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  • #3679
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Aunt Idle:

      I’ll be honest, I wasn’t pleased to see her. Not that I don’t like her, I do, but she wreaks havoc whenever she gets one of those impulses to threadcrash. I prefer it when she stays put, and we communicate via the written word, I really do. And today of all days, with a car full of people ~ and a baby!

      I asked Finly to take care of the baby, and the twins to look after the old couple, and took Liz by the elbow and steered her firmly into the dining room, and shut the door behind me.

      “Don’t tell me, let me guess!” she said. “It was Miss Scarlett with a candelabra in the dining room?”

      Had she barged in on the wrong story? I had to do some quick thinking, because if she was in the wrong place, it would be an easy matter to simply redirect her. There may be no need for more direct forceful measures.

      #3671
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Elizabeth suddenly felt overwhelmed with loving kindness, and hugged everyone. “I am so sorry I’m a sourpuss at times, I love you all.”

        While everyone was speechless, she continued: “This is indeed a trying and difficult season at times, despite our best efforts to eradicate it from our calendars. The social constructs of cheer and goodwill must never be confused with acquiescing to the pressures of the needy, if the needy resort to emotional blackmail and bullying. Indeed, it is a kindness to all concerned, not least ones own self, to refuse to kowtow simply because of the date on the calendar!”

        “Hear! ……Hear!” said Norbert slowly.

        “Blimey,” muttered Finnley, while Arona Haki whistled and said “Bloody heel!”

        “Waaaahh wahhhha!” cried the cold baby shivering on the patio.

        “Oh my god, the fucking baby!” Elizabeth shouted, leaping up and running outside, and accidentally tipping over the sherry bottle and the plate of mince pies.

        #3669
        prUneprUne
        Participant

          Christmas has always been a strange tradition in our family.
          Maybe because first and foremost, Christmas is all about family. Besides the twins and their bond, sometimes I wonder what makes us a family at all.
          It doesn’t help that we can never get snow around this place, and dressing in red and white fluff is not going to make things suddenly magical.

          It was comical to see the exterminator come with a red bonnet, panting and all red himself, as if he were some genial Santa bringing gifts of death to our yonder’s rodents residents.
          He didn’t catch a rat, but got himself a fright. Thanks to Mater, when she erupted in the attic in her white hanuka honey cream face-lifter mask. I think that sneaky Finly got to her in the end.
          The mystery of the strange noises in the inn is not going soon, apparently.

          Bert and Aunt Idle got back from their trip in the evening. Apparently Bert had insisted to bring some sort of shrub to make a Christmas tree in the great hall (it’s not so great, but we call it that). Finly didn’t seem pleased too much with it. Raking leaves in summer, bringing pests inside… she didn’t have many kind things to say about it. So Mater sends her to cook a “festive dinner”, that’s what she said. I heard Finly mutter in her breath something about kiwi specials. I like kiwis. Hope she’ll make a pavlova… just, not with Mater’s face cream!

          It seems that giving small gestures of appreciation got the mood going. Aunt Idle is always very good at decorating with the oddest or simplest of things, like rolls of TP. Sometimes she would draw nice hieroglyphs in the layer of dust on the cabinets, it gives the furniture a special look. Mater always says it’s because she’s too lazy to do some cleaning consistently, but I think it’s because cleaning is not creative enough for her. Can’t believe I just said nice things about Aunt Idle. Christmas spirit must be contagious.

          Then, Devan came home with some pastries. It’s not often I see Devan these days, and usually he’s always brooding. I would too, if I had to come back home when I could just start my life away from there. Finly was all eyes on him all of a sudden. Seems nobody noticed, not even the twins, too busy being snarky while playing on their phones,… it looks like there is some strange game between these two, my brother and our Finly. I think Finly makes a lot of efforts to look younger with him, I can see when she fiddles with her hair. They would make good friends, and I’m sure Devan doesn’t mind the accent.

          As always, it’s not about how pretty the tree is, or how good the food is, or how big the gifts are… It’s more about being together, for better or for worse. And Dad, and Mum are always out of this almost nice picture, but somehow, it matters less today.

          There’s a good thing about that Christmas spirit. It gives you the weirdest ideas. To be nice, I asked Mater if we should invite the guests to our festive dinner, and probably lifted by the mood, she said yes, of course. When I went to the closed door to invite the guy, I thought a random act of kindnes is a perfect occasion to learn more about our mysterious resident stranger… Maybe that’s what the adults mean in church when they say you should always be kind to each other.

          #3625

          In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            “So what’s around there to do?” Prune asked Maya at the welcome party.
            She gauged the woman, who had an air of de facto authority, and seemed open and friendly with everyone. A bit too much to Prune’s tastes to be honest.

            “Whatever you feel like. It’s the magic of it. It’s all open, all up to us to build the world we want.”
            “Sounds like a hell of a lot of work to do.” Prune snickered against her will.
            “That’s the thing. It’s only work if your heart isn’t in it. For most of us, it’s our life’s purpose, and we quite enjoy it. Not to say there aren’t some days we’re tired of it…” Maya smiled, “but we make the best of it anyway.”

            Prune didn’t think of anything clever to retort, and didn’t want to look into all those years of resentment after her family for limiting her. Maybe her family was for nothing in it. The thought of it was terrifying.

            Maya broke the uneasy silence with lightly compassion “And what brought you here? I mean, apart from the obvious… The real reason you took this harrowing trip to nowhere?”
            Prune shrugged, and almost immediately started to giggle uncontrollably while catching her stomach. Stop it, stop it she whispered to her stomach.

