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  • #90
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Franci, far too busy herself to start a new discussion, has asked me, on her behalf, to start a Quiz section. Let me put that another way, Franci and I were…oh hang on, news hot off the press, Eric has a quiz plug somewhere….

      Test your grasp on the storys plot! Have you really remembered all the connections? Can YOU name who is whose focus? And what about the timeline, do you really know? Test yourself here, in the coming posts.

      #1985

      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

      TracyTracy
      Participant

        I DON’T feel dragons focuses. I WILL head THERE later, AFTER THE treatment. THE trees ARE GROWING whatever money YOU WANT. WE call IT create-YOUROWNMONEY. DOES IT synch WITH yourself? IT’S A young sync FOR joe WHO liked STRUGGLING against POVERTY. I BEST BE gone NOW TO skin SOME lemonS during THE blue magic DAY. SHIPS away everyone! HAPPY NEW year!

        :bounce:

        #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…….

          #562

          Now who the bloody hell is Alfina… Al was finding Becky’s obliviousness dangerously contagious…
          Of course, Alfina… He had seen her in his dreams at times, in the form of a splendid she-wolf named Iona.

          She’s also Aina in Yurick’s timeline… his future focus Janice whispered to Al, and smiled as she was seeing other probabilities forming in other dimensions in which Iona played an interesting role…

          #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.

            #547
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              “Of course, as soon as they had stepped into the powerful magnetic field generated inside the T.R.A.P., the reality around them was transphormed as if they all had been into a huge deFørmiñG mirror, that they could shape with their strangest thoughts.

              Obviously, they had all started to hallucinate some funny stuff…

              It was happening so quick, Sam noticed.”

              Hahahah! Becky actually laughed out loud. Sleepily, she hoped she’d remember to make a connection between the sheriffs frog accident and the T.R.A.P. trip when she was feeling more alert.

              #545

              Arona was showing Yikesy how he could play with the sand in the sabulmantium and form it into shapes. Leormn had very kindly, as he had pointed out himself, produced another sabulmantium. In this latest model the sand was all the colours of the rainbow and Yikesy was immediately entranced.

              Good grief, said Tina, What am I doing? It is way too early in the morning to be working on the play. Becky, how do you spell Sabulmantium? Al would know, but he is in the bathroom brushing his hair again. He is going to be prettier than me soon.

              [Al sneaked stealthily into Tina’s comment with his sumafreak powers and surreptitiously changed the spelling to the standard spelling of sabulmantium, giggling at how he loved doing these kinds of creation pranks. Perhaps he would remind Tina later that there was a glossary somewhere in the play…]

              #1972

              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

              Jib
              Participant

                =)) what an omen :))

                quintin anna telling rose gave opened wondering sighed growing yourself laughing eyes mandrake particular key gift creating yikesy color game happened

                #542

                The old abbot Hrih, was coming back from the gardens of the Monastery, the soil dampened and muddied by the heavy rains of the season sticking to the sole of his sandals. Hrih Chokyam loved to be reacquainted with the rawness of nature, and the fluidity that the rain provided to the ground by transforming it into malleable mud.

                He was bringing back vegetables for the dinner’s soup, and was amazed at the fact that even though he had felt so close to the earth, barefooted in his sandals, he had not even a drop of mud on him.

                He had delayed his choice for much too long already, and the not so subtle pressing of his main confident Aum Geong to officially elect his successor was making him unquiet. He was deeply trustful of Aum Geog, and of his sincerity as a Holder of the clear Light that was being tapped into, channeled and refined by the Monastery’s spiritual endeavours.
                But Hrih was feeling that Aum Geong’s views were slightly too narrow for the heavy task he was wanting him to carry on.
                He was too good at creating structures and rules, and Hrih felt that even if all done in good intent, it would be taking the risk of chocking the great outburst of powerful energy that was lying at the very foundations of the Monastery.

                The young man that he had noticed a few hexades1 ago, though very discreet seemed bright and very dedicated to his task. He had been greeted by all, and had soon felt at home. Franiel, as he was named, was under the tutelage of Jog Lam, a very wise (albeit young) monk that Hrih had adopted some years ago as the parents had been abandoning him a young baby at the eternally opened doors of the Monastery.

