. He stood up, and shook his robes a bit, and set off into the woods.

      Intuition told him which way to go to find water. He marvelled at tiny flowers, and scampering insects along the way, squashing fungi beneath his bare feet which oozed up through his toes with little squeaky noises.

      A rabbit ran accross his path and stopped momentarily to stare at him and Sanso laughed out loud.

      Oh! Who’s there?

      A girl in bright flowered skirts was sitting on the grass in a clearing just ahead, rubbing her eyes.

      Whoa, I must be dreaming, she said, and rubbed her eyes again. She peered at the apparition in indigo robes, with skin the colour of tobacco and wild matted hair. Am I dreaming? she asked Sanso.

      Perhaps, perhaps not, replied Sanso, who wasn’t really sure. I may be dreaming myself. My name is Sanso, anyway, what’s yours?

      Zhana, the girl replied, Well, Uncle Grishenka calls me Zhanochka, but I…but I….I hate him, and I’m not going back! And much to her surprise, she burst into tears.

      Sanso was momentarily non-plussed, and wondered what to do next.

      Well, dear, if you don’t want to go back, why, then don’t go back! He wasn’t quite sure what the problem was; after all, he’d been wandering for so many years on impulse and whim he hardly knew any other way to go about it.

      I don’t know where to go instead though, Zhana said tearfully. The long dark cold will be here again soon, and I must have shelter somewhere…..who will have me, besides Uncle Grishenka?

      What long dark cold? asked Sanso. It seemed light enough and warm enough here.

      Oh, my! Zhana was astonished. You ask me what long dark cold? Where have you come from? How is it you don’t know of the long dark cold? Oh! Are you from Nishanti’s place?

      Zhana stood up in some considerable excitement. Can you take me to Nishanti’s place? Oh please say yes!

      Well, I, er, um…..well, I suppose so. Well, yes! Sanso didn’t want to let the girl down, although he wasn’t altogether sure he knew where Nishanti’s place was. But he was game to give it a try, and the company of the girl would be a welcome change.

      Tell me about Nishanti, then, Zhana, and what her place is like. Sanso was hoping a few clues might ring a bell, perhaps.

      Nishanti has been my friend for as long as I can remember, Zhana said. We dream together mostly, well, Zhana blushed, Uncle Grishenka says it’s all in my head…he say’s it’s nonsense….

      Zhana squared her shoulders and carried on. Sanso had a kind look, and nodded encouragingly.

      She hardly wears any clothes, and her skin is warm and brown. The sun always shines and the sky is always deep blue in her place and we play outside all year long. There’s always warm ripe fruits to eat, not turnips and noodles, colourful juicy berries and plump pink fishy things, and there are flowers all year long, and the water isn’t frozen, we can play in the water and it doesn’t turn our hands blue…..

      Ah, the other side of the world…hhhmmm…..Sanso rubbed his whiskery chin thoughtfully.

      Ok, I can’t promise we can find Nishanti, but I think we can find the other side of the world. But first, I’d like to find some water, and perhaps a little fresh food?

      Zhana whooped with delight, and flung her arms around Sanso. Yes, yes!

      #683

      The landscape had become oddly unfamiliar to Franiel. He had walked this path to the Village at the foot of the mountains maybe a half a dozen times, yet he felt certain he had never before seen these surroundings. He had never seen this patch of bright yellow flowers with their golden centers, nor this gnarled tree whose branches dropped down over the path causing Franiel to stoop in order to pass by. He stopped, hesitating, should he return the way he had come, find where he had left the path? Yet even while his mind was telling him what he was seeing should not be, he knew in his heart that he had taken no wrong turning. He touched the trunk of the old tree, and asking for wisdom, felt it’s reassuring energy calm his anxiety. The way ahead, though unexpected, felt friendly.

      As fate would have it he had not journeyed much further when he spied a fellow traveler coming towards him on the path ahead, a small figure swathed in colourful robes, wild and dishevelled locks of hair protruding exuberantly from beneath his brown leather cap.

      Greetings Fellow Traveler, cried out Franiel as he drew nearer, My name is Franiel. I am travelling from the Monastery of Margilonia to the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon, and foolishly I appear to have mislaid my way.