            Maya smiled. “You should let it out. It’s been a while I haven’t seen one. They’re so cuddly and cute.”
            Prune stopped speechless with surprise.
            Maya laughed “The hair on your clothes is a bit of a giveaway. Come on, don’t worry, the quarantine is pretty relaxed here.”

            Prune let the little guinea pig out of her jacket, and it squealed in delight. She let a smile open her face “It’s the last surviving one of my grandmother’s. I just couldn’t leave it…”

            Maya rose from her formica chair, and took her arm. “Come, I’ll show you the crops. We have some fantastic kale, I’m sure it’ll love it.”

            #3623
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Finnley’s tirade stirred something in Godfrey.

              He may not have completely given voice of the thought in his head, but it made him realize that the thought of quitting for something different had been here all along.
              He liked Elizabeth well enough. To be honest, such caring for an ungrateful and volatile lady was borderline devotion, but still, it wasn’t about that.

              I wanted to change the world, and Elizabeth vision of greatness and madness alike was, for a time, something he could fall in line behind and support with passion.

              Through visionary books, to open the minds of the pleb to the realms of possibilities, ah! no matter how deliciously delirious and quaint such possibilities seemed. That was a grand epic in budding.

              And then, after so many years of relentless editing, copy-writing, and of course maid after maid interviews, all there was left? Unbridled madness and tyranny from the well of grandiose ideas that Elizabeth had been, and to some extent still, was.

              In fact, Godfrey had stifled his own creativity by falling in line behind the writing giantess. There were timid attempts at writing his own story, and only piles of old notebook to account for it.

              Purpose, Truth, Action those were the magic words…

              “Oh, bugger it Liz’. I quit.”

              How’s that for action? Another thread would do me good. Like to see what life’s brewing on Mars.

              #3618

              Aunt Idle:

              Bert came with me. Usually one of us always stayed home to keep an eye on Mater and the kids, but now we had that capable girl, Finly, to keep an eye on things.

              It was good to get away from the place for a few hours, and head off on a different route to the usual shopping and errand trips. The nearest sizable town was in the opposite direction; it was years since I’d been to Ninetown. I asked Bert about the place on the other side of the river, what was it that intrigued him so. I’ll be honest, I wondered if he was losing his marbles when he said it was the medieval ruins over there.

              “Don’t be daft, Bert, how can there be medieval ruins over there?” I asked.

              “I didn’t say they were medieval, Idle, I said that’s what they looked like,” he replied.

              “But …but history, Bert! There’s no history here of medieval towns! Who could have built it?”

              “That’s why I found it so fucking interesting, but if it doesn’t fit the picture, nobody wants to hear anything about it!”

              “Well I’m interested Bert. Yes, yes, I know I wasn’t interested before, but I am now.”

              Bert grunted and lit a cigarette.

              ~~~

              We stopped at a roadside restaurant just outside Ninetown for lunch. The midday heat was enervating, but inside the restaurant was a pleasant few degrees cooler. Bert wasn’t one for small talk, so I picked up a local paper to peruse while I ate my sandwich and Bert tucked into a greasy heap of chips and meat. I flicked through it without much interest in the mundane goings on of the town, that is, until I saw those names: Tattler, Trout and Trueman.

              It was an article about a ghost town on the other side of Ninetown that had been bought up by a consortium of doctors. Apparently they’d acquired it for pennies as it had been completely deserted for decades, with the intention of developing it into an exclusive clinic.

              “There’s something fishy about that!” I exclaimed, a bit too loudly. Several of the locals turned to look at me. I lowered my voice, not wanting to attract any more attention while I tried to make sense of it.

              “Read this!” I passed the paper over the Bert.

              “So what?” he asked. “Who cares?”

              “Look!” I said, jabbing my finger on the names Tattler, Trout and Trueman. Bert looked puzzled, understandably enough. “Allow me to explain” I said, and I told him about the business card that Flora had left on the porch table.

              “What does Flora have to do with this consortium of doctors? And what the hell is the point in setting up a clinic there, in the middle of nowhere?”

              “That,” I replied, “Is the question!”

              #3601
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Deep in thought, Devan didn’t notice Finly watching him from the end of the porch. As he clumped down the steps and made his way towards the clapped out banger that served as transport to work, she weighed him up, pausing for a moment with the window cleaning cloth poised in mid air.

                He was young, but then, she liked them young. Virile, energetic, easily controlled. The rebellious ones were not so rebellious towards an older woman of experience in their bed. Not that she was all that much older than he was, but the difference in age was enough to create an air of experience. Finly liked to keep on top of things ~ both her cleaning duties, and her young men.

                Nice ass, she said to herself, with a warm tingle of anticipation, rubbing the windows with renewed vigour. She licked her lips, smirking at her reflection in the glass, and then blew herself a kiss. A slight movement caught her eye. Prune bobbed her tongue out, and then disappeared from view.

                #3584
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  It was Mater who decided they needed to get some cleaning help. She commandeered Clove to do some research on the internet and eventually found a woman from New Zealand, Finly, who was offering her cleaning services in exchange for room and board.

                  “Bloody kiwis,” said Bert when he heard. “The place is riddled with them. Bloody come and take our jobs. Haven’t we got more than enough of them here already? I am having a hard enough time avoiding that Flora, going on about her spiritual bloody awakening.”

                  “If you can find anyone local who would be willing to do the cleaning in exchange for a place to stay, I will be glad to consider them,” retorted Mater sternly. “But in the meantime this place is fast becoming a pig-sty and Dido is too busy smoking and drinking to see it.”

