Search Results for 'moment'

Forums Search Search Results for 'moment'

Viewing 20 results - 721 through 740 (of 819 total)
  • Author
    Search Results
  • #1982

    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      YOU’LL BE following yourself BEFORE YOU GET started, WEARING THAT wig, Rose. Come HERE! TINA pulled IT OFF moments LATER, within SIGHT OF EVERYONE. THEY ALL smiled BUT everyone WAS cool. (Maevel WASN’T surpriseD TO BE creating handsOME perfect AND weird CHARACTERS.)

      IT seemed THE PERFECT synch WHEN blue joe THE action MAN, KNOWN TO bed EVERY known HUMAN skin IN TOWN ~ WITH NO particular PREFERENCE ~ WAS FOUND getting A faceLIFT TO help IMPROVE HIS laugh.

      Given THAT sam’S FACE HAD weatherED ALOT TOO, tracy WAS full OF thoughtS OF GAINING fair points FOR A BIT OF magic. HER quiet friends, AS WELL AS HERself, HAD bookED THE APPOINTMENT. Nothing, NOT EVEN THE WEIRD aspects OF THE days, easily FORGOTTEN, COULD SHAKE THE focuses understandING.

      Images IN THE sky APPEARED, AND THEY wondered ABOUT THE STRANGE sound…….

      #1980

      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

      TracyTracy
      Participant

        THE WIDE ones caught maevel AS SHE WAS beginning A game. HER sisters, A boy, HER self AND HER mummy WERE GOING ON A trip. THE bag LADY heard, BUT DIDN’T understand. Night ON THE island CAME, AND sam, quintin, AND quickly yann AND THE BAG lady, moments within OPEINING THE door, A human real focus sort, WHO loved tomkin, WALKED IN.

        NO higher EVENT HAD happened; perhaps IT looked LIKE action, beautiful TO himself, able TO SEE sanso’S mother, rather blond WITH dark ROOTS. AH, words ARE wanted, FOR AN ass SO true TO BEcome aware SO easily. I needed TO read love INTO whatever YOU MAY BE thinking, AS I GO wandering IN THE lemonS, THINKING OUTSIDE THE box.

        Warm SUN, LET’S sleep; let’S meEt AND watch important water IMAGERY. Nothing IS lost, IT’S calling US.

        Cool session! :yahoo_eyelashes:

        IT’S A fine LINE BETWEEN already focused dragons THIS year. IT’S ALL happening NOW; I wonder IF finding tracy created UNtold CLUES.:cluebox: :yahoo_doh:

        WE knew THE great blue GUY WAS getting mean, changing OUR cave SO often AND SO weird .

        NOTHING IS EVER forgotten :yahoo_skull:

        #567

        Veranassessee (V’ass) Eloha, swimming like a naiad in the waves of the sapphire sea bordering the island of Tikfijikoo, was back in a few powerful strokes on the wooden planks of the pier from which she had just fallen.

        Trained in many martial arts and in the art of concealing her emotions, she effortlessly managed to maintain a perfect composure despite the fact that this unexpected moment of inattention may have cost the loss of the precious box of rare Blue Bonnet spiders —the venom of which was needed for the good success of the “treatments”.

        Sharon and Gloria, still cackling unceasingly, thanked Armando, the pilot of the seaplane, who had entertained them no end with his stories of mysterious wreckages and lost aircrafts.
        Now they’d just landed on this paradisaic island, and a gorgeous woman dripping in water was extending them a firm hand, greeting them.

        :fleuron:

        Al was wondering who had jinxed his last entry in the play, that he had to write twice, since some invisible mischievous hand had just made him lose the first in the /dev/null dimension.
        Good thing the Sumafairies bent over his crib had been gifting him with a good memory…

        :fleuron:

        Welcome at Tikfijikoo, where your kewlest dreams come troo.

        V’ass was satisfied. Though, most of the box had been lost, she had managed to save two couples of spiders, which would be enough for the two turkeys. :yahoo_chicken:
        As for the remaining ones, let’s just hope they’re all dead and drowned.