      The stranger chuckled merrily. Greetings Franiel, Indeed If that is your destination then I fear perhaps you are more lost than you care to admit. He motioned towards the grassy bank at the side of the path. Perhaps we might sit awhile and talk, for I know that I for one, could do with a rest and bite to eat.

      A splendid idea, replied Franiel, sensing magic in the stranger and enjoying immensely the unexpected diversion.

      So my friend you are a long way from the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon.

      Am I indeed? mused Franiel, How could that be, for that was where I was heading, and as far as I know I did not step from the path, and yet here I am.

      The stranger chuckled again, and his laughter was so infectious that Franiel joined in, not really being able to identify the source of the amusement, yet feeling all the better for it.

      And how important is it that you get to the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon?

      I am on a mission from Aum Geog, the newly appointed Abbot, replied Franiel, as he pulled out the chalice from his pack, to have this cup inscribed.

      The stranger reached out for the chalice, and studied it intently for a few moments. He took some of the water from his own water bottle and poured it into the chalice. Muttering a few words which Franiel did not recognise, the stranger closed his eyes and held the cup up as though offering it to the Gods. After a few moments he took a sip from the chalice. A look of delight crossed his face, As I thought! he chuckled.

      Now drink, my friend, he said offering the chalice back to Franiel.

      This is the sweetest Nectar you carry in your bottle ! Franiel exclaimed in surprise after taking some sips.

      The stranger chortled, It was plain water from the river I passed on my travels. I gather from your surprise that you do not know the magic of this chalice?

      Franiel shook his head. Well to be honest I have not really given the chalice much consideration, only to briefly wonder at my task. My mind has been more occupied with other matters. Franiel looked at the chalice in his hands, And what more can you tell me of this magic?

      I can caution you to be wary my friend, I would not be so quick to show strangers you meet on your path this cup, for be assured there would be some who would be keen to possess this. He frowned for a moment. What are the words which are to be inscribed on this chalice?

      Franiel pulled the sealed letter from his pack, and, feeling only a moment’s hesitation, opened it; “Bibere venenum in argento”, he read haltingly, then shrugged. I confess I don’t know what that means, I have not been taught in the old language.

      It is a curse of the Ancients, it means “drink poison from a cup of silver”. Seeing the puzzled look on Franiel’s face the stranger went on to explain. The magic of the chalice is to transform. I uttered words of love and the water transformed to sweet nectar. Had I whipered words of hate and fear, had my intention been to kill, I could have changed the water to bitter poison. The power though is not in the chalice, it is in the intention of the one who holds it and who knows of it’s magic.

      Franiel shook his head, bewildered, I can find no sense in this. Why would Aum Geog curse the cup in this way?

      The stranger turned and looked at Franiel, his clear blue gaze piercing and direct, I don’t know this Aum Geog, neither do I know his heart …. I know that you are the bearer of the cup now Franiel. Make sure you are asking the right questions.

      #1945
      AvatarJib
      Participant

        Yann was passing by, and had a chat with Finn yesterday evening… part of it was about his ex moving in a new apartment and taking his internet connection with him… that would have left Yurick and him without internet for an unknown length of time.

        Finn and Yann had spent a few minutes chatting about that, and Finn was trying to find a solution so Yann wouldn’t miss the Tobidoo show on Saturday… well she eventually told him he would create an unexpected twist of the situation and create a solution (btw it is 11:53 when Yann is writing this entry)…

        Yann received a mail from his ex this morning and it was about this very connection… he would leave the connection and change provider, so Yann can keep it and change all the informations of the account… and even ask for this new cool internet modem called the Freebox HD V5… what a name, he thought.

        Well all that would be possible. No gap in the connection to the world then.