                  Naturally Mater got her way and a few days later Bert, still grumbling, agreed to go and pick Finly up from the airport. Mater assembled the family in the main living room.

                  “Now remember, the main thing is to be courteous. God only knows why she agreed to come to this backwater of a place, but we don’t want to put her off.”

                  ”Don’t we indeed?” smirked Aunt Idle.

                  “Yeah exactly, it is friggin’ weird I reckon. Why would she come here?” asked Clove, privately deciding she had better run a more thorough background check on Finly.

                  “I thought Finly was a boy’s name,” said Coriander. “That would be cool. A boy cleaner. I hope he’s hot. He can clean topless”

                  Aunt Idle, who had already been into the gin even though it wasn’t yet 10am, put her hand over her mouth and started to giggle.

                  “It can be a girl or a boy’s name and someone called Coriander is in no position to throw stones. And mind your language, Clove.” responded Mater tartly.

                  Clove rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. “Well as long as she doesn’t try and boss me around, it might be quite fun to have a slave to clean up after me.”

                  Prune had been keeping an eye on the window. “Shush, she’s here!” she shouted excitedly.

                  #3581
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Bert raised an eyebrow at Elizabeth’s obvious sarcasm, which unfortunately caught her eye and put him in the spotlight of her penetrating gaze.

                    “How about you Bert? Were you listening?” she asked, raising an eyebrow of her own to match Berts.

                    Finnly, always on the lookout for an opportunity to out do Liz, raised both of her eyebrows simultaneously; then looked quickly down, pretending to examine her nails.

                    Bert decided that in this case honestly was the best policy and replied “No. I was wondering if Prune had cleaned up the blood spattered corridor.”

                    While Liz was momentarily speechless, Finnley quickly interjected another line from the book she had hidden under the table.

                    “Then why did none of us hear the blood crazed howl?”

                    “Ah! Aha! I’ll tell you why nobody heard the blood crazed howl!” Elizabeth had become alarmingly animated, leaning forward and rapping sharply on the table with her cigarette lighter. “The walls of isolation that surround you, the windows you keep closed and shuttered for fear of a draft of passion, the fences of barbed trotted out dogma you use as protection ~ but I ask you, protection from what?”

                    “Buggered if I know, Liz. Can I go now?” said Bert.

                    #3576
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Corrie:

                      I wasn’t snooping, I swear, and I wasn’t looking for anything either, it just popped up on my side bar on Spacenook and caught my eye. I mean, the title was so peculiar it kind of stood out ~ “Martian Pig Pruning” ~ so I clicked on the link, thinking it might be a diverting Pythonesque parody of all the aliens and other dimensional vibrations bollocks that seemed to be the latest #trendingtrash to swamp the newsfeeds, because sometimes you just have to laugh and find the funny side.

                      #3550
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Corrie:

                        Funny how things pop up. While Clove was taking supper to the guy in room 8, I signed into Spacenook and the first thing on my perusefeed was an article about maps.

                        “Cartographies can be altered endlessly to reflect different priorities, hierarchies, experiences, points of view, and destinations.”

                        How syncy is that. There was another sync like that yesterday, after the kitten fell off the barn roof. I was just posting a photo of the kitten on Spacenook and glanced at the sidebar and there was an ad for a catnip garden memories of dead cats group thing there. I wonder if that dream I had of our old dog Lilly the other day was because the kitten was a remanifestation of her? Lilly’s name was supposed to be Delilah, that’s what it said on her papers, Delilah, but nobody ever called her that. We always called her Lilly.

                        Anyway, they come and they go, we’ve had hundreds of cats wander through this town, but they always come back. I saw a rat the other day and it reminded me of Boozer, the old sheepdog we had when we were little.

                        Funny thing was, yesterday morning I’d posted this poem by Mary Oliver:

                        “…. Tell me, what else should I have done?
                        Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
                        Tell me, what is it you plan to do
                        With your one wild and precious life?”

                        Made me feel a bit better when I read it again later, because I did wonder if I’d got there quicker when I heard it crying, when it must have been halfway done falling and stuck on a branch, it might not have ended up the way it did. It must have been meant to be that way I suppose. Well, she’ll be back. They always come back sooner or later.

                        Sighing, I refocused on the article.

                        “Maps produce new realities much as they seek to document current ones. Maps are always a going-beyond the space-time of the present.”

                        No mention of a room full of map covered mannequins in the Brundy place though.

                        #3539

                        Aunt Idle:

                        My hands were shaking so much I could hardly light a cigarette after reading the note. I got it lit and sucked in a lungful, exhaled right into the shaft of sunlight and froze. And I don’t mean cold, it’s hotter than hell, I mean I quit shaking and couldn’t move because that smoke was doing some very peculiar things in that sunbeam. Looked like Penmanship with a capitol curly P, written in smoke by an invisible hand, loop the loop of joined up writing and I could see the words, but damn, two seconds later I couldn’t tell you what I just read and by then the first part had wafted apart. So I sat there reading the smoke until the last of it dispersed, and without thinking took another drag of the cigarette. I’ll be honest, I wondered whether to blow the smoke over my shoulder instead, but curiosity got the better of me, and I leaned forward a bit and screwed my eyes up ready to focus and started exhaling slowly into the sun. Not a damn thing this time, nor the next, and I almost lit another cigarette right off the butt of that one. Just to delay looking at that note again I suppose, but I didn’t, I stubbed it out and picked up the note. The smoke distraction did me good, I was over the shock of it and now I was curious.