        #565
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          It had been a long trip home, and Dory was glad the journey was over. She sat on the patio in the warm winter sunshine, surrounded by affectionate wet doggy noses who prodded her arm, making her slop her fresh squeezed orange juice. The birds twittered and screeched in the lemon and olive trees. She closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure. Home!

          The screeching turned into a long drawn out yowl, and it was a moment or two before Dory realized that monkey Charlie had rounded up a gang of his canine buddies for another cat mauling expedition down at the bottom of the garden. Dory leapt to her feet and ran down the cobbled path, shrieking at the dogs to stop. She rescued the limp and traumatized, but thankfully unhurt cat, and wondered again what she was reflecting to herself every time her dogs ganged up on one of her cats.

          Shaking slightly, she sat down again in the patio chair, cradling the wide eyed cat, her fur standing in sticky peaks of dog saliva. Dory had stroked the fur smooth, and relaxed. Home! It was great to be home.

          #556
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Chris! you look terrible! Nurse Bellamy, momentarily startled by Dr Bronklehampton’s unkempt appearance, lapsed into first name basis. Dr Bronklehampton always insisted that a certain level of protocol be observed, except in their more intimate moments of course.

            But today he did not even seem to notice her small indiscretion. Nurse Bellamy was perplexed.

            I’ll bring you a nice glass of warm coconut milk, and you’ll be right as rain, she said hopefully. As she turned to go a bandaged figure propped up against the wall caught her eye. The apparition was made even more surreal by the addition of a bright yellow wig on it’s head. She screamed, clutching her hand to her bosom.

            Oh my God!, what is it! she exclaimed in startled surprise.

            A Mummy of course, what does it look like? answered Dr Bronklehamptom in a listless voice.

            :fleuron:

            Chris Bronklehampton stared at the Mummy, and wondered how things could have gone so horribly wrong. All he had ever wanted was to do something good for mankind. Well that isn’t quite true, Chris is it, hmmm really? Weren’t you after a bit of fame and fortune as well?

            You won’t get away with this, you know, said the Mummy.

            #1974

            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              WOW… lots of interesting ones in that cloud here:

              — Once under thinking, session clear words God/Human waiting speaking word, language beginning feeling looked. Key herself aware […]
              — Gaughran home looking funny random energies
              — Tracy floating, magic color seemed trip
              — Points side mountains, process great
              — Bugger difficult! Nice interesting moment link :bounce: creating action
              — Trust help face aspects seems play
              — Structures changing… Dancing green heart Finn
              Badul getting synch princess
              Twilight book important
              Elikozoe stories singing magical times. Able feel sort understand images mind, read Armelle. Voice started moments sync call Maevel

              #510

              :multimedia: Marvin Scrozzezi was considering a script that had been sent to him by his friend.
              Betty, his assistant, had insisted that he reads it…

              Seeing his current movie, it couldn’t be any worse in any case.
              The title of the script cracked him up.

              Ogregan, the Origeans

              Marvin giggled, almost spluttering his smoking chai on the script.

              He started to read the first paragraphs.

              FADE IN:
              EXT. WOODS
              A big humphing man plunges into the woods. Twigs slap at him,
              but the sound of gunfires keeps him going. Sheriff Marshall is
              taking the lead, but an auburn haired man plunges into the woods
              before him, followed by one dark-haired one. They are obviously
              brothers. The older one is ELVIN STREWN, he is following his
              younger brother with the lopsided hair, JAY STREWN.
              JAY is shooting at the fugitive, ALDO MC GALLIGAN, a local
              mobster known as the OGREGAN.
              
              Gunfire explodes in trees near the STREWN brothers, shot at them
              by MC GALLIGAN, and they dive and roll into hiding under a
              palisade.

              Interesting stuff, wonders Marvin… That mobster looks like a fascinating character…

              Flipping though the script he found page 57 another catching bit of reading…

               DISSOLVE TO:
              EXT. PROSPERITY BANK ; SHOT of a Texan bank on a quiet street.
              INT. PROSPERITY BANK
              There are three customers, male. Enters a MOTHER and her SON.
              TELLER#1: What can I do for you Mrs MC GALLIGAN?
              MRS GALLIGAN to her SON who is drawing on her dress: ALDO, will
              you keep still for a moment, good for nothing!