        :yahoo_big_hug:

        Simplicity 123 ;)

        #1653

        In reply to: Synchronicity

        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          Tracy is making the most of not being able to post and asked me to post some synchs for her:

          Tracy: thanks for posting the comments!
          Francie: okay, i will do that other one
          Francie: you love it eh?
          Francie: it appeals your head counterpart side
          Tracy: lobe what?
          Francie: making me post for you
          Tracy: hahahaha yeah its like having staff

          :fleuron:

          Francie: i took george to vet today for check up
          Tracy: hows he doing?
          Francie: well while we were all discussing vaccinations, he nosed open the door and went careering around the vets
          Tracy: hahahaha
          Francie: down to visit all the sick dogs. Like a crazy thing
          Tracy: oh how funny. Oh I bet they all loved it
          Francie: oh yes hilarious
          Tracy: I kept thinking today that any distraction, was taking Bills mind off the pain
          Francie: yeah
          Tracy: and so was George!
          Francie: ahahahahha
          Tracy: ahhaah I synced with george!
          Francie: hahahah!
          Francie: yes
          Tracy: would you write that in syncs under my name please
          Francie: okay

          :fleuron:

          Francie: what does a jewel on the forehead signify?
          Tracy: A flock of coots is known in the US as a cover
          Tracy: um, not sure, like an Indian thing?
          Tracy: why?
          Francie: some of my frogs had jewels on their foreheads, and then i watched a movie with jewels on foreheads
          Tracy: is it a Sikh thing? Or is it the chakra
          Francie: don’t know
          Tracy: which chakra is that or is it the third eye… What colour jewels?
          Francie: tarotteachings blogspot
          Tracy: ralphmag
          Francie: there is another 8 synch in that tarot one
          Francie: oh wow, a magazine synch Tracy
          Tracy: she understands, with a profound and inherent wisdom, that the universe is a magical and abundant place.
          Tracy: thats cool huh… What?
          Francie: the link you gave me: read the last paragraph
          Tracy: I was thinking about the magazine yesterday… WOW F, the last paragraph!
          Francie: yes!
          Tracy: would you post it on syncs for me?
          Francie: yes
          Tracy: please
          Tracy: I missed that bit, I just noticed the ittiel
          Tracy: tille
          Tracy: title

          #674

          Dr Bronkelhampton gazed at the impassive bandaged covered face of Sasha Goldenwort propped up in the corner of his office.

          Stupid fool, she said. What a bloody mess you are in now.

          I know, it’s all gone horribly wrong really. What shall I do?

          Sasha snorted. What! you are asking me? I let you perform your stupid untested experiments on me, clearly I am not the sharpest tool in the toolbox. No, don’t ask me for advise, I see my main mission in life, oops sorry in death that should be, is to haunt you for the rest of your sad little life.

          Don’t be hard on yourself Sasha, and in a way you died for a noble cause. Others won’t have to suffer the way you did.

          Oh Bugger off, said Sasha

          Chris? Nurse Bellamy popped her head around the door. Are you busy? I thought I heard you talking.

          Dr Bronkelhampton!”, Nurse Bellamy, please for God’s sake, can’t you get anything right!

          Nurse Bellamy flinched. Dr Bronkelhampton was acting so peculiar, she was worried about him. And It was all the fault of that little upstart, Veranassessee!

          :fleuron:

          Veranassessee wished she had thought to ask her boss to remind her what Plan B was. It had sounded good at the time, but now she found herself somewhat at a loss. She sighed. Sometimes she felt like chucking all this secret agent business in and marrying her devoted boyfriend, Mahiliki, on the neighboring island of Fukitupi.

          Well she was just going to have to play it by ear!

          #671

          In the flying car, Al was mentally reciting mantras and drawing symbols, and was distractedly participating in the conversation which he could follow thanks to telepathic transfers he grasped from his friends conversations.
          His gums were now much better, and he had recovered a wonderful smile with shiny pearl-white teeth.

          The car interior was now a bit small for them five, and Tina’d had to press herself on Al and Becky, who was almost disappearing in her boubou full of folds, her head wedged against the hat and the hat against the roof of the car.

          Can’t we get some air in there? asked Tina, who was feeling she needed to breathe more.
          Err… Let me check

          Sam’s friend was looking clumsily at some buttons for one to release the hood.

          Watch out! Becky cried, propping up her hat which had fallen on her eyes.

          They had narrowly missed a bunch of balloons floating in the middle of the buildings.

