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  • #767
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      State of Marshall VS Vinya Grey
      extracts of procedure 5057TP on case of unsolved time-blink that may have interfered with the timeline – Aug. 5th, 2237

      — As you are certainly most aware, Ms Grey, local authorities of the T FGF P (Timespace and Further Geodimensional Flux Police) has recently uncovered a case of unexplainable appearance of a new species within the past.
      The genetic makeup of this species bears some rather crude indication of human interference, though no official authorization has been recorded on its behalf. Our investigations have led us to believe you may have more than a little to do with this incident, which is, as you are once again quite aware, within the boundaries of decree 5533 on allowed and banned interferences and seeding into the timeline.

      — Objection, Judge! Prosecutor Arkandiusz is trying to intimidate my client. No proof has been yet produced that may confirm or infirm these allegations.

      — Mmmm… Objection rejected. Please continue Mr. Arkandiusz.

      — Shall I remind Ms Grey that the voluntary or involuntary seeding of new species within other areas has most of the time been disastrous, which is the reason of the decree aforementioned. Precedents were numerous even when our ancestors were not even aware of the possibility of time interference. Rabbits in Australia, does it ring any bell?

      — Objection, Judge! We are not talking about deadly pests here, we are talking about severely handicapped goats! Jeeze, come on…

      — … Do you mean, the Fainting Goats of our annual Fair, Mr Frey?

      — Yes, Judge Cornwick.

      — Oh, that is most interesting… Well, perhaps after this long introduction you may want to introduce your first witness Mr Arkandiusz, Ms… Beryl is that?

      #1906
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Booked tickets today for Cirque du Soleil in Malaga for July 4th! :bounce:

        Quidam: a nameless passer-by, a solitary figure lingering on a street corner, a person rushing past. It could be anyone, anybody. Someone coming, going, living in our anonymous society. A member of the crowd, one of the silent majority. The one who cries out, sings and dreams within us all. This is the “quidam” that Cirque du Soleil is celebrating.

        A young girl fumes; she has already seen everything there is to see, and her world has lost all meaning. Her anger shatters her little world, and she finds herself in the universe of Quidam. She is joined by a joyful companion as well as another character, more mysterious, who will attempt to seduce her with the marvelous, the unsettling, and the terrifying.

        Check out the characters

        #760
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Elvira eventually reached the 25th bush on the left at Nutley Park with a bag of assorted garments for the near naked Becky, but there was no sign of her. Elvira investigated the rain drenched foliage, and deduced correctly that the bush had recently been used as some kind of camoflage cover by a taller than average person, mixed race and probably naked.

          Elvira chortled with delight; she had loved her days as a private investigator, all those years ago. Well, she said to herself, With a combination of forensic and physical clues, and telepathic and remote viewing skills, I’ll have Becky into some dry – and decent! – clothes in no time at all. Elvira stood quite still (in the torrential rain, which drew a few puzzled glances from the people rushing past), with her eyes closed and a happy contented smile hovering about her lips.

          Elvira was connecting to Becky, but she was picking up diverse and nonsensical impressions. A moose running up a flight of stairs, a monk sitting in the road talking about a cup……

          Pffft, said Elvira, no point in pushing it. Let’s have a look at the physical clues.

          There was an obvious trail of flattened wet grass footprints which meandered, at an incongrously liesurely pace, Elvira noted, in a random higgledy-piggledly fashion between the bushes, and occasionally in circles.

          Elvira set off along the trail with a spring in her sprightly old step and an aura of pleasant anticipation. She loved following a trail of clues! My, my, she said to herself, this is what I’ve been missing. Hhhmmm…..

          #754
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

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

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

            :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

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

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

            :fleuron2:

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

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

            :fleuron2:

            Auckland, New Zealand, a week later

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

            #726
            Jib
            Participant

              Going back to work on this bright Tuesday afternoon, Yann was looking at his shadow. He had had a hard morning, not because of the tons of work… it was a rather light day, not because of the harshness of his colleagues, they were all easy living people… well except his boss that made him think of Darth Vador at times… a strong threatening aura, feared by everyone. Though he never bothered Yann actually.

              He was having the weirdest feeling of appreciation of the shape of his shadow.
              He liked it.
              It was the shape of an adolescent, his fluffy hair and relaxed silhouette. Not worrying about the future, not thinking about the past. Just enjoying the warmth of the sun in this not so cold winter day.