                Hrih had made a decision. He would not play favourites. Seeing the blank black Meditation Wall, an idea crossed his mind. He would announce at the dinner that the monks willing to do it could do a short poem of 3 stanzas where they would express their highest truth on the Meditation Wall…

                :fleuron:

                1 On that part of the Duane (the planet where Mount Elok’ram is), time is divided in groups of six days or hexades, each being attributed to one of the Elder Gods: Ghört (Airs) Nærvel (Waters) Agnima (Flames) Selvaniel (Woods) Margilonia (Earths) and Lejüs (Forgotten). The names or the days are Ghordië, Narduë, Agduë, Seldië, Marduë, Shandië.

                Name Element Quality Hexade
                Ghört Airs Male Ghordië
                Nærvel Waters Female Narduë
                Agnima Flames Female Agduë
                Selvaniel Woods Male Seldië
                Margilonia Earths Female Marduë
                (Shaint) Lejüs Forgotten Male Shandië
                #537
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  ‘Ask DDT’ was becoming so popular that plans were being made to recruit more ‘dead guys’. The online phone-in radio show, featuring channeled Dead Dick Tracy, was swamped with callers lately, and despite increasing the length of the show to an incredible 5 hours, dozens of callers left disappointed, their questions unanswered.

                  #534
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Well, to me, it was rather obvious it was a bleedthrough from one dimension to another… sighed Al, who had now half-long teal-coloured hair in perfect shape, as he was filing and shaping his nails turned back to a reasonable size.

                    Oh, that FLOYD treatment did well on you marveled Saint Tina.

                    FLOYD what?? looked back Becky, who was still fumbling into Sam’s hair, at the sound of the strange word that might have been a clue.

                    FLOYD: Focus Lots On Yourself, Dimwit that’s the name of the treatment… It’s made of extracts of Fuckus Rapidus, a new plant that has been blooping in Russian taiga recently. It had covered a whole region in a fortnight. People wondered what they could do about them, but apparently, some old crone found an interesting use for them… But we’re getting side-tracked, aren’t we?

                    Oh, this is fascinating Becky said, wondering if she would look better now with a mane of luscious raven hair on her beautiful dark-skinned head… What’s the name already? BOYF?

                    No! BOYF is the exact opposite, it’s Blame On Your Friend it’ll have all your hair and nails fall in a few days, even your pubic hair I fear… I still don’t know what’s the use of that though there might be some customers for it… :-? Al was puzzled.

                    #519

                    Claudio pulled himself together and bent over the dusty trunk. Of course it hadn’t opened on its own, he was imagining things. The contents were wrapped in an indigo shawl. Claudio peeled back the cloth, sneezed, and pulled out a jewelled dagger.

                    #515

                    That Abe sure is ugly as a burnt boot and crazier than a run over coon, aint he, said Isadora, one of the saloon girls who Twilight didn’t cotton on to much. The other girls laughed.

                    Twilight was real fond of old Abe, and truth was she was feeling right tetchy and pernikity and itching for a fight, and she weren’t much in the mood for dancing that night.

                    And your brain cavity wouldn’t make a drinkin cup for a canary Isadora. So why don’t you just shut that big old stupid mouth of yours before everyone cottons on to the fact that you are studying to be a half-wit.

                    Why you are nothing but a no-good little strumpet, screeched Isadora, lunging at Twilight and trying to grab her blond wig. Twilight stepped nimbly out of the way.

                    And you aint nothing but a stupid little buckle bunny, taunted Twilight. You got nothing better to do then follow those rodeo fellows around?

                    Snakes Alive! exclaimed Madame Butterbutt. Will you both hold yer tongues and stop yer bitching. And will you get a hurry on Twilight. Yer ain’t even dressed yet.

                    Isadora started crying. That Twilight started it, she snivelled.

                    Sooner i get rid of this damn one horse town the better, muttered Twilight under her breath. She touched the jewelled dagger lodged between her breasts. Those damn liquor breath cowboys better not mess with me tonight.