          Jeeze! It’s no better than the submarway this thing… Becky was being fidgety at everything and was wishing for the whole wedding preparations to soon be over.
          Is that a frog we hear? asked Armando who had finally released the hood, having Becky clutch her hat, as well as little Chump, with the strong wind now blowing on their heads.
          WHAT? FLOG A TIRE? Tina was shouting now, seeing now all the benefits of being able to telepathically communicate…

          A click on a button. The hood was again put on top of the car.
          Bit too noisy, hey? said Armando
          Well, didn’t really mind said Albert dreamily

          Oh dammit! Is there a damn frog in that car’s engine or what? Armando was stressed.

          Tina looked at Sam in the rear-view mirror and spluttered affectionately. Al had just mentally expressed he was experimenting with new yeast actions in his digesting system, and that there was some minor inconveniences on which he would have liked some discretion… His belly was swelling funnily and making gargoyling noises…

          Ahahah, a frog… perhaps even a blue-bullfrog with all that frogging noise! Tina was feeling surprisingly exuberant.

          #670

          Wait!

          A small impish gnomesque figure wearing a black and white tunic adorned with a silver blazon was standing in front of Claude, formerly known as Number Four.
          Claude was reading to fight, and extricate himself of that stinky situation, starting to feel the powerful strength the treatment had given him and feeling virtually unstoppable.
          Considering that such a small individual, especially unarmed, wasn’t much of a threat, he stopped in his track, wondering if that was part of a subtle stratagem.

          What do you want?
          We do not want you harm, stranger. We are aware of the experiments which have been done on you, and we are sorry for what has been done…
          Oh, don’t be, I feel better than I’ve been in ages
          Yes, we saw that, though we are not that sure that the treatment effects are permanent either…
          Not permanent? What have you done to me?
          Nothing. There is nothing to fear from us, we are peaceful. We are a wing of a group of individuals whose primary skills lay in robbing. We are mostly hired to retrieve precious possessions in great discretion and you could consider yourself lucky to have seen us in our true form.
          Us? How many are you?
          A few… We gave you a mixture of plants and magnetite powder to help you stabilize your situation, apparently it has succeeded.
          Mmm, perhaps yes…
          Another thing you probably want to know before we help you get rid of these bandages if you want. During your sleep, you muttered lots of things, one of which was a name: “Sasha”.
          Sasha?
          Yes. I’m afraid we believe that the individual you were calling is dead. We monitored the doctor’s assistant when she disposed of the body. It was not pretty. I thought you should know.

          Despite his mission, Claude couldn’t help but feel sorry; Sasha’s sweet voice had been such a comfort during the last days of his transformation…

          Robbers they say… Hope we’re not after the same thing…

          #667

          Number Four was dreaming, at least it was what he was feeling. The quality of his vision was blurred and he couldn’t really focus on details. He was in a dark room with another man. Despite the darkness, he could clearly see that the man was very pale. There was a third man, mad eyes and hysterical laugh, and a woman.

          The man mad was speaking and assigning them a mission. It was about… skulls? Crystal skulls :yahoo_idk:

          All of a sudden his hearing was crystal clear. He had heard the name of the woman… Carla… He was asking her to go and find a Viscountess, find the skull…

          Then he turned to the pale man.

          Robert, my dear Robber, hinhinhin! I trust you with the Hawaiian witch. Be careful she’s dangerous and very powerful. Don’t misjudge her words or her deeds. Never accept anything, be it food or liquid. Don’t let them touch you either. But I know you already know that. hinhinhin!!!”

          His horse-like laugh was unnerving, and Number Four was so excited, maybe he could learn his own name… why was it so slow!? He was looking at the Baron, watching him laugh showing his immense teeth and gum! Number Four almost lost his grip to the dream imagery.

          Breathe he told himself
          Breathe… Yes, Breathe deeply, YES, YES
          The Baron had finished laughing and was smiling like a vulture.