              His attention was quite centered on himself, he was aware of much more stimuli than he had been used to, and it had been overwhelming. Especially concerning his ideas of how to get information on certain subjects or how to explore things. He was used to closing himself from the outside when he was focusing on his work, or on what he was passionate. Lately it had been 3D modeling, and Yurick had expressed many times the desire to help him, and he had been received quite harshly.

              No wonder he had imagery of server non-receiving data at work. It was quite clear actually. Clearer and clearer. Even his dreams that he had once considered to be quite obscure where simply so concise and precise. Dreaming about the ring primitive in the 3D software, it was dreaming about its own attention, focused on the outside, he was trying to reduce the inner radius of the ring to make a plain disk, and he wasn’t able to do it properly, he was forcing.

              Well actually he had done quite well, so centered on self he had been today…

              How he reacted was so different from how he would have reacted a few months ago. Now he was just appreciating the movement, the experience of this overwhelming centeredness…

              During the afternoon he got news from his friends Finn and Dory, and he had a good laugh. It was messages sent the day before. He wouldn’t have appreciated them then, but now he was so enthrilled by what they had written with Yurick. Another pure moment of appreciation to add to his experience.

              And now, it was news from their friend Malika who had decided to move into a new house. A taupe House, located in the Island City or Wilton Manors. The house had a tree behind it, and she was sure it was a dragon lair, with a mommy dragon and an egg! and many little playful dragons.
              It was planned for the week end. The moving in, not the hatching…

              Yann promised to be here in spirit and told her friend Malika that there was a small dragon connected to him in the herd.

              #692
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                It was a perfect year for mushrooms in the mossy green fields of the Upper Ubzich regions, and gaily coloured clumps of them glistened in the morning dew. The weak sun felt deliciously warm to Zhanochka, after the interminable months of frost and ice. She pushed her sleeves up past her elbows, exposing the milk white flesh that she (or anyone else for that matter) rarely saw, clutched her grimy skirts up above the oozing mud, and ran across the field for no reason at all, other than it felt good to run.

                Zhanochka kept running. And running……something strange happened to Zhanochka that day, the day she ran and ran…..

                It was, in retrospect, as if she had run from one world, into another one, a completely different world, and she was glad.

                #689
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  These are MY eggs! Nobody touches my eggs!
                  Oh come on, you’re not gonna make these ostrich eggs hatch Cathy… Better have them made into a nice big omelet for our guests… Fleur said with a tentative smile.
                  And why use MY eggs for that?! Moooom, she’s trying to steal my eggs…

                  What’s with all that fuss here? a coarse, yet sensual female voice said in the background of the kitchen.
                  Mom, she wants to make an omelet with the eggs that granddad gave me…
                  Calm down Catherine, will you… Is that true Fleur?
                  Err… Madam Wrick, I suppose it was only a stupid joke… Thing is that wasn’t such a bad idea… There will be quite a few guests tonight, and… she began to falter as the eyebrows of Dorean Wrick were taking a more severe look. Err… I’m sorry, M’am, I’ll send Raster fetch some food for a nice meat pie, will it be nice?
                  Perfect. That settles the matter then… Catherine, go back to your room, and let Fleur work. I’ll send you a maid to help you be prepared for our guests arrival.
                  Yes, Mum.

                  What a silly idea Theobald, her father have had, to give her step-daughter those eggs for her birthday… Big funny green eggs. He’d said they were ostrich eggs, but there were no ostrich in Mexico, as far as she knew. Of course, now the little girl’s only idea was to have the birds hatch and to mount them and ride in the slopes of Ireland.
                  This family was definitely insane, Dorean was thinking.
                  At least, she had thought her own branch of the family tree had been spared by the folly of her relatives and their attraction for occult and intangible things, but with that odd gift, it seemed to her more than likely that her father had followed the steps of his wricked brother… Or perhaps it was only an old man’s way of passing time. But knowing her father down-to-earth nature, that was not like him. He didn’t do things out of a whim, and there was probably more than met the eye having to do with the funny eggs…

                  A few days ago, shortly after New Year’s eve and stepping into year 2034, she’d had received an unexpected parcel from her cousin, Sean Doran. A couple of wrapped books, he was asking her to keep in store for him. She always had liked her cousin, though they had only met two or three times when they were children. Thing was, family matters were more a wrickage than anything else, and they had barely kept in touch over the years.
                  She had distractedly opened the big ornate leather-bound books only to discover they were blank. What was the purpose of all of this, she didn’t know. But unlike most people, Dorean wasn’t interested in others’ businesses. She would keep the books, whatever they meant.