                        The note was written in letters cut out of a map, by the look of it. Or maps, hard to say at this stage. The letters were pasted onto a yellowing sheet of stationary paper with a heading embossed on the top: Tattler, Trout and Trueman. Nothing else, just that, no address or phone number, or indication of who they were. There was a brown ring stain, which might be a clue, and a short message. Made me jump when I saw the name at the bottom, because the H was so tiny compared to the ILDE it caught my eye as Idle, which is what the twins call me, and the D I D letters were much bigger than the I E R, making me think it was Dido, which is what the others call me. It’s Delilah but nobody’s ever called me that, although Prune called me Dildo once and got a clip round the back of the head for it. So the note came from Hilde Didier, and I’m ferreting away in my mind and I can’t think of anyone of that name, but it might come to me later.

                        “Mater’s acting strange, Aunt Idle,” Corrie burst into the room giving me the most unpleasant jolt it made me think I was having a heart attack until I remembered the note in my hand.

                        “Coriander, darling!” I gushed, admittedly uncharacteristically but I didn’t have time to think, swiveling round to her while slipping the note out of sight. I stood up and hugged her, deftly spinning her around while scanning over her shoulder to make sure the note was hidden from view.

                        “Bloody hell, not you as well!”

                        #3541
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          Funny thing was, none of this would be possible, if not for Liz’ impeccable release of new literary works. Despite her feigned struggles, she managed to release them like clockwork.
                          Prolific line-pissing writers like King had nothing to envy to her. She would document and expound on nearly every bit of news passing. As a matter of fact, most of her morning rituals were to document the press review, and make clippings out of the most absurd or mundane events, and somehow, weave enthralling tales with it.

                          The last past years had been the most flourishing ones, mostly focused on tales of social responsibility in magical gardens, civil disobedience in cetacean societies, and financial collapse of ayahuasca economy based Amazonian tribes.

                          Well, to be honest, the magic had to be left to the Finnleys. It was nor the endless cleaning nor the unnerving bluster that had them resign. It was mostly that they were literary agents in cover aspiring to more than a life of cleaning. For what Elizabeth had as gift of prolixity, all the Finnleys were hired to put it all together, while sworn to secrecy.
                          Of course, with each best-sellers, they had to find a new one most of the time.

                          Despite the occasional ill-temper, all of it seemed now like a well-oiled machine.
                          However, Godfrey was growing concerned about the last one of the Finnleys. Very concerned.

                          #3538

                          In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            The climb wasn’t too difficult, and the continuous release of oxygen of their insulated suit was still plenty enough to keep them going for hours. “Look!” John pointed out the spot, a few hundred meters below, on the other side of the edge of the caldera.

                            “It’s going to be quite a show” Yz said, pointing at the sky behind it. Aurora lights were starting to dance.

                            It took them twenty more minutes to get down to the stones circle.

                            As they approached, John was struck by a sensation, a mirage most likely. At first, he thought it was a reflection on his suit’s helmet, but a second look confirmed his impression. Under the solar shower, the huge stones seemed to glitter.

                            “Is this…?”
                            “Water? It looks like it.” John touched the wet surface of the stones, after the suit had analyzed it as non corrosive. “I’ll take a sample to the lab… Water in this place seems… out of place.”
                            “What about us?” Yz replied grinning widely. “What are we, if not out of place?”

                            John smiled, relaxing for the first time since they’d left the pod. There was little air to taste outside of the suit, but he could taste his surrounding, and enjoyed the wide wild rocks and stones that seemed so full of life under the dancing lights.
                            They sat in the centre of the standing stones.

                            “Johnny?”
                            “Yes?”
                            “Don’t you find fascinating that even water on Earth have been found to be older than the Sun itself?”
                            “Leaves one to ponder, for sure”

                            #3537

                            In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              Under the cold starlight, John enjoyed to drive on the dunes, off the well-run tracks, glancing back from time to time to check on Yz. He had spent many years in his youth following his mother’s husbands, as they were assigned his guardianship in turns, and would take him around for their various outposts assignments.
                              He’d learnt the topology of his land in much details, and had a few of his own favourite places. Without knowing, he’d name them like his ancestors would have of the unspoiled lands and mountains of ancient Earth. The Rabbit Head, the Meditating Monkey, the Buddha’s Butt… Of course, none of these names were official, but everyone would know exactly what place he was pointing at, even without knowing the geoquadrant designation.

                              Tonight, for the magical display of lights, he needed a magical place, and he knew just where.

                              There was a ring of old stones past the Buddha’s Butt. They were mostly hidden from sight, although the place was at a higher altitude and could be seen from afar. He’d discovered them by chance, two or three years ago. He didn’t come too often, as the access wasn’t easy.
                              The stones were nested inside a plateau of collapsed land, like an old caldera. They were huge boulders of unequal sizes, forming a quasi-perfect circle, more than two hundred meters wide. It felt doubtful they’d been erected by men, but somehow the eerie place seemed possessed by some sort of vibrant intelligence.

                              “I’m going to show you something” he told Yz after stopping the sand scooter.
                              “Of course you are. Don’t be so mysterious!” she retorted. “Where is it?”
                              “A few clicks up the hill, shouldn’t take long. Just follow me carefully and mind your steps, the stones are slippery.”

                              #3526
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                Another bang on my bedroom door, my hands suspended over the keyboard. “Go away Prune!” I shouted, exasperated. “If you bang on my door again, I’ll come out and give you such a wallop, now bugger off, will you!”