          When he turned his face toward Number Four, his eyes were swirling like hell, blazing hot red light…

          “My dear one 8-}, to you I trust the most difficult one… My old mad friend on his foolish Island. He has a foolish project, and you’ll serve as a guinea pig…”

          Number Four felt a strong twinge, his dream eye was blinking out of control.
          The Baron’s voice was thunderous and other dimensional.

          hinhinhin! My dear Claude……………………”

          The sound of his name was enough, enough of this insanity… all his memory was accessible now, and he began to feel the rage gather inside of him.

          He was fully awake now. He was in the middle of a nest, several birds were crying around, trying to raise the alarm.
          He gathered his will and released it at once in a fury.

          #1500
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            I better write another one because I suspect Jib is on a mission to overtake me….:yahoo_nailbiting:

            #1996

            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Despite MISSING important ADDITIONS AND tryING TO UNDERSTAND ALL THE interesting great worlds AND creatures, TRACY must apparently BE JOINING IN THE dreams WHICH SHE noticed powerfulLY WHEN following THE warm SCENTS OF home. IT’S real creating THAT’S opened, brother, listening TO myself randomLY bounce THE music IN answer TO OTHER focusES OF Tracy…..

              #647

              When Felicity had taken the job, she had thought at first that it was all a big interstellar joke…
              Come on… Dead people speaking though living?
              But a few recent experiences made her feel there was kind of warmth surrounding her when she started the radiophonic sessions, and that she was feeling… inspired, for lack of a better word.
              Words indeed were coming and flowing, and even though she was rarely speechless, the words did have some different quality.
              And people enjoyed the show greatly, and mails kept coming to the radio thanking DDT for all of the marvelous advices…

              Till then, as she was conscious of the process, she had refrained issuing some definite statements on future events, as the inspiration was pressing her to do at times. As subtle as all of this was, she was feeling it was not really the same energy as the warm one; it was like incursions of a quicker and less stable bouncy energy.
              It was pushing her to make cocky statements, on mass events about to come… Oh, not again self-fulfilling prophecies, please! she couldn’t help but think…

              At times, Felicity was even wondering whether she was really going completely crazy.
              Oh, it was so much simpler to be a genuine fraud…

              :fleuron:

              — Arky, come here at once!
              — But, I’ve done nothing…
              — Stop being such a jackanapes, will you… You know very well there is no secret…
              — Yes…

              Despite his being immaterial, it was obvious that the One referred to as Arky was being scolded.

              — And you know perfectly well there is nothing to gain in pushing things…
              — But I intended well…
              — I know that. As generations of focuses of leaders and presidents have been doing. One would have assumed you’d knew better by now… I can see you’re enjoying being with me on the soapbox, but either you find your own, or you better stay clear next time we get a communication.
              — Understood.
              — Fine, class dismissed.

              #646

              Before leaving the castle, the fake Viscountess needed to check something on the skull…
              Was it a genuine one? She had almost trusted the so-called experts of the auction room, while she knew perfectly well that they only could see what they knew. And they didn’t know as much as her.

              To her knowledge, there was only a handful of genuine old crystal skulls. But counterfeits were legions and a plague for such a skillful cat burglar as she was. Well, cat-burglar,… perhaps not as acrobatically as she used to… As a matter of fact, her life-long search for these skulls had suffered the competition of a little embonpoint… — the good thing being that those few sticky superfluous pounds had been perfect to impersonate the Viscountess.
              In the past, she had come across a few of these fake skulls and most of them bore very similar indications leaving her to think stakes were high that they were coming from the same con-artist.

              She methodically drew a little dagger from a scabbard at her belt. Going to one of the window, she drew one of the curtains a few inches to reveal the pale sun of Shropshire which was already fading.
              Then, she turned the jeweled hilt in such a special manner that a soft clicking sound was heard, and a beam of light started to converge from the sun rays into the dagger. She directed the ray coming from the tip of the dagger’s blade into the bottom of the skull, and hold her breath in expectation.

              Soon the skull started to glow a bluish light, and light poured out of the skull onto the walls in dancing symbols, while a soft buzzing sound was being heard around, started to drown her in a slightly dissociated state.
              She cut the dagger’s beam very quickly, her heart pounding at the validation. It was a genuine skull. One of the six.