                  And she had more pressing matters now.
                  Her guest were coming. Elvira and her demented husband were moving back, and were due to arrive tonight after a rather long expatriation in the lands of Russia. Having met that strange and impressive individual, the perspective of getting away in a foreign land leaving all the past behind, all of this had most probably saved Elvira from her depressive mood…
                  But she had been so isolated from her past that Dorean suspected that these almost thirty years abroad would have changed her profoundly.

                  #684

                  « … local time in Sydney is 5:55 PM, temperature on the ground is 55°F (23°C)… »

                  Seems like five fives… a hazy Mavis emerging from a heap of plane sheets said, still with her yellow hand-knitted blindfold on her eyes, probably for herself more than for the benefit of her bedazzled neighbours.
                  As no one was answering, she continued her monologue while the man near her was looking embarrassed, avoiding the gaze of the cackling woman.
                  You know, I’ve always got lots of fives in my life, I was the fifth girl of my family, born May 5 th, “Mavis”, my first name’s got five letters, and the coincidences go on and on, once you think of it, that is positively amazing, I daresay. German say five is “fünf”, so for me, it’s fun and play, when I put that in perspective… Still better to have that kind of outlook on these coincidences as they are piling up so well, don’t you think…

                  Still getting no answer from them, she continued imperturbably.

                  Oh, great, we are arrived… That journey was exhausting, not that I lacked any sleep for that matter, but you know, my legs got all swollen, and my bladder is playing tricks on me… Good thing I had these socks, you see, the vendor told me they were perfect for long-haul plane trips, not that I can see any difference anyway… Worse thing, if you ask me, was that rushing through the Japanese airport… I would not have made it without the help of this Spanish couple. Man was kind enough to push me on a trolley to the boarding gate… Now, where is this lovely couple,… hope they didn’t leave without me. It seems we all go to the same destination, how funny isn’t it? An angelic spa in a heavenly island… Sounds lots of fun… I can’t wait to see my friends here!

                  Mavis was now standing on the seat of the plane, to get a better outlook on the back of the plane, for any chance to see Jose Maria and Paquita, while most of the other travelers were in a rush to go outside, already reaching for their bags and switching on their mobile phones. Truly, as stout and short as she was, standing on the seat hardly made any difference, for she was barely able to see past the high seat, but she finally got what she wanted.

                  WOOOHOOO! I’M HERE! she started to wave at the couple, busy reaching for their belongings.

                  #681
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    New Venice, February 2034

                    Al had finally completed his body experiments. The results were encouraging, and would probably help understand more of some bodily processes.
                    Obviously he’d had some fun with them, these past few years —it was a nice way to learn more about himself, and to bring some of that knowledge to other people. Essentially, it was mostly to show them that what centuries of so-called “modern medicine” had done was to make them defiant of their own bodies. The mass creations of all these diseases not so long ago was still very much embedded into people’s imaginations. How ironic was that most of these diseases were coming from the body itself.
                    So, what Albert was doing in his experiments was to push the limits to show how greatly adaptive the body structure was. It was nothing different than what scientists of the last decennia were doing on laboratory rats with many uncouth cocktails of injections —except that the trigger was for the most part an internal projection, no needing great amounts of artificial adjuncts.
                    Becky’s sudden and impressive illnesses, shortly before her wedding had not worried him too much, because he knew that at times the body needed to adapt to new settings and environments, albeit not always physical ones.
                    Another thing he knew well enough for having experienced it was that distrust was the most difficult part during this adjustment process. Distrust of the body, of self and of course of others. It was a delicate subject and most of their ancestors way of tackling the subject had been to reinforce the distrust in one’s own body. Pills and antibiotics could do wonders, but they were not that innocuous when they were used as ways to tell one’s own body it was not behaving the way it was supposed to be. As far as the symptoms were sometimes elusive, their physical effects could be quite unpredictable, depending on the patient’s state of mind.

                    That reality play they were all writing to record their various connections has always been great fun. They had been toying with the idea of great changes, new frontiers of the mind and spirit and expansion of their consciousnesses.
                    It had started during Becky’s infancy, were she was inspired by her step-mother and a bunch of her friends who were doing all kind of meditations and strange “imaginary” stuff. And two years ago, she had found old digital archives and had been amazed at some of the changes that had occurred during so few of the past years of her own existence, much of them mirroring these “imagined” changes.
                    So, she had enlisted Sam, and Al and Tina to join in that reality play, to continue the projection into that “Shift” of the mind and see how farther it would take them.