                                “It’s me, Corrie” came Clove’s voice. Walked over to the door and unlocked it. A chat with my sister might help me with this project. Unlike Prune, who would be guaranteed to disrupt my train of thought.

                                Locking the door again I tell Clove what I’m writing about. We don’t go to school, me and Clove, we’re what they call “homeschooled” but what that actually means in our case is that we’re left to our own devices most of the time. Aunt Idle asks us (when she remembers) what we’ve been working on, and as long as we’ve been writing something or researching something, she’s happy.

                                So when I saw the group project about alternative timelines to avoid the disaster timeline, I had some ideas. Well, to be honest, I didn’t have any definite ideas until I saw the other suggestions. All Americans, and all of them talking about changing the timelines by changing the results of presidential elections!

                                “Not much chance of a different timeline there then!” remarked Clove astutely.

                                “Exactly!” I knew Clove would get it, she knows were I’m coming from, but then, everyone knows twins are like that.

                                “So this is what the plan is, right: “The goal of this exercise is to discuss amongst the group and choose significant past moments, and then As a Group, focus on creating alternate histories, thus sparking alternate timelines. We should vividly imagine moving forward from those probability forks and creating a more viable and desirable future.” Oh, and this bit here: “ our current timeline is convoluted to the point where many probabilities are leaning towards a disaster scenario simply to shake out of the current focus.” And then all these suggestions about different presidents, and then this: “My suggestion would be also to consider how we would like our current time frame to appear,” so I’m thinking…”

                                “I’m thinking” interrupted Clove, continuing my train of thought, “Of all those states and communities that got with the programme ten years ago, and took their kids out of school and built those Earthships so they didn’t need money for water and electricity..”

                                “And started cooperative worker owned businesses like they do in South America….”

                                “And they all started a guaranteed basic income years ago, so everyone was doing what they did best, especially the kids, cos they had such great ideas and weren’t stuck in boring schoolrooms…..”

                                “and there was no poverty, and nobody without a home…”

                                “Yeah, and they all stopped paying taxes so there was no money for the military, and then loads more people stopped paying taxes too…”

                                “Good one, Clove!”

                                “So nobody gave a fuck what president was elected anyway, because they were all sorting themselves out, and those states and communities were doing so well…”

                                “Because they’d already been doing it for years” I added.

                                “…that other states and communities started doing it too.”

                                “So that it snowballed, like dominoes, and there were more and more of these places..”

                                “And they had exchange students and stuff like that to learn from each other, and shared stuff online..”

                                “So when the disasters struck, it wasn’t half so bad because there were already a bunch of people managing perfectly well without dollars or oil, and they could help the people in the disaster. Makes more sense that electing another blimmin president, huh?”

                                “Bloody obvious if you ask me” replied Clove. “Pity we don’t have basic income, did you see Mater’s face when she was talking to that debt collector?”

                                That made me laugh, remembering her waving the stick around. “Her face was as purple as her cardigan.”

                                In unison, we both starting singing Start Wearing Purple and dancing around, acting the fool. I had a purple wig hanging on the back of my chair, so I put that on, and Clove grabbed a purple feather boa off the coat stand. No shortage of wigs in this town, though god only knows why. Just about every damn trunk in every empty house is full of wigs.

                                #3508
                                TracyTracy
                                Participant

                                  “I suppose we could give her the rest of the day off, but then who would do the cleaning?” Liz replied. “I think it’s always best to distract oneself and keep very busy when one feels under the weather. It would probably help if we gave her some extra work to do.”

                                  #3493
                                  Jib
                                  Participant

                                    Soul loss and soul recovery
                                    Whenever you are in a situation with intense pain, grief, loss, or intense joy, excitement, you may lose part of your soul, or vital energy, it’s also called dissociation by the psychologist. You usually do it to make it stop, or it is an automatic action to stop the intensity of what’s going on.
                                    You separate yourself form an aspect of yourself, and you are not aware of it, most of the time. It can manifest as chronic fatigue, depression, feeling numb, addictive behavior, etc.
                                    In order to get back this energy, you have to reclaim it. And as a shaman, you do it through the process of soul recovery. Today you’re going to learn how to do it.
                                    It is relatively simple. First, you are going to go in the lower world, find your main power animal. Thank it again for all that it does for you and ask them if they are the one to help you in the process of soul recovery. If not, ask them to lead you to your soul recovery animal. When you get acquainted to this new animal, you can ask them their name, and how you can call them when you need them. Thank them for their help and presence with you.
                                    When you do a soul recovery, you may not know what you are going to recover. You may not really know what you have lost, or you may not be aware of symptoms. Just tell your Soul Recovery Power animal (SRPA) that you want to recover a part of your soul that you are missing at the moment. They’ll guide you through the process. Follow them, trust them.
                                    They may take you through different places or spaces and times to go find that lost soul piece. It may be from your childhood, from another life, or dream situations.
                                    You are going to be presented to that piece of your soul and you have to ask them what happen. Most of the time they are frightened and don’t want to come back. You have to convince them, and ask them what you have to do to show them that you’ll not do the same “mistake” that make them leave in the first place. It may require you change something in your behavior, in your attitude toward certain things, it might be simple or huge. Depends on what you find. And it’s up to you to see if you’re up to the challenge.
                                    you can also take some time with your power animals to get to know them better and learn from them.
                                    If you don’t know how to manage the situation with the lost piece of soul, you can ask your soul recovery power animal to help you do the “negotiation” part
                                    but you’ll have to do what’s required by the soul so that it comes back definitively sts
                                    If you still have time, you can go on a second recovery.
                                    And remember, this is not a race, take your time, don’t rush, enjoy the journey.