              Pfff, Marvin sighed, feeling bored.
              Not long after, he was sound asleep, snoring loudly on the comfortable chair.

              #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.

              #1958

              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

              Jib
              Participant

                becky forgotten language death jose next loved let funny baby far town bounce lemon moments year bugger heard skin clear

                I got mine too ;))

                #1314

                In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  December 3 rd

                  ( Hey, that’s 12.3, might be a hint for growth… Yurick)

                  A communication about coordinate points, and how to travel between idea clusters

                  As the story starts to develop in a rapid and very intertwined manner, much like waves in the ocean, overlapping and rippling from and to many directions, Yurick became concerned that it may be difficult to keep track of, or rather to retain an ability to graciously navigate in it.

                  Let us imagine for a moment. Take your own life. It is composed of a multitude of moments. Your construct of linear time gives you the impression that there is a continuous succession or stream of moments.
                  In a manner of speaking, it is easier for you to grok the concept of multiple points of attention for your naturally associate them with your space. You can easily envision your many focuses happening all at once in a variety of places, towns or countries, and having a possibility to zoom in and out, so that to encompass more than your single current focus.
                  But what you do in engaging your conceptualization with your focuses would be equally valid were you to engage it in relation to that single focus that is you, in all of its moments of actualization.
                  But that would be far less familiar, as you identify quite strongly with that construct of time.

                  As that story unfolds, you discover that there are an infinity of points of attention dispersed in many many comments, and one comment can include many more than one point of attention itself. What you would be tempted to do, for it is something that is very automatic in your current associations, would be to attempt to draw lines between the points, to recreate a linearity, and thus facilitate your understanding of a certain action.

                  This is unnecessary and within your current movement of expansion of awareness would be counterproductive.

                  But you are familiar with that concept of coordinate points. For most of you, you once again associate them strongly with the space continuum, but they could be used in many many other situations. That story being one of them.
                  The coordinate points are in a manner of speaking, conglomerate of very coherent energy; they would not be “points” per se, but rather high concentration of these points of attention that your attempt to link together.
                  As such, they become the links that you are in search of, for in that drawing of energy points of similar expressions, they also become passageways between the associations that the points are linked to.
                  As a matter of fact, the “point” that you come to identify to the concentrated cluster of points would rather be a tone representative of that coherent energy that you can use to activate the links contained within that cluster of points.

                  That would be the reason why Yurick, in coming to understand that concept, has slightly adapted the original cloud of tags in the story, so that it can expand and be used to access the coordinate points that the tags are, quite simply.

                  #500
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    On hearing the scream Dr Bronklehampton jumped up from what he was doing and rushed towards the laboratory where the Mummy, or Sasha Goldenwort, was having her fifth session under the laser. The only other person with any medical training of note on the island was Nurse Bellamy, who currently was down on the beach climbing coconut palms. A ridiculous pastime in Dr Bronklehampton’s opinion, however a young native boy had taught Nurse Bellamy something called the frog technique for climbing palm trees, and she now seemed to derive great pleasure from skimming up and down and bringing him back coconuts. The problem was, he reflected as he puffed down the corridor, that they had far too much time on this island with not enough to keep them occupied for some months now.

                    A smell of burning greeted Dr Bronklehampton as he rushed into the laboratory. Sasha was lying outstretched on the floor.

                    Dr Bronklehampton, medical expert that he was, knew at once something must have gone horribly wrong. He rang the alarm located on the wall by the door in the hope it would raise Nurse Bellamy, and rushed to Sasha’s side.

                    Sasha was dead.

                    He could see this immediately. Her skin, which just a short time ago was a beautiful and youthful smooth peachy colour, was now covered in purple weals.

                    He sat silently for a moment thinking, then calmly and deliberately walked to the laboratory door and locked it.

                    :fleuron:

                    Nurse Bellamy was indeed halfway up a particularly tall palm tree when the alarm sounded. Oh bugger, she swore. By the time she arrived back at the treatment center, Dr Bronklehampton was reclining in his office. So sorry, he said with an apologetic smile, false alarm. Hope you weren’t inconvenienced. Anyway, good thing you are here, I believe two of the new guests have arrived, you might like to go and meet them.