                    Old Abe, propping up the bar, chuckled

                    #1955

                    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      mother perfect create, let mind self care, real beginning inside, focused, great, easily …

                      nice trip! getting story, already morning tell night making, finn managed against loved ago family focuses.

                      eyes far, surprise yourself! connected, crying, quiet.

                      dear Armelle, whatever experience smiled, gift noticed.

                      #499

                      Thanksgiving, 1847

                      That last business trip in British Honduras had proven fruitful to Aldous. It had almost made him forget about the blue bull of the Disperso family.
                      Because Aldous was a collector. No one truly understood what were his motivations, but he was driven by the highest ideals. Some treasures weren’t deserved by the profane, he was thinking as he was munching on a tender juicy turkey leg.
                      He belched with profound depth.
                      Yes, he was doing everything with utmost depth and dedication.

                      Take that blue bull for instance… A gift from Indian officials he had managed to have them bring here. Its real place was in a zoo, with a small fee at the entrance of course, but most importantly some information on how it was acquired and by whom. Definitely not in the farm of some hillbillies just because they have happened to win that stupid rodeo contest.
                      In any case, he would put that right again in due time.

                      Let’s think of more pleasant things. Like these mahogany traders who had came into contact with remote Mayan tribes. Mahogany was nice, but Mayan treasure were even more interesting.

                      #497

                      Hank, the saloon pianist, was hopelessly in love with Anna.

                      But she had so many wooers, I hadn’t dared say how much he loved the blond dancer. For fear of public ridicule mostly, as he didn’t think he was very good-looking, with his horse-face… Not that she really cared with all these men having gone into her bed. But he couldn’t take the risk. Better a life in her shadow than taking a chance and spoil everything.

                      He had always been here to care for her.
                      When that young one had came to dance too, he’d been the one to make it easy for them. Or he thought he did…
                      What was annoying Anna the most was that the newcomer would be using a blond wig and that might eclipse her. Of course, that wasn’t what Anna had said, but Hank knew her well enough to understand.
                      He was the one coming up with that idea of Twilight as a stage name for the other one, keeping the shining Dawn for Anna. Like sisters, yet worlds apart. Apparently they both had found the idea great, and even if for Hank, Dawn and Twilight were different movements of the same seesaw, for Anna, it was pretty obvious that Dawn came before Twilight.

                      When Anna had been fat with her blue-eyed baby boy, he had been providing her some shelter for some time. It was so obvious for everybody that nothing could happen between them… Anna was oblivious, trying to get herself a proper husband. She had almost convinced that Jo that he was the father. Hopefully Hank had thwarted the attempt. He had his own idea of who was the father, and that wasn’t something to be proud of.
                      And Hank had better keep his mouth shut, as the guy in question wasn’t one to allow being tickled on such sensitive subjects.
                      In the end, Anna got fed up with all his attentions, called him a sticky leech. How ungrateful…

                      Now she was with that old bloke… A fat half-bald guy with long unkempt greyish greasy hair who had lost his wife, eloped with their former neighbour. The story had provided a good laugh to everyone who was well aware of it. But somehow Anna took compassion for that Manuel — who was nicknamed the Bar Rook due to his pressing penchant for alcoholic beverages.

                      Hank was finding Twilight more interesting… Free of romantic bonds and dazzlingly beautiful as she was growing.
                      Once in the beginning of her representation he had found her crying behind the bar, after having been hauled around by Anna once again.

                      She had told him an interesting story about her wig. It was a gift from her mother’s foster sister. The two women had suckled the same Ol’ Granny Lucy and had kept very close over the years. But her mother’s foster sister had a tough life, and she made a business of selling her golden hair to make wigs. Twilight’s was one of those. A gift from this aunt, which was all the more dear and precious to her. She had said to Twilight that it would draw to her good fortune, and fame too…
                      It was easy for Hank to imagine that to become true.

                      #491

                      Illi woke up with a start. Phew, what a nightmare! Dusty trunks full of grinning crystal skulls, farting mummys blowing bubbles in the sea, huge omelettes in colours she couldn’t name, and UGGHH, Becky shuddered as she recalled that awful blue spider ‘health’ treatment…..