                                    Eric
                                    Before the music starts, I have the feeling of “Nagini” my snake power animal: it’s looking patiently at me with golden eyes. I also get the first impression of a spirit panda as a soul retrieving power animal. There are two aspects of it, a docile and friendly one, and another more fearsome, they seem to shift depending on his mood. As the music starts, I sift through few fleeting impressions (one of a lemur), then some stronger.
                                    The panda comes back but I also have other animals who seem to present themselves in order, as if in different directions, and I remember there are no rules as their number, so I let myself welcome them. The panda is on the right, it seems connected to childhood memories, (call it “Panda”) then, on middle right, there is a spider (“Anansi”), it connects to the jumping spiders I’ve seen a few times the past days, and
                                    one this morning I put outside instead of letting it drown.Middle left, coming from above and perched on a tree, there is a firebird/phoenix (“Fawkes”). There is another one, I remember a bit later that appeared further left, as if from the direction behind me, it’s an ape (“Hanuman”).
                                    The serpent circles around them. I have the impression I can choose any of them, and they will lead me to different realizations, and I have the impression of the buddhist emanations, where enlightened being manage to split themselves into many as one. So I decide to ride them all at once. Actually, I start with the first three ones, and as I ride on the land, I suddenly remember the ape which was very discrete initially,but seems to be willing to show me stuff too.
                                    The land we ride into is dark, almost volcanic in nature, as if scorched. There are trails that spread to different directions, and each ride goes down one of them. There are various visions, moments and memories from the past connected with strong emotions.
                                    At one end, there is a little boy that shoots magma out of his incandescent body. It irradiates the land through veins of lava, and as it cools down it darkens the land even more. He seems to be caught up in a circle of rage or fear, fear of never seeing the light again. I listen to him without words, and realize he’s afraid of letting go.
                                    I’ll show him the light is covered by his own cinders, and he needs to cool down and let nature grow back again around him, and I’m showing him I’m willing to help. It seems to resolve as light opens in the sky, and a tree starts to grow again… At the end, I seem to connect the scene to certain memories.
                                    There is another one that comes in, where the ape is doing a certain pose where it walks on its hands. The posture catches my attention, as if to remind me of something. I’m encouraged to turn around to see the world as it sees it. As I do it, the world changes and spins, and the music starts to indicate the end of the trip. I thank the animals and finish with the snake before leaving…
                                    the end
                                    well, it’s very condensed, there was lots happening
                                    It’s like I was doing many stuff at the same time

                                    Flove
                                    (no recollection)

                                    Jib
                                    I have difficulties stabilizing my attention first, there is this kind of veiled perception I’ve been having lately. As I call my power animal for soul recovery I have a strong impression of a bear and then a raven. There is a kind of snake too, and I also feel a wild boar. I refocus back on the whale and say I’ll come back later. The whale leads me in the depth of the earth to a magma chamber. It becomes scrambled again and I just take a moment to refocus on my penguin.
                                    First soul recovery
                                    I ask him to find the piece of soul that would be best for me to recover now, and we go fly above something. The penguin flies like a rocket, super fast. I soon find a kid feeling presence. I have no real visual, and I keep having visuals of lemur, or raccoon interfering.
                                    Then I feel that the presence is also camouflaging behind projections to be left alone. He left me when I was little, around 8 because the world seemed to disappointing. I have some difficulties at first to convince him to come back with me, and I show him what I’m already doing that’s fun and that’s worth doing and exploring. After a while, he agrees and I feel a nice warm feeling inside my belly as he is reintegrating me. I thank him for coming back. The only thing I need to do is take the time to reassure myself when the world seems too dangerous.
                                    Visiting the bear and the raven
                                    Then I decide to go back visit the bear and the raven.
                                    I’ve already seen them before and they seem to be there for me. There is an impression of power with the bear and also mother here for her kids. With the raven, it’s more a mystical stuff, and the power of observation and seeing through things.
                                    I am offered a kind of raven skull symbol of power and energy manipulation staff or something like that. I take it and it feels quite powerful, I have the impression the energy or the “spirits” would follow it when I demand it. Like make blocked energy move.
                                    Second soul recovery
                                    I decide to do a second soul recovery and ask the whale to lead me. I have the impression of changing plane, the focus is different, I am more on the middle world, and we go somewhere icy like Antarctic. Maybe near a shipwreck. There is a man, depressed and gloomy. I begin to ask him why he’s here, but he seems to want to come back and don’t ask anything. I feel very warm and loving. The drums begin to beat the return and I thank everyone for participating and come back. Saying I’ll take time to assimilate.
                                    Eric’s account remind me of a few stuff
                                    that reminded me a few stuff too because at one time I had to follow a spider and with the raven I flew over a magma land and the raven became a phoenix to be able to fly because it was so hot
                                    thanks I forgot that