              She had to hurry, she needed to proceed on her investigations to find the missing ones.

              The trunk was there. She took another key that she had around her neck, leaving the first one on the cupboard’s lock for the Viscountess to be freed as soon as she would be out.
              With the key, she proceeded to open the high-tech lock of the armored trunk which opened with a blow of air.

              Her jumpsuit was here, along with the two turbo-reactor powered condor-wings that she strapped on her jumpsuit in very professional movements.

              A few moments later, with her big dark sunglasses that gave her the appearance of an obese fly, Carla was flying high over the countryside of England, enjoying the soft gliding on the slightly damp air.

              #627

              Franiel offered his congratulations to Aum Geog along with the others. He did not mind that he was not himself chosen to succeed Hrih Chokyam, and neither would he have expected it, however he felt the physical absence of the Old One keenly. His powerful presence had cloaked the whole monastery in a sweet warmth, and even though Franiel had only been there a short while, he had felt close to the Old One. Of course his spirit will always be here, but the same time Franiel knew change was inevitable, and he was unsure of his own place within the boundaries of the monastery. Happiness and fun were valued highly by Franiel, they were more important to him than all the spiritual ideals others would speak of, and he had felt a slight greyness of late. He found humility difficult and did not enjoy following rules, neither did he enjoy listening to the wisdom of the other brothers. At times his sense of humor would cause them to frown upon him. He knew the Old One had understood this, but now he was gone he wondered how he would fit. He pulled out the note Jog Lam had given him from Hrih Chokyam, Listen to your heart…. it began. What was his heart telling him?

              Brother Franiel!. He heard the voice of Aba Tane calling him. The Brothers were shortly meeting to hear Aum Geog speak, presumably to announce the new direction for the monastery.

              Brother Franiel, Aum Geog has requested you take this chalice to the Village, so the silversmith may engrave it with these words. Aba Tane handed Franiel a cup, and a piece of paper with a seal. He requested you should go right away and that you should remember that the cup is precious. He requested also that I sprinkle you with some Holy Water to safeguard you on your way. In customary manner, Franiel knelt and Aba Tane sprinkled the precious bottled water on his forehead. Love and Light, Brother Franiel. Blessings for your journey.

              It was several days walking down the mountain to the Village. To be honest though, it was a task Franiel welcomed, perhaps to be away from the monastery at this time would give him a chance to better hear what was in his heart, and to miss the meeting was no loss for him.

              He wondered at the haste, and at what the words might be, however it was not his business to question the directives of Aum Geog. He remembered also his dream of the silver goblet. Many things to ponder, he mused, a feeling of excitement growing within him.

              #623
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                Elizabeth Tattler stared morosely at her screen. Her long hair, formerly her crowning glory was wild and matted, small bald patches had formed where she had begun to habitually pull at it. Her beautiful violet eyes for which she was famous were bloodshot from weariness.

                Ms Tattler was known planet wide for her series of children’s books “The Fickle Four”. The exploits of Almad, Tinigrump, Samnuf and Bekipo were beloved by children of all ages and planetary connections, although perhaps most endearing to those of the Fumari dimension who had a natural disposition for exploits of such fickleness. The catchprase “Bit rude Tinigrump”, and “Madder than Almad” had become part of the national vocabulary in recent years.

                Formerly Ms Tattler had written, with limited success, novels of a more adult nature, drawing on her numerous marriages for creative inspiration. However her publisher had asked her to create a series about four friends who were on a mission to create other worlds, the focus being on “providing positive and fun role models” for children growing up in these difficult times of planetary upheaval. The works were in the science freakshow genre of writing and the popularity of the original novel had been unprecedented, taking Elizabeth and her publisher by surprise and leading for the demand for many more.

                Ah, she sighed, and then spluttered as she inhaled the dusty, smoky air, but what a noose this has created. Her yellow nicobeck stained fingers touched her neck and then ran agitatedly through her hair. For at some point, when did it start? the story had begun to take a life of its own. She no longer felt in control as plots became more and more bizarre. She felt unable to follow anything through, creating endless threads which seemed to lead nowhere. She looked around her small office, everywhere was the evidence of stories started and discarded, screwed up pieces of paper covered in frenetic doodles littering the floor.