                    Oh, he said casually , as though an afterthought, Sascha decided to leave early, while the hydroplane was here. She said to say goodbye to you. Yes, she is absolutely delighted with the results of her treatment.

                    #498

                    some writing by Twilight

                    Jo fixed me up a swing. It hung from the old elm tree out the front. That’s my favourite place. I just sit there rocking and thinking, and thinking and rocking. Sometimes I would weave stories or sometimes I would dream about when I am real famous. I know I will miss Jo and Elroy, but then I cheer myself up thinking how, when I am rich, I will visit them and give them money and presents and how fine that will be.

                    Elroy and Jo don’t know about my stories or how I love to write. I ain’t much good. I didn’t get much schooling but Elroy helped me some and then I would try and teach myself the rest. The only book we have is a big old bible. That is written in real fine words. The part I like the best is a song that Solomon wrote. I don’t know how the tune went but the words are real nice. It is real romantic too. I dream one day some man will use words like that to me. Not like those drunken slobs round these parts. Anyway, that’s how I know I am not much good, because I can’t write nothing like Solomon. But I try anyway.

                    Yesterday I was sitting out on the swing rocking and thinking and young Dan from the ranch over the way turned up on his horse. He looked real hot and red and sweaty. Mostly though, he is real fine looking, and I confess I have a soft spot for him. So I leapt off the swing real quick and straightened myself up and bit my lips to make them all big and red. I wanted him to see I had developed some in the last little while.

                    Where’s your brothers, Twi? he said to me.

                    I felt he didn’t seem to be giving me the appreciation I hoped for, so I did a little flick of my head and gave him the look I had been practising. I had seen the other girls do this look to the men at the saloon, and it seemed to work a treat. I gestured at the same time, real slow and casual, and I said “Out the back, Dan.” in a honey voice.

                    He started to ride off, like he was in a hurry. But then he stopped. My heart did a little flutter. He said to me, “You know Twi, the boys at the ranch were talking about you. And it wasn’t the sort of talk should be said about a lady”.

                    When Dan said that, I felt he had kicked me in the guts. I wanted to gasp. But I am plenty used to putting up with things and not showing my true feelings, so I just looked at him real cold. Then I spat. I have been practising my spitting and I can do it real good now. Nearly as good as Jo.

                    “I am just telling you Twi he said. I thought he would say more, but he seemed to reflect for a moment, then shook his head and off he went in a hurry to find the boys.

                    Elroy and Jo looked real bothered when I saw them later. I knew when to hold my tongue so I did not give them no smart talk, and I cooked up a real fine bean dish for their supper. It was real quiet over the table that night. Truth was, I still felt mighty bad over what Dan had said.

                    I confess I felt some cares and sadness on me that evening when I went to bed, and found I could not sleep. I got out my diary and thought I would do some writing.
                    I tried to write what my name, Twilight, means to me. My real name is Tina Willemine Ivy El Disperso. I always been called Twi. Then Hank at the saloon, he says one night, “I am calling you Twilight and that sort of caught on. It made me feel special, having my own stage name.

                    I started writing. Lavender blue sky bleeding into the dark. I thought that sounded quite a good start to my writing, so feeling a bit encouraged I went on some more: Twilight is a magic time. It is the time I see things that aint there, but maybe they could be. My eyes play tricks on me in the half light and I feel like I could be anyone. I feel like I could be someone who I isn’t. Twilight is the time of promises. The promise and mystery of the night to come. It is inbetween time when you know the ordinary stuff could be magic.

                    I stopped. I weren’t never going to be able to write like Solomon. I knew that and I felt real bad. At least I could dance though, and that was going to make me famous. But that thought could not cheer me up this night and I confess I cried myself to sleep like a baby.