                                    Tracy
                                    went down the stone steps, the unicorns on the left looked up as I passed. Zebra joined me from the right, said thanks but forgot his name! Then a white bear joined me, said his name was Waldo (or at least that name would do for now, impression)
                                    He was huge but was very light on his feet the whole time. Came to a tall tree with a single very red apple on it. The white bear scampered up the tree and I followed. Various other fruit but mainly the red apple stood out.
                                    At the top of the tree leveled out to a large plaza with gameboard design, the white bear demonstrated frolicking from one part to another playfully leaping in lightness.
                                    Flash to me as a small child being woken up in the night by concerned parents for nasty medicine for chicken pox.
                                    Same house but in the field behind, me as a small child alone by the wigwam of sticks dad made, frowning, alone. Next door to the neighbours pond, frozen over. White bear kept dancing on the thin ice part that we didn’t skate on, huge heavy bear, such a light step didn’t break the ice
                                    Zebra was hanging around incidentally, kept feeling reassuring warm breath and muzzle on my shoulder. Breathing restrictions started, left the pond, down a path in the woods, came to a fork. Went left ~ papers everywhere, letters, words, snowed under with words and letters, monkeys pulling sheafs and sheafs of letters and papers and words.
                                    Then a school of tiny silver fishes swan inside me and started chomping at all the letters in my solar plexus and spewing out coloured threads and ribbons from my mouth.
                                    Breathing difficult. (several times just sank into intense colours for awhile with no imagery, plenty purple and green). I started doing sort of swimming motions with my arms with the breathing and fishes, had a sudden blast of energy in the chest and then later a much stronger one just before the video ended.
                                    I should add the impression of less thinking/intellectualizing, less buried under a mountain of words, in favour of more purely physical expression

                                    #3481
                                    Jib
                                    Participant

                                      Second Journey ~ August 24th, 2014

                                      Duration 24 minutes

                                      Directions : Meet with your power animal, ask them to lead you to the upper realm to meet with your guide. Ask the name of your guide and what they will be likely helping you with. Ask them for your personal symbol and how you can use it. Then follow your power animal into showing you the potential development for the stories.

                                      Accounts

                                      Eric
                                      My snake animal guide appears very fast, I see its eyes first. It shifts into a powerful cobra, and fans out its hood into multiple heads, like Ananta (Shesha Naga), and says I can call him Nagini (like in Harry Potter, that’s also the playful name I give to the plush snake at our doorsteps).
                                      It wraps its multiple heads around me like a ball, and we woosh into the ground to what I guess is the underworld, it seems like a long coiled path around a sort of vortex, after a few moments in a sort of crystal cave, I’m a bit skeptical what we’re doing there, I catch a glimpse of a white horse from the back, so I guess Jib’s Conan is checking on us, and restate my intent.
                                      I go though the light of one of the brightest glowing crystals, and the travel resumes, this time like the giant snake wraps ourselves in coils around a column of rocks, and we climb that high mountain very fast. It reminds me of Mt Meru in Buddhism or the Immortals palace in the Chinese Buddhist tales (like in the 2014 movie The Monkey King).
                                      The place is like a beautiful platform/palace of giant proportions, with a golden light. When we arrive, the snake becomes much smaller, and golden too, and wraps itself around my left arm. It guides me to explore different places, a temple, a place over the clouds where there are dances, etc. I decide to rest under a tree and meditate and be open to possibilities.
                                      The snake shifts around in various forms as if to reflect the nature of my mind, a giant parasol, or a stream of many paths at my feet. It connects me to a picture I saw of a Buddhist painting where the mind represented as an elephant is led by the monkey brain around a snake-like path. I realize the person I saw briefly earlier is the guide that helped Sunwukong (the monkey king) and seems to be the guide I’m looking for.
                                      (I find the name later is Puti or Subhuti).
                                      When I mentally ask for a name, the name Pachacamac comes strongly. He shows me many things related to my symbol. As a spinning cube with the floating feather in the middle and the arrow pointing towards the heart. The spin of the cube creates illusion within illusion, the arrow wobbles but stays towards the heart.
                                      He shows me a chasm and how to create a bridge over the clouds, by showing me the mirror image in my heart chakra. The bridge is built inside. At the same time, I was trying to focus on the music to deepen the trance, and realized outside (one storey below) was Jib’s music played on the speakers, aligned with the one playing in the headset, although a few seconds off, the rhythm was perfectly in synch…
                                      He also shows me another image, of a deep well deep inside the mountain that we can see from above the clouds. The image inside is dark and fluctuates with the water’s surface, and also reflecting quite a small portion of the beautiful landscape around.
                                      He explains that the well is the world we create, the mind and the perception is the water’s surface. It’s the external world, while the heart is all that we perceive as we discuss.
                                      There are other things shared at a subjective level.

                                      Francie
                                      After I connected with my power animal, we went to the upper world. We went through water to get there until we came to land.
                                      I asked for my main guide.
                                      I think I took on the characteristics of my guide. by that I mean I felt myself become a different being, and then switched back and forwards between myself and the other. It was very clear. The other was masculine, strong, very alert, very watchful, powerful.
                                      I asked for the guide’s name and received the answer, Carlos.
                                      I asked for the area which the guide would work with me. I have had a sharp pain in my left abdomen under my rib for half an hour. I felt my guide reach in and do something energetically in that area. The pain left and has not returned.
                                      I asked for a symbol and saw what looked like a key-hole shape.
                                      There was a key too.
                                      It was a very particular shape.
                                      There was a door. And the key hole was up very high in the door.
                                      I had to reach up high to get to it. And I put the key in.
                                      I wasn’t sure if those were symbols.
                                      The key hole and the key were shapes.
                                      I was tracing them with my hand.