                The telepooh began to buzz. She knew it was Bronkel her publisher before his face came up on the screen.

                I know you are there Elizabeth. Will you pick up please!

                In a fit of rage Elizabeth picked up the telepooh and threw it across the room, where it narrowly missed Lana, one of her 20 fainting Mongoats she kept as pets. Lana fainted for a few seconds in fear and Robert X, her pet Magpie, hopped around delightedly, Bugger the telepooh, Bugger the telepooh! he screeched. Poke its eyes out! Poke its eyes out.

                #2099
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Sounds like we found some missing link about the fainting goats

                  #1596

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    And another movie sync! :yahoo_loser: Watched a cartoon last night on TV called Madagascar .

                    “Exploring their surroundings, the four friends soon meet the Malagasy locals (a type of lemur given to having loud “rave-like” dance parties :yahoo_oh_go_on: ) and their carnivorous enemies, the fousas (a type of mongoose). As the two sides try to use these four new, strange (and large) friends to their benefit, our heroes are also confronted with the reality of their predestined roles in nature.”

                    If the King of The Lemurs wasn’t Patel I’ll eat my hat. Hilarious! Unfortunately, despite thoroughly enjoying it, I suddenly fell asleep and missed half of it. :yahoo_rolling_eyes:

                    #584

                    Malika jotted down some notes on the chat window, depicting the images as they whizzed into her mind like the pages of a multicoloured flip-book

                    “As she swam swiftly to regain the spot of her observation, she skimmed almost to the surface, and as she did, she saw lights. She surfaced and heard sounds that resembled the music that she and her sisters played.
                    They held in their hands objects that projected sounds…

                    :fleuron:

                    As she swam swiftly to regain the spot of her observation, she skimmed almost to the surface, and as she did, she saw lights. She surfaced and heard sounds that resembled the music that she and her sisters played.
                    They held in their hands objects that projected sounds, and their echoes in the waters were projecting harmonious symphonies that were carried miles across the waters.

                    How odd that the sounds where so similar to the ones she had always known. But they were different, rasher, suffused of a violent nature which was so alien to the world she was coming from. It all was perplexing, and almost deafening to her. Her eyes getting slowly accustomed to the light could not yet perceive that there was no longer the life she’d felt on the strange floating body, but she knew it assuredly even without seeing it.

                    She plunged back into the waters, to reattain the gliding peace and softness that she had been missing so much already, even though she had been out of it for barely a few moments.

                    Where was the life she had felt… Gone in the strange world of the surface? She knew so little of that world, that she imagined that all their creatures could swim as easily in the airs as she could do in the waters. Was there a bottom to their environment?
                    All of these questions were erupting and expanding in her mind, when a sudden feeling got her forthwith.

                    She could feel him. Sinking slowly… and she could feel his pain inside, something else that was alien to her… He was so fascinating…
                    She swam fleetly to where he was.
                    She turned in small rounds around him, following closely his descent, not daring to touch him.
                    So alien, yet so beautiful.

                    She could communicate with him, as he was in something close to a deep slumber, and allowing for that exchange to happen. It was a breach of the rules, she knew.
                    She had been told not to interfere with things from the surface, yet she was interfering already, and she’d always been doing it in a sense… At what point did that breach leapt from her imagination to reality? She couldn’t say…

                    The light was casting a yellow radiance in the blue waters. A feeling of warmth and comfort surrounding them.
                    He was telling her he was dying, yet he was comfortable. Time meant nothing…
                    She conveyed to him that she could help him, bring him back to his floating station, where he could spring back into his world… She wanted to share so many things with him…

                    #509

                    Jo was coming back to the saloon… he saw the new guy rushing out, very pale and sweaty face… his skin around his eyes were of a bad red. He seemed feverish and freezing. He saw him open his saddlebag and take an old dirty sweater, quite yellowish and quite fitting with his face color.

                    He thought for a moment of the itchy fever, no, he dismissed the thought quickly, this fever was… no that simply wasn’t possible. This deadly fever hadn’t been heard of for years now.

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