                    #484

                    A swirling motion emerged from nothing in the hatching room. Irtak was feeling a bit dizzy and his link with Heckle and Jeckle flinched a bit. He was in constant communication with them since their hatching and he had felt his thought process merge with theirs… He’d been feeling weird for some time and had seen images of things that had already happen (normal), or things that had not yet happen (a bit weirdo), and things that could have happen or had happened in another timeline, and things that may appear in this timeline or that were related to another… he had had difficulties juggling with that and if he had been alone he thought he would have kill himself or just loose every bit of control he had thought he had… WTM

                    He was learning quickly what Malvina already knew and what had been her own path so to speak when she had bonded with Leörmn. Another weird thing is that since his own bonding with the twins, he was feeling their “father” more and was understanding him better. He was connected to him strongly through them. He was then aware of the arrival of “strangers” and was aware also that the man was connected to him. He could not feel the link yet or understand it. He felt different but so similar to himself. And in a way Irtak was associating this dizziness to the man. What was his name again? The Georges?

                    The woman he could see through the twins awareness of their father’s awareness was awesome, he felt strongly attracted to her. He couldn’t understand, but was sure they also were connected. His heart was beating faster, as if meeting an old friend he hadn’t seen for so many years.

                    Wodd! he thought.

                    He was placing the new eggs in the Hatching Room, it was crowded. He had never seen that. So many dragon eggs.

                    :recycle:

                    Wodd! Another energy surge, like some aspects switching swiftly and smoothly. His perception had shifted again. He felt the reassuring presence of his friends, in the background so to speak, but so close. They knew he had to go through it alone and were just here supportive energies. They were playing and shape-shifting so swiftly, as to facilitate his own movement. At one time they were like a blond girl dancing and a filthy heavy man burping. At another they were like a scrawny horse and a man with a strange hat on his head. At another again, they were just blurred and smelly cherry alcohol… Trying to focus on all those changes was making him dizzier. But he was also feeling the easiness in his own movement if he didn’t oppose the process.

                    All the eggs were shining and changing colors, he knew it was their different forms and colors in different timelines and also in different probable lines… He saw for a moment like a big airy fish, translucent and wow so big. It was straddling dimensions and it had a strange shrimpy companion always gravitating around.

                    The eggs were all put together, not too close, and not to far away to create some resonance between them… Who would be here for the hatching? Who would bond with them? He was feeling odd as if it will all be taken care of in time.

                    — OK! it’s over, now we can join Malvina and welcome our guests.

                    He heard himself speaking with so many voices, some young, some older, and some even feminine voices.

                    :face-crying:

                    The dragons were wearing their blond wig again, like twin dancers… laughing and having so much fun.

                    #482

                    Bathsheba didn’t feel even a bit guilty for not telling that fool V’ass about the habits of Blue Bonnets. Cash was cash; he’d paid handsomely for the spiders, and Bathsheba congratulated herself. She wasn’t creating V’ass’s reality after all, now was she? He had chosen to buy the Blue Bonnets; His choice. His choice too to pretend he was a man; Bathsheba wasn’t fooled for a moment, she knew V’ass was a woman underneath those manly clothes.

                    Bathsheba cackled, and set about attracting the next fool into her shop.

                    #466

                    Malvina felt a surge of energy, another one was arriving… not from essence though and… oh! directly here.
                    It took a moment to the energy to clearly focus itself in the room where she was with the vials. It was similar to some of their wolves… but it wasn’t.
                    She knew that energy. It had changed since last time. And now she knew also who was coming.

                    She smiggled and decided to prepare a surprise for her surprising guests. She mentally called Leörnm and asked him to reshape the bal room… she wanted moss, and watery falls, some up some down, some bright blue cristals also on the ceiling. Mmmm, Irtak was in the hatching place, busy with the new eggs… it seemed there were many more eggs since a few weeks now… maybe the dragons would soon fly the skies of Alienor again…

                    What!!! no dragon icon she thought slyly ;))

                    Well she’ll do without.

                    Irtak will be glad to meet himself. She wondered if he would recognize the connection.

                    #460

                    Dory’s stopover at Heathrow airport was longer than expected, due to the knock on effect of delays caused by the air traffic controllers strike in Paris. She bought coffee in a paper cup and went and sat in the cramped smoking room. A couple of middle aged overweight women were sitting opposite her, their chubby knees almost touching Dory’s in the unpleasant little nicotine yellow room.