                    But there was something that Albert had always found a bit far-fetched was Becky’s confidence in such strides in their expansion of the mind. Doubtlessly he was acknowledging that things were changing —the last discoveries in how magnetic fields affected DNA and thus the bodies had been even compelling enough to have scientists reassess their stance on how DNA and evolution of species worked. But he doubted that everything would be a perfect utopia. And pain was such an inherent and useful part of their human experience that he was not conceiving how any consciousness expansion would get rid of it.

                    So, back to Becky’s illnesses which were mirroring his owns, a great deal of them was also about accepting that pain not as a flaw in the way they were creating their reality, but as something real, useful as a mechanism of feed-back. Accepting it didn’t meant cherishing it and holding dearly to it, it merely meant they had to recognize it as a way of the body to bring back the diverted awareness into the body. Well, Al wasn’t sure it would always be necessary to have it, but for the moment, the species was not entirely accustomed to being present into the body. Perhaps when it learns that, pain wouldn’t be necessary…
                    To reassure Becky, he had reminded her of how as a child she had grown teeth, and that had been perhaps one of the weirdest most disturbing and painful experience children experience in relation to their bodies, but her parents had been telling her all along it was just growing. She just had to trust her body knew better. Or like Krustis the clown was saying, it sure won’t help a man if he notices a thumping sound in his chest to have it stop…

                    Well, in a few days time, it would be Chinese New Year. The large Chinese population of New Venice made it a very loved holiday, and Becky and Sean had decided to wed on that day, February 19 th where they would all step into the year of the Tiger.

                    How funny, Al was thinking, leaning over the railing of the balcony, looking at the sunset reflecting over the waters… These funny people that Becky had known in her infancy, the original FGF, they had seen New York under waters in their meditations… And that yellow car…
                    They had discussed a lot about this event, and some had been disquieted by that fact, fearing some impeding catastrophe. But all in all it had been a smooth occurrence. Authorities had been aware of the issue, and though they did not yet know all the mechanisms at play, they had been preparing some measures to avoid the city being flooded.
                    There had been lots of debates, as most politicians were advocating of building of dams to prevent the rising sea levels to enter the city.
                    But the studies of Dutch experts had been the most convincing, and New York City official soon decided to follow the example of the implementation in Netherlands of moving and adapting structures, constructions of buildings and plains liable to be flooded, and even buildings and roads construction on stilts structures, which Dutch had come over time to prefer to the dams, no matter how technically efficient…
                    Another imagery of adapting structures with the flow…

                    #678

                    With all these alternating aches in his body, Yurick’s legendary patience was easily worn out these past few days.
                    Of course, the news of his very near-future moving with Yann, which had finally come to be, was to be something he wanted to dance on, and rejoice and laugh with a delightful ravenous chuckle —or something a little less scary, for that matter…
                    But these seeming dysfunction of his body (of course they were seeming, it was only a transformation… like a baby growing its first teeth… and who said it was to be a bed of roses for the caterpillar, under the pretext that it was inside a warm silky cocoon?) were making him very sensitive to lots of things. Other people’s energies for once, even if buffering them was becoming easier now…

                    A loud ring from the telephone… Again, that woman looking for Océane. “There’s no Océane here”, he’d said, with the congeniality of a civil-servant who would have been disturbed two minutes before the morning coffee break.

                    Having hung up, Yurick was thinking… Those wrong numbers may be important messages from my essence.

                    And all he could think of… was that Yuki had definitely fingers too big for the dial buttons, especially if he was looking for Ogean!
                    Anyway, in a few days time, it would be another one’s trouble to pick up those calls.

                    #1882
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      Tracy: there is no righteously indignant icon
                      Francie: yes, well if there were, i would use it!
                      Tracy: I meant all
                      Tracy: slip of the tongue
                      Francie: oh well thats alright then, i am mollified
                      Tracy: hahahahhahahahahahahha
                      Tracy: maniacally
                      Tracy: maybe I should change my name
                      Francie: hahaah what to?
                      Francie: molly, molly fried
                      Tracy: Molly Baloney
                      Francie: mollocks
                      Francie: yes! do it
                      Tracy: hahaha no
                      Francie: no well seriously, what to?
                      Tracy: I will be Molly Maloney and you be Betty Mollocks
                      Francie: ahahhhaha
                      Francie: doubt it
                      Tracy: Baloney
                      Tracy: not Maloney
                      Francie: oh no i feel a new character coming on
                      Francie: oh its okay, you can’t get in
                      Francie: :yahoo_whew:
                      Tracy: hahah would you please introduce them into the story under my name
                      Francie: thats why!
                      Tracy: Molly Boloney and Betty Mollocks
                      Francie: you will just have to save it up
                      Tracy: well I might forget it, just make a note of it for me, as if you were Becky jotting down a clue
                      Francie: okay i will post it in random ramblings okay
                      Tracy: ok, just paste this part of the chat as a comment
                      Francie: hang on i will do it now
                      Tracy: no, this chat part in story
                      Francie: no i refuse
                      Tracy: thank you dearest Franci. You may print that too
                      Francie: I will do it in ramblings or nothing
                      Tracy: ok
                      Francie: take your pick
                      Tracy: thanks
                      Francie: ahahahahaha
                      Tracy: ramblings
                      Francie: okay hang on
                      Tracy: you have got me by the balls, thats why
                      Francie: it is quite rambly, i think it goes rather well
                      Tracy: yes, you are right as usual
                      Francie: where shall i do it to and from?
                      Tracy: um
                      Tracy: start there up til here
                      Tracy: right here