                                      Jib
                                      I settle in myself and arrive directly in a kind of lava world. There are stalagmites and magma puddles, it’s very fiery and earthy. Then I call my horse who just nudge my left shoulder, he was already there.
                                      I ride him first and take time to bond with him. Then ask him to take me to the upper realm to Michel. Without much transition I am there, I feel a definite difference of feeling and texture. I say hi and ask Michel if he can show me the use of my personal symbol or particular aspects to it.
                                      The he focuses my attention to the octagon and the connection with the number eight. He shows me how it connects with the musical octave and sounds as a resonator. It can also be used like the shamanic drum. The coil inside is connected with the circle, the spiral and the labyrinth. My symbol is a kind of labyrinth with the diamond representing the central room where the graal is, so to speak.
                                      He shows me other stuff that I don’t recall at the moment.
                                      When I realize that it will be all, I ask my guide if he can introduce me to another guide that can help me with the use of my symbol. He sends me in a direction that goes up in a cave world. There are faceless figures, I don’t pay much attention to them. When I arrive, the guide sits me on the ground and a journey inside my symbol begins. With the octagon connecting quite strongly with the lava and earth again. I am in a lava world again, which is strange. I ask the guide what is his name and I suddenly understand it is Athumbra the Dreamwalker from whom I’m fragmented.
                                      He shows me the connection of my symbol to the fire and earth, and the depth of the world. He suggests me that instead of focusing on the shape of the symbol I connect with how the different parts connects together and to other aspects of consciousness, and how they are representative of my own energy personality. Not try to look outside for an answer in a way at the moment.
                                      So I begin to experience the shapes, and it turns like a clock, take different colors, etc.
                                      This will be something I’ll have to do again.
                                      Then I ask my power animal to show me what would be interesting to me to explore in the story now.
                                      He shows me a nest and I connect it with the stork nests I’ve been talking about in the last comment and that I used in the quote of the week picture. Without consciously connecting the two. I’ve written the comment before making the picture.
                                      It will have to do with how the nest is comfortable but don’t make you learn much about life and your potentials.
                                      Then he showed me something related to ants and colonies, that I connected with Mars, the colonies of Mars. There is something about community and social network for me to explore.
                                      Then I asked him to help me decipher the energy transmission Eric sent to me the other day, and it had something to do with networks again and how we create a space of something through our relationships, the space of love, the space of friendship, and we create fields and connective tissues that we nourish through experience and attention and involvement.
                                      At some point in the beginning I briefly wondered what was happening with you guys and felt propelled into something like water and impression of struggling with current, there were two moon crescents holding together by their “backs”, and purple or pink colors.

                                      Tracy
                                      The Zebra walked towards me across a grassy plain then I circled him, floating, and we went down a slope through the trees, an old road paved with stones. We wound down and came to a great expanse of metallic pink water, like a wise (typo! wide) river.
                                      There was a guy in much heavy stone coloured rough clothes on with a very old face who didn’t look at me, he was on a raft with a long pole for steering. Asked his name and got Frudo. (was slightly skeptical that I got the name right) The symbol was like a clubs of cards, 3 circles interlocking with an in flow of the stem part. Domain was water, flow and fluidity (and dams, apparently).
                                      We went down with the raft on the wide pink river, and the pace increased and there were people of all kinds lining both banks, watching. The wide river came to an immensely steep and deep waterfall, but there were pools and much smaller waterfalls on either side of it. All the water was pink.
                                      We navigated from pool to pool on the right of the waterfall mostly, each pool had people, some of the pools were dammed, and some were more open and easily flowing to the next pool. Some dams were high and some pools had people looking over the edge at the waterfalls below their pools.
                                      In a pool on the right, a very fat pink baby was sitting in the middle, I picked him up and held him and asked his name and it was Ezekial.
                                      Then a fly landed on my right shoulder and I looked to the right and saw a scrunched up face of my mother, with a tight smile. My breathing started to get constricted and I saw mustard yellow mangle of tubes like intestines in that pool.
                                      Then there was a lot of fingers stroking and pulling threads out of the dam around that pool, like pulling soft pink wax. Breathing continued to be restricted, and some becoming vapour or mist stuff that wasn’t very clear or droplets leaping from pool to pool as an alternative route to surface pools and waterfalls….
                                      Then went down down down into a vast pool of pink water, faster and faster towards a narrow tube at the bottom, and then flipped over onto my back and saw the sun far above and rose slowly floating towards the surface.
                                      Several times I saw purple and light green.
                                      The breathing thing was interesting if not so pleasant.
                                      The personal symbol may be connected to the flow from pool to pool somehow.

                                      #3473

                                      “What are you doing Arona?” Madrake said in a distorted meowing voice. “We’re not splitting off again, are we?”

                                      Arona’s resolve was strengthened when she thought of her vision of the glowing Cup and the great turtle, and with great resignation, she took a turn further down inside the dark underground holevator.

                                      Seriously, Mandrake, why do I care for prancing poneys anyway. That deal with the Chamberlain was rigged from the start, he knew he didn’t have the Cup in his possession, but now I know it’s in my reach, so why should I wait for it?

                                      Mmm, maybe because I was becoming very fond of this other very flexible cat Mandrake though to itself.

                                      Mandrake was about to count his blessings starting with being rid of the annoying blinking Huhu parrot, but as soon as they landed, as if drawn by the thought, Huhu appeared again in a pop and walked to them bobbing its head in a disturbing manner.

                                      “Pst, Arona… Arona!” Mandrake tried to jump on the rocks out of reach, but the stones were slippery and he couldn’t get out of the parrot’s reach. “Aronaaaaa!”

                                      “Shoo, shoo…” she disappeared the parrot away with an annoyed flip of her hand. “What now, Mandrake. Make yourself useful will you, we have a turtle and a Cup to find.”

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