                    Dory couldn’t help but listen to their conversation, and had to bite her lip on several occasions to prevent herself interjecting questions. Dory wanted to ask where this Tikfijikoo Island was. There was something about the sound of it that caught her attention, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on the strange feeling it gave her to hear the name.

                    The two women, who appeared to be named Shah and Glaw, were apparently on their way to an island to participate in some kind of experimental treatment, Dory gathered, organized by a Dr Bronklehampton. On hearing the name of the doctor, Dory had a series of images flit through her mind. One of them was of an impish looking redhead with an incredibly large head, doing the tango.

                    When the two plump ladies left the smoking room, Dory followed them. They bought magazines in the airport shop, and boiled sweets ‘in case their ears went’, and deliberated over sunscreen lotion, and then after some inaudible whispering, in which Dory heard only the words ‘treatment’ and ‘skin’, apparently decided against purchasing any of the skin care products.

                    Dory followed them into the public lavatories, and learned that ‘our Mavis’ would be joining them for the treatment, and listened to a great deal of rather unkind comments about ‘our Fred’ and his bullying ways. On the way out of the Ladies Room, the bleached blonde named Shah collided with a bag lady, at which point Dory saw a shower of bright blue sparks in her peripheral vision. The bag lady looked up and laughed at Shah and her friend and said ‘It matters not, my friend….HA! HA! HA!’, and winked at Dory as she shuffled past.

                    Dory followed the ladies to the baggage check-in desk. Yukailli Airlines. Dory had never heard of it; new airlines starting up all the time, she thought, and such silly names, like that Be My Baby one…what a daft name for an airline. Dory sauntered past, as she couldn’t really stand behind them without arousing suspicion. She was momentarily swallowed up in a swarm of Italians, there must have been two coachloads of them. By the time they’d passed her, Dory had made a decision. She would book a ticket to Tikfijikoo, hopefully on the same plane as Shah and Glaw.

                    She turned around briskly, fleetingly wondering what to say to Dan and Becky about her sudden change of plans, and made her way back to the Yukailli Airlines desk.

                    That’s funny, she said out loud, It was right here!

                    She scanned the names above the row of desks….British Airways, Monarch, Air France, Qantas…..but no Yukailli Airlines. Dory asked at the Airport Information desk.

                    I’m sorry madam, there’s no airline of that name here, the young man behind the desk informed her, looking at her quizzically.

                    Dory opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish, and wondered for a moment if she had imagined it. Just then someone bumped into her shoulder, causing her to spin round. It was the bag lady she’d seen earlier in the Ladies room.

                    Leaving at Gate 57 and three quarters, the bag lady whispered, and winked conspiratorily.

                    Dory’s mouth fell open. She was about to say Oh now really, what is this, Harry Potter Airport? but something stopped her. Instead she asked, But what about tickets and baggage check? But the bag lady had gone.

                    #449

                    All that farting had been quite exhausting, but the mummy felt that she was reincorporating vigor more quickly now, as the old fartesque energy was giving way.
                    This was a quicker process than birthing, but also more disturbing.

                    She slowly started to unwrap her bandages.
                    She smiled as she saw her peach smooth skin on her hands.

                    :fleuron:

                    Malvina had clapped her hands and made the food and drinks and decorations disappear in the reception hall of the cave, feeling the time was not to big parties right now. The guest had moved again, and she had not been in the mood for party either.
                    She had not yet managed to reestablish contact with her sisters and that was a more pressing matter.

                    Leörmn had been retreating into his seasonal slumber, and would not be of great help at the moment, so she knew it was also time for her to get back to simple things and not worry about what was not yet here. Probabilities had simply moved, they would come back.

                    The silgreen tree had bloomed, and she wanted to brew some potions with its flowers. She would then go with Irtak to the village sell some vials of potion, and perhaps they would take the opportunity to see Huÿgens too, as he sometimes needed such potions for his langoats.

                    :fleuron:

                    For Illi the cat, that cave filled with slimey scaly beasts was now out of her way.
                    Good riddance.