                      #1997

                      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        A cloud-assisted demented rewrite, just for fun…

                        PERPLEXED BY THAT PARTICULAR case, THE sheriff HAD HIS glassES floatING BEFORE HIS eyeS.

                        SOME mean rather weird beings… THE brotherHOOD OF magic NEEDED TO SEND Elikozoe INTO A space Craft TO CARE FOR THE boy WHO felt six motherSHIPS COMING IN HIS dreams.

                        DURING THESE moments easily FORGOTTEN, SOME others young legends WERE sent Aside TO answer AND bounce WITH alone aspects THAT wondered HOW TO keep focused.

                        THE trees WERE laughing “yeah!” THEY SAID, AS Anita FELT cold AMONG THE roseS randomLY SCATTERED.
                        SOME told HER ABOUT love, AS SHE asked WHETHER dragons REALLY seemed LIKE nothing ELSE SHE HAD SEEN BEFORE.

                        Chris turned wondering ABOUT nature THESE days WHEN everyone, Elizabeth INCLUDED, KEPT thinking WHAT THEIR hair looked LIKE FROM behind.

                        DEEP inside, SOME help began slightly TO COME TO THE lady AS SOON AS THE dark cloud HAD taken HER TO sleep. THE truth IN particular WAS LIKE A friend WITH purple COLOURS AND A skull IN HIS HAND, WHO sat WAITING FOR HER.
                        “let HOPE COME, despite whatever FATE bringS TO THE door! YOU must wait SOMETIMES, AS factS follow!”

                        Nice Tina WAS caught floating ON THE STREAM, AND moving ALONG IN A green jogGING GEAR WAS Joe, BOTH full OF IDEAS THAT gave THEIR friends AN experience NEWLY created. BUT THEY needed magpieS AND tried FOR THESE creatureS INSERTION TO work.

                        FOR Arona, ALL WAS happening ON Earth LIKE SOME important dream. IT WAS LIKE dancing IN A real play, WITH THE sea NEARBY.
                        A series OF dog-EARED BOOKS WERE NEARLY outside, AND deep INSIDE, SHE KNEW THE novelS WERE close TO surface OUR dimension, WITH HER head looking BEYOND, AS perhaps Yurick WOULD AGREE.
                        HIS heart often sounds interesting, BUT OF ALL THE ones SHE liked, IT SHOULD BE herself.
                        THE Duane SHALL BE rememberED, SHE thought, IN DUE times…

                        WITH THE goat, Anna suddenly giveS THE blue busy spiders SOME NEW reality, AND Kay IS getting hot. SHE HAD forgotten THAT handS COULD BE making names, AND SHOUTING HER CreEd, THE voice OF THE girl SAID IT matterED THAT THE story became shouted IN THE sky.
                        Eric WAS ENduring Sanso WHO loved THE sandY BEACHES.

                        STAYING clear THIS NEW year DEMANDS SOME self AWARENESS, ESPECIALLY ON THE yellow CHAKRA points, TO ALLEVIATE UNNECESSARY physical pain.

                        CLAD IN teal, SHE WAS waiting FOR HIS parents’ words TO HAVE moved AND TO BE connected. Franiel HAD FELT within HIMSELF four OLD fatherS’ ADVICES, AND HAD AGREED TO TALK TO Salome’S face AND ANSWER HER call THAT HAD APPEARED quickly UPON THE wall AND HAD BEEN wandering OVER HIS bed.
                        HE careD FOR THE past, AND THAT VISION WAS telling. IN THE morning, HE SAW IT AS A gift, SHINING IN SOME DISTANT island, LIKE A moviNG presence.