                      #473

                      Beattie and Leonora ordered another two gin and tonics. The longer they had to wait for Bartolo, the less they minded waiting; the generous measures of gin and the friendly banter with the locals in the venta was warmly pleasant and convivial. Bartolo was the ‘runner’, the man who knew about houses for sale, or available to rent in the valley, and he was several hours late.

                      Jose Maria had been eavesdropping on the conversation, and suddenly had an idea.

                      #471

                      Oörlaith was picking star-thistles buds that were growing on the ruins in the Marshes. She had always felt attracted by the putrid Marshes, for many reasons.
                      There was something in her own demeanour that made creatures and people comfortable around her, and she had always felt in herself that natural balancing and accepting qualities that makes a good Healer.
                      But it was a complex matter, and her choices of explorations had always stirred much incomprehension in the various people she had met over her life. And she had met lots.

                      Of course, the first ones where her own parents. They were opulent burgomasters of one of the major towns of Cromash Tur, and from the date of her birth, Oörlaith was destined to marry one of the Warlords of these regions. Something that was sound and portent of good fortune, as her parents kept saying. Warlords were always in need of fundings for their expeditions, and in exchange would be providing a modicum of security for the commerce and other activities. It was thus all good for everybody. Good exchange of practices.

                      But very early in life she had known her path was not that one.
                      Nothing as plain and simple… and boring! one must admit. Her parents would have not, though.

                      As far as she remembered, she first had a living proof of her potentials when she healed a small bird back to life. A miracle, for the poor thing had been maimed by an rabid chipmog pillaging birds nests for eggs, and throwing the little hatched bird off the branches. Chipmogs were no more evil than the bird she knew that, and their show-offy nature was even a blessing in disguise, as she had been quickly alerted of the incident.
                      She was four year-old.

                      Only later did she became aware of how she could best learn to develop her magical potentials. Her parents wouldn’t have let her know about such things as how to become a Grand Sorceress, for they did not really know much about it, and also for it was considered unfitting to her rank. “Simpletons”, she couldn’t help but think.
                      But the day she became aware of the legendary Island of Mörk, she instantly set her goal to be counted among the best of their Learned Ones, whatever the price for her.

                      And notwithstanding her relatively young age, she got by her own to the Island, and was trained there too… But then again, it was not as easy, as she rebelled against some of the Laws of Magic passed down by the Teachers, Laws that were thick and dry as a century old grimorium full of abstruse formulæ.
                      Hopefully, she ended up with misfits as much she was, her dear sisters Roselÿn and Malvina.

                      When it was time for them to part on their own adventures, she again surprised many (but not her dear sisters) by stating that she would settle near the Marshes. The legends surrounding this place, as well as the huge potential for practicing healing in one of the most difficult environments were immense incentives for her.
                      The Teachers had warned her of the immense energy that filtered in these lands, as it was a coordinate point where things had already gone awry in the past. She had almost laughed at them. Of course she was aware, that was all about that. Definitely not for the faint of hearts.

                      Her companion Andarión, who was in his/her preferred shape a majestic water dragon, as wise as it was a crackpot at times, had been aware of her intentions as soon as they had first met. They had chosen each other quite purposefully, though she was not entirely aware of her role in these discoveries. But undoubtedly he was an asset.

                      And as she was picking her mauve star-thistles, humming like a raving madwoman, her sharp eye was on the look for the legendary golden one which would mean the dawn of a new Era…

                      #1491
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        If you feel like adding new icons, you sure can do that by yourself.

                        1. Go for instance into Google Images and say you look for a goat icon (seems daft, but that was the first thing on my mind ;)) ) – Just type goat gif for instance and look for the small-sized images.
                        2. locate the address of the image by right-clicking Copy Image Location
                        3. paste into your comment surrounded by exclamation marks !http://www.vpsingles.com/pics/goat.gif!

                        And here you go, with a daft goat icon:
                        :goat:

                        NB: of course (if the images are free to use and reproduce) you could also upload it onto your focusphere blog images for instance too, so that it is safe for future use, and doesn’t steal the bandwidth of the other websites…

                      Viewing 20 results - 1,101 through 1,120 (of 1,209 total)