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  • #1081
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      As soon as Finnley was out of sight of the potting shed, he ran like the wind towards the servants quarters below stairs. There wasn’t a moment to lose. Hector Coon would be arriving soon at Pilston and Plan 57 was about to be launched. Quickly Finnley unbuttoned his butlers jacket, dropped his sober grey trousers and inched himself into the pink tutu. Now all he had to do was lure the unsuspecting Sir Coon into the library….

      #1028
      1da
      Participant

        12:54:07 AM 8-10-08 1da Geolocation Time.

        wait. an entire day disappears. no matter the stars and crickets go on just the same. no waiting. on this journey there are places, wind and the night. stepping through the darkness I move slowly into the moonless night.

        the driftwood shelter far away. thirst becoming noticeable. the clear water is enough for now.

        rain begins to slash down. large drops that soak to the skin in a few moments. a hard driving rain at the front of the storm. leaves thrash about as if to escape from the earth bound trees.

        Stumbling into the brush, i press close to the trunk of a tall redwood and sink down. the dust of the day remains here. even the crickets seek shelter. The shivering slows. i begin to relax, slipping into a dream.

        an island. far away. the last moments of sun warm on my skin. a rabbit the shade of pink clouds against the fading light. the cave far away from my dream as i drift deeper into sleep.

        #898

        She was feeling blank. It was as if she had no memories of what had happened before. At least she had still the notion that she was a she… wasn’t she? It wasn’t really clear, as she had mixed up feelings. There weren’t any physical sensation in the place she was. Indeed, she was having difficulties finding herself. She began to wonder what was this feeling of her she was aware of. To what was it connected? And thus, she realized she was too focused on the question itself to get any answer.
        The letting go released a dam of sensations and informations. She was overwhelmed by all that she was and all that seemed to be thrust upon her senses. But the resistance was what could create pain, she knew that from another time where she was living the same thing. Resisting the communication was like wanting to resist a herd of fleeing raghlors.
        She was feeling a presence in all this mess, something familiar :-?
        Was that herself looking at herself looking at herself looking at herself looking…
        Her memory of what she was trying to do came as lightning. The sudden realization of her numerous tentatives at this exercise made her cry… would she fail again?
        She had to find these other aspects of her, put them into a common direction… but there were so many of hers! which ones should she call to follow her? Which ones would follow her, if any? She felt sudden despair coming from everywhen. Despairs that she was aware did not belong to her, but they were powerful, almost annihilating her will. Images of massacres of people she knew, of people that her other selves knew, massacre that she had perpetrated herself or that she was perpetrating… any sensation of time could fit.

        :yahoo_at_wits_end: :yahoo_doh: :yahoo_crying: :yahoo_cow: :yahoo_whew: :yahoo_skull:

        Despair was imprisoning her and she knew she already had failed because of that. It was shadowing her motivation, giving her that hollow sense of herself, shielding her from…

        :creating_magic:

        Asiir, is that you? The energy was familiar and the name was a translation in her mind. It was an anchor point in all these mess of hers.
        Asiir, help me!

        The feeling was faint, so far away. But as she was focusing more on it, she noticed her different selves were intrigued and gathering around it. And there they were together. A feeling of ecstasy filled her up… and out of her body herself was huge. The presence was gaining in intensity and it was as if it was her who was allowing Asiir’s energy to be expressed toward herself.

        HAHAHAHAHA a thunderous laugh.
        Startled for a moment she almost lost contact with Asiir. But their bond was stronger this time. She was filled with joy and self-assurance.

        At last, you are beginning to understand, Lola. We can go on and take the next step now.

        She was truly riding her dragon, :face-grin: , it was wondrous.

        Well, technically you are lying on the floor of the marshes of doooom, but…

        All of a sudden, everything was gone, she was back to her body, Asiir looking at her and nudging her left arm with her snout.
        WOW, what a crippled body! How many times did she tried? Would he kill her with that, bloody bastard… a feeling of anger was infuriating her, and filling her body up, heating it up. How could he possibly be so inhuman?

        May I recall you I’m a dead guy? and furthermore, my focus wasn’t human… I just appear human to your eyes because you want me to appear like that. You have no representation of how my species could look like, but I may show you…
        … soon.

        #878

        Old Narani is becoming too soft.
        While the attraction of the hole was intensely beckoning, Phurt had been appointed by a strange twist of fate to the guard of the prisoners by the Old Mother.

        Bugger Narani whisspered Phurt, why not just kill them, these stupid two-legged animals. Why the pain of keeping them alive? Good thing the daily dose of sedative venom had them quiet now. They would only scare the mooing preys. Stupid, stupid.
        Of course, it would be easy to just sink a little more than usual her sharp tooth into their neck so fragile. A regrettable accident…
        Phurt couldn’t help but smile a grin as wide as her hairy eight-eyed face. But she wasn’t known as the Doctor of Breath for nothing. Her mere breath could be as sweet as a jasmine scent or terribly deadly. She had never missed a target, never could have.
        She was no mere Spinner; how could the Mother have put her to such a slighting task. Degrading. For her, the most promising Hunter of her generation to be doing this while they all were securing the hole perimeter.

        She would have to go. Something was nudging her to move, something like a fluid water sound, that whispered that nothing could happen to those prisoners. No one would be fool enough to dare to enter the Nest.
        Ahaha, why would she care? Nobody would know. And the little ones would alert her in any case.

        With a prodigious jump, she sprung to the forest in the direction of the hole. She couldn’t be denied her destiny.

        :fleuron:

        Is it gone now? a voice whispered under a pile of giant ferns
        I think it is growled Araili’s voice Thanks to the Snoot’s power of suggestion, I suppose… The Snoot might find spiders eggs delicacy enough to help us in our rescue operation.
        Shall we go there now? Kay? Ready to go and report back if everything’s clear?
        Ready.

        :fleuron:

        Rafaela was not finding it very difficult to jump on the rocky slopes. It was only difficult for her to remember to stay physically focused so that Anita wouldn’t fall to a certain death. And of course, even more difficult to resist to the attraction of nibbling a few crunchy thistles and brambles that grew here and there.
        But Yuki’s attention was here to remind her, and so far, their progression had been smooth and easy.

        But all of a sudden, the small pink nose of Yuki raised in quicker spasms sniffing the air intently.
        What? What? asked Rafaela who almost forgot her focusing. What?! Did I fart or something?