                    This dead Illi experience had been so intense she had almost believed there indeed was a pink indigo dragon right were she was at the entrance of the cave. But the impression had vanished all of a sudden, and she had found herself with her mind again her own only, without the echoing thoughts of that deranged other.
                    She had found a tree nearby, and comfortably seated on some high branches had been mediating with the help of trance inducing betel catkins that she carried with her as she traveled.

                    She had seen some weird stuff, like farting bandage wrapped people putting cobblestones to make a way to the sky, but that was enjoyable. As nothing really could make sense that night, she decided to go to sleep on her tree.

                    In the morning, a snorting sound made her raise her pointy ears. Just below her tree, a man was eating and singing, looking at some map, obviously planning some interesting adventure…

                    :fleuron:

                    In the cave, where Vincentius was left with the Ugling boy and Mandrake, the latter finally decided to break the ice.

                    — How pitiful we left that sabulmantium to the snorting man… Mandrake said, we could have had a peek into Arona’s adventure… Not that I am concerned, she is so brave, but you know, she’ll always be my little… What am I saying? mumbled Mandrake temporarily confused.
                    — Oh, you mean, Arona had a sabulmantium?
                    — Mmm, well, of course… We projected hairy cows and stuff… (I’m really saying the stupidest things today, might be that herbal tea, shivered Mandrake, licking his paw and combing with it the unkempt hair on his head)
                    — Interesting… But you know if you want to have a look, we can do otherwise. Let me see…
                    — (trying to make yourself important, huh) thought Mandrake

                    Vincentius took a little blue bag tied to his belt, and threw a pinch of a smelly mossy powder on the smoldering embers.
                    A thick greenish smoke started to rise making Mandrake retreat carefully (or tactfully he would say) in his favourite place behind the pile of logs to look at the discomfiture of poor Vincentius without having to overwhelm him too much with his own superior sharp intuitive senses.
                    But to Mandrake’s surprise, the smoke steadied like a moving wall, and images started to foarm.

                    — Hey, this is my little girl, Arona! Mandrake couldn’t help but say.
                    A-lo-na, the slow voice of Yikes/Zacquer said.

                    #446
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      About time you woke up, came a familiar grumpy voice from behind a pile of logs. Mandrake emerged. And I don’t have fur balls, he added, haughtily.

                      Mandrake, thank God! Arona had been a little concerned that , given the amount of time presumably had passed, Mandrake may no longer be with them. Tactfully she kept this to herself, given Mandrake’s especially truculent mood.

                      Please tell me what happened now, she said to Vincentius. I think I am ready to hear.

                      Vincentius looked uncertain, sighed , but agreed to tell her the tale. Afterwards, Arona was silent for quite some time. She stared thoughtfully at the fire, mesmerised by the dancing flames, gently stroking Mandrakes silky black coat.

                      Oh bugger, she said eventually and stood up decisively. I really think I have to go and see that old lizardy croney woman, and without delay.

                      I wish you wouldn’t, but I do understand, said Vincentius sadly.

                      I don’t understand, said Mandrake crossly, twitching his tail impatiently and narrowing his green eyes

                      Arona went over to the sleeping Yikesy and studied him with fond interest. He is not getting any better looking with age is he? She kissed him tenderly on the cheek and whispered in his ear.

                      Thank you so much for caring for him, she said to Vincentius and gave him a huge hug.

                      On the way out of the cave she ran into Leormn.

                      Oh, she said, Vincentius said you allowed us to use the room. Thank you so much. And she kissed Leormn on what she thought would be his cheek, however, a little unsure of Dragon anatomy, it may have been technically a snout or something.

                      Arona walked rapidly for several hours, trying to concentrate on the directions given to her by Vincentius and hoping that she was headed in the right direction. Eventually she started to tire and her determination faded. She sat down on a rock and closed her eyes. Her shoulders slumped in weariness and she despondently wished she was back in the cave with the others. She felt deeply sad.

                      And is this something you really must face? asked a kindly voice in her head.