                        Yann VowED TO FIND HIS WAY IN THE soup OF linkS, AND FIND THE OLD godS’ energy THAT kept THE planetS MOVING.
                        HE heard SOMETHING, A FUGACIOUS moment following HIS ADMIRING OF THE beautiful weather, UNDER THE Glistening sun. A SINGLE dragon’S hands COULD nurse POTENT writing abIlITIeS, AND soon WOULD open GREAT awareNESS OF joy AND moveMENTS AND music WHICH WOULD MAKE HIM laugh OF ALL THAT HE WAS creating WITHIN THIS focus.

                        Tracy FEELS away OF THE action. IT seems QUITE human… NOTHING IS white DURING twilight, SHE noticed, AND FELT given TO understand.
                        AS MRS Bellamy, SHE WOULD HAVE stopPED LONG ago, HAD NOT come THAT powerful mummy.
                        WITH Georges startING TO APPEAR, worry BECOMES quietNESS FOR Jib, AND crystal-CLEARNESS FOR Sam.
                        MANY years AHEAD IN A GALAXY far-AWAY, ANOTHER Dory IS named AND readS ABOUT DR Bronklehampton’s WORKS.
                        HAVING TAKING leaveS, AND BEING gone FOR ALL, OLD Hrih DELVES INTO THE skulls AND HIS eyes SEE A next hope IN A book.
                        MovementS HAPPEN FOR Claudio already… THE world woke UP IN surprise.
                        A known sense OF TIMESPACE-travel APPEARS IN THE commentS, AS seen THROUGH light.

                        Akita’S body AND mind started TO ACT LIKE A saint AND FEEL strange under THE change.
                        “TO danGER, bugger!” WAS HIS decision NO longer… HE FELT warm… Towards THE worlds treeS, askING HIMSELF IF IT WAS A game, HE SAW TWO male children PLAYING against EACH OTHER.
                        THEY managed TO show HIM THAT THE Murtuane WAS familiar.
                        THE whole air WAS speaking. IT sort OF opened ITSELF SO THAT HE knew later OF THAT SPECIAL room OF TIME AND SPACE, AND HAD THE WIND AGAIN BRUSH HIS skin similar TO WHEN HE WAS seeing home IN HIS HEAD.

                        Felicity IN THE BEDlam SAW half-formS, COUNTING three OF THEM, INCLUDING Gustav IN THE saloon, AND Becky WHO WAS THINKING SHE WAS AGAIN IN THE wrong PLACE: A monastery!
                        SHE’D RATHER HAVE yourself BE A star, AND HERSELF BE HERE TO MAKE THE FUN postS AND playing lost.

                        Eight powers smiled: true saying!
                        THE sisters focuses IN THEIR caveS HAD SOME fine land TO PLAY WITH.
                        Apparently sound WAS key once, BUT THE VOICES IN THE night speak UNCEASINGLY, AND TO write SOME great stories, SPEAK strongLY. THEY seem TO BE feeling yesterday SOME perfect movements…

                        THE marmoset HAD FOUND A family, AND funny wordS TO process. IT laughed short GIGGLES
                        AS FOR myself, SAID THE cat TO Floyd, I’D create A party-LIKE life, WHERE I DO AS I please, AND LET paper WORK AND feelINGS AND desireS AND tryING AND tellING TO monkey.
                        THAT shapeD SOME fun, AND syncHRONICITIES AGAIN happened SHORTLY.

                        IN THE FLOWING water, “aum” SOUNDS RIPPLED IN A huge dear dance beginning TO REFLECT himself IN images. HE sighed AS HIS attention GOT INVOLVED IN THE trip AND HE remembered…
                        ON THE beach, obviously AWARE OF THE synchRONICITIES, THE creatures wanted TO CLAP THUNDEROUS applauseS.
                        LIVING THE dead GUYS’ ideaS…

                        #649

                        Carla’s next destination was a spot far North, more than 570 miles North of Shropshire, past the Highlands, to the castle of Malcolm O’Dolly, also known as the Crazy Baron

                        #646

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                        #1316

                        In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          January 4 th, 2008

                          A communication about legends, to complement what Yurick had connected to during his sleep, with ties with the dimension of Alienor, and possibly counterparts within his dimension

                          Starry sky, eternal and boundless waft of dreams and legends…

                          Many if not all of the physical dimensions possess legends. Legends of their beginnings, and legends of their ends.
                          The language which legends speak is a language of symbols, and though many of the receivers of legends are prone to erect them as absolute and faithful accounts of historical soundness, they are much more mutable and protean than what may be commonly thought of them.
                          They are connections, bridges from a locus (point in time/space) drawn as a frontier between what is known of the now, in which civilizations of these worlds are thriving, and a locus which is forgotten, or beyond the commonly perceived world.
                          As such, they essentially represent boundaries.