                      I have no idea really, she answered despairingly. I don’t know. I mean I thought I knew. I thought if I didn’t then I would always be in fear. When I looked into the flames of the fire it all seemed clear. I needed to understand and face it, I thought anyway….

                      hmmm, said the voice. Well the best advice I can give you is to trust yourself.

                      Arona opened her eyes and saw, to her surprise, a small cottage in the distance. Why, I don’t remember that cottage being there a moment ago, she thought. It looks just as Vincentius described. How remarkable. I was closer than I thought! Her spirits rose.

                      Outside the cottage the old crone was bent over, digging in a small vegetable plot. A basket of cabbages sat by her side. She stood up at Arona’s approach, wiping the dirt from her gnarly hands on her apron.

                      Hello Arona, she cackled. I have been expecting you. I don’t believe we were properly introduced last time. My name is Lucille. And she held out a hand for Arona to shake.

                      I have come to get some answers from you, said Arona, firmly crossing her arms and ignoring the outstretched hand.

                      Lucille sighed and dropped her hand. Her pointy chin quivered, and Arona noticed a big wart, with one thick black hair growing out of it, right on the tip of lucille’s chin. She tried not to stare.

                      Alright little one, Lucille said soflty. Why don’t you go and wait in the orchard. I will go and fix us a nice, cool drink of lemonade.

                      The orchard was full of old fruit trees, their twisted trunks reminded Arona of Lucille herself. From one of the trees hung an old swing. Arona sat on it, holding the rope, and gently rocked herself back and forwards, thinking. She had to admit, she was, quite frankly puzzled. The visit so far wasn’t going as expected.

                      She kept rocking, faster now.

                      She hit her heels into the hard earth again and again.

                      I don’t know. She tried to dig these words into the earth with her heels.

                      Then she sidestepped her feet in crab-like movements in diminishing circles. The ropes of the swing twisted tighter and tighter.

                      Arona leant backwards and stuck her legs out straight in front of her. The ropes unwound and sent her spinning. weeeeeeeeeeee hoooooooooooooooo!

                      She looked up into the sky. Blue sky through the trees with racing spinning clouds. She felt dizzy.

                      She stood up and braced herself against the seat of the swing. She held onto the ropes and pushed hard against the seat beneath her. She bent her knees under the swing. She kicked her feet forwards.

                      She wanted to go higher. She bent her legs back under the swing. Then kicked them outwards. She stretched her body backwards and arched her back.

                      I don’t know, she whispered.

                      She sat upright. She bent her legs back under the swing. Then kicked them as hard as she could. She leant her body backwards. She stretched as far as she could. On the rebound her heels hit the ground hard, but still she wanted to keep going higher and higher.

                      I DON’T KNOW! she shouted, as loudly as she could.

                      :fleuron:

                      Lucille returned with the lemonade.

                      How do I know if it is safe to drink this? Arona asked. You have cast one spell on me, how am I to know this is not another?

                      Lucille cackled. Dear little Arona, she said, if I wanted to cast a spell on you I would have done it before now.

                      Okay, well that makes good sense, thought Arona, gratefully drinking the lemonade.

                      #1584

                      In reply to: Synchronicity

                      Jib
                      Participant

                        Dead sync :yahoo_heehee: I’ve had a drink with a friend this afternoon and he told me about the trip in Vienna last June… he was with us but did not attend the Elias session.
                        During this trip, he almost choked to death in a restaurant… nobody seemed very concerned about it at the moment but I felt he was really having difficulties, I just pushed the tables around (broke many plates and water stuffs :p) and “helped” him in a way.. He told me later that he’d seen him dead during the experience… he may have created a dead probable self at that time.

                        And he also told me that yesterday he made a lemon pie :yahoo_laughing: and we talked about making a lemon pie too :bounce:

                        #445
                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          Marshmallow? asked Arona, suspiciously, taking the cup from Vincentius and sniffing the steaming brew.

                          Isn’t that good for getting rid of furballs in cats? Oh cat! oh, where is Mandrake? Arona started to panic, it was too much for her. She looked at the funny looking sleeping child, wiped her brow dramatically and lay back down again. Give me a moment will you? This is all rather a lot to take in.

                        Viewing 20 results - 721 through 740 (of 819 total)