                          And of course, boundaries are only boundaries because they serve a purpose. Much like boundaries drawn on maps are not necessarily representing actual obstacles which cannot be physically crossed. These are mere perceptive frontiers, which tie in the various developments of history and societal relationships.
                          When the civilizations, or species, as you understand them, come close to one of these perceptive boundaries, there is an interaction with the very nature of the boundary, which is receptive to the inception of volition to cross the perceptive limitation.
                          And a process of reshaping and expending the borders takes place, by means of insertion of new legends.

                          Legends, in that way of seeing things, are not necessarily old dusty accounts sung by blind bards with jovian white beards. Not quite. They are much alive. They are created and recreated in the instant where boundaries of perceptions are being tempered with. Which makes it important to notice that they are translations of much wider movements in consciousness, spanning more than the physical dimension in which they manifest.
                          Many of the legends that humanity is aware of are very similar accounts, throughout your globe. And they are also projected in other dimensional areas vibrationally close to your manifestations.

                          You are currently fiddling with the legends of your ends of times, and that is the reason why at the same time, you are starting to create new legends. Legends of new beginnings.
                          In actuality, this is done oftentimes; each time a perceptual limit is crossed and seen beyond. The only difference here would be the unprecedented span of the process which is occurring now. The point where you are standing, prodding into the interactive frontier you have come across is not a single mere frontier, but a converging point of many of tinier, shorter ones. This also creates a singularity which makes the frontier respond with a sort of inertia. In fact, it is like a wide net of fine threads, which possess altogether a high absorbing potential for small energy bumps. Nonetheless, it will give way to a vastly expanded perception, as soon as the collective energy is focused upon, and steadily moving into the direction of pushing that protective envelop.

                          That process never ends, and during that process, new legends are being remembered. For the lands beyond the frontiers exists when you are aware of it, which in retrospect also means, it is created, or inserted as you are prodding the frontier.
                          In fact, you are, as you stand before that specific nexus point, being creating new legends, in that you are evaluating the potentials that you see fluctuating as a shadow world through the layer of a soap bubble, and have them blend with legends that you know of.
                          Your very lives become the legends of these potential worlds, and thus is the importance of your being at that locus of transition. You indeed come at that point, as much for making it possible but more so, to experience the transition and alteration of the legendary landscape. You are the bridges between a future which you are creating as you remember it, and a past which contains the clues that will be seeds for your new discoveries.
                          And that is a most rewarding travel, as you will come to see…

                          #618
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            Felicity, or the “Bridal Goddess” as she called herself, was most encouraging when Becky said she was after something “a bit different” for her wedding day. Weddings had been having a resurgence of popularity in the last few years, obviously it was not the solid institution it was decades ago, but many people still liked to exchange intentions for their relationship. Most regarded marriage fondly as a rather quaint institution from the past.

                            I will help you create your dream wedding! Felicity gushed enthusiastically. Most important is that you wear something you absolutely adore and that looks simply stunning on you for your special day. What sort of look did you have in mind?

                            oh, um tribal actually, said Becky, vaguely, suddenly remembering she hadn’t mentioned her plans to Sean. He could be a tad on the conservative side at times . In fact, come to think of it, had she even mentioned to him that they were getting married?

                            Fantastic! Demure tribal? Revealing tribal? I do all sorts of tribals, whatever you want!

                            Hmmm said Becky reflectively, well probably not demure.

                            No agreed Tina, not demure.

                            :fleuron:

                            A few hours later Becky and Tina were recovering from the ordeal, as Tina called it dramatically, over a cup of organic trim alpaca’s milk expresso Lucciato

                            Hey what’s this about a soup party? asked Tina. I couldn’t get much sense out of Sam, but he says you are helping with it.

                            Yeah it’s going to be great!

                            Well, just so long as you aren’t doing the catering, it should be great, thought Tina, shuddering at the memory of stuffed Nasturtium Blossoms and Locust Bisque Becky had served at their last get-together. Not forgetting the garlic icecream for dessert.

                            I heard that! It was healthy Tina! retorted Becky defensively.

                            Bugger telepathy sighed Tina

                            #1992

                            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                            F LoveF Love
                            Participant

                              Pain interesting …. :help: dark quickly, game change, lost obviously, bring bandages,

                              weird weather. :weather-few-clouds:

                              Whatever …

                              Franiel wondering … yellow color …. raft named random truth? Try move nothing. Perhaps heart speak sometimes quiet. Thinking energy….remember herself moments, process inside light, past help outside …. wait, familiar wall happening … floating mind sea movement.

                              Yurick noticed …. told mummy story, attention Bronkelhampton. :mummy: Joe tell sheriff spiders answer, bugger party!
                              Cold worry gone …. laughing. Dear bright cave, already connected.

                              :yahoo_rose:

                              #610

                              All he remembered was the name “Akita”… He was not sure that it was his name, perhaps it was not, but he had taken it as his own.
                              He’d been stranded on that island for so long he barely remembered whether he’d had a past before. In the beginning, he had taken an inventory of the passing time, but soon had discovered that days were irregularly long, and nights would sometimes last for more than one day, so that it was all pointless…
                              The toughest part had been to live in good intelligence —he couldn’t really say harmony— with the predatory hairy nest of the daughters of Narani. But at least he’d made clear that he was able to defend himself and retaliate if needed…

                              — Thanks to me, grunted a big dog half-focused, his head on his lap.
                              — Yeah, mostly thanks to you, Kay

                              Kay had appeared a few days after Akita discovered himself on that strange land. He was no common dog… In fact, Akita was wondering that it may only exist in his mind. Kay had been approaching him, more than he had tamed it, and soon Akita found out that he was no dog at all.
                              He was, as Kay had said, an inugami or dog spirit, able to shape-shift, and willing to bond with Akita. He’s said Akita his previous owner had died, and that he would have to die with him unless being adopted by another…
                              Akita had been reluctant at first, finding that there was something unclear, but he had agreed anyway… Better be with a faithful and powerful dog-spirit than die in the webs of the giant spiders…
                              All he had to do was to name it. And so he named it Kay.
                              Kay couldn’t be seen by most of the creatures in the forest, though the most sensitive could feel his presence. However, he could decide to take a more corporeal form, but that exhausted both Akira and Kay, and was rarely done. So most of the times, he was roaming the island in spirit form, which didn’t mean that he was powerless, far from it.

                              — I can sense something’s coming, growled Kay who took the shape of a big two-legged werewolf…

                              #597

                              “ As we have stated previously, these terms are quite limiting for explanation purposes. The terminology is not incorrect, by any means. It is only expressing a much, much smaller impression to you than, in actuality, these terms represent. If your interpretation of these terms is too literal, you may find yourself accepting concepts which have only been explained to you partially; for our explanation of concepts is only a minute portion of the entirety of any idea, or concept, or “doctrine.” Only playing, my friend! These concepts must be taken in at this present time, within your present understanding, to the intellect; and the intellect must be allowed to trigger the intuition, allowing a full circle of thought, so to speak; this full circle being a continuous flow of information to assimilation, to actualization, to creation”

                              Patel

                              Not AGAIN!! shouted Becky. For the past week every time she tried to open her blog page, it always opened on this old post of Patels. Usually, by a circuitous route, she did eventually manage to arrive on her most recent post…..but not today! That monkey Patel wouldn’t let Becky look at any other post but this.

                              Funny coincidence really that she’d watched the cartoon last night called Madagascar, starrring Patel himself as King of the Lemurs. Becky had to laugh. A rave party of dancing lemurs on ecstasy!

                              #596
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                Poêléed foie gras, goat tagine, roquette fig salad, sherry trifle, serrano ham, lobster in ginger…..

                                Manon was going over her holiday menu and lists, wondering how on earth she would manage to cater for all tastes. What a houseful it was going to be.

                                …..scallion soy sauce, steak and kidney pie, wild mushroom soup, ostrich fillets with dauphine potatoes, rhubarb crumble….

                                …..Cuthbert! OY! Manon grabbed the boy as he rushed past grabbing a hot mince pie on his way to the stables.

                                Here, take this with you, she said, thrusting a basket towards him, crushing the pastry he was clutching, and spilling hot mince all over his hand.

                                AAArrgghh! MaNON! Cuthbert licked his burnt palm and glared at the cook.

                                Manon gave him a swift slap round the back of the head and said, That’s your own bloody fault for nicking it in the first place. Go and pick the mushrooms for the soup, and some rhubarb for the crumble, and bring me some greens, too.

                                Cuthbert groaned, But MaNON……..

                                Bugger off and do it! Ask that Bill to help you, he just went outside, hurry and you’ll catch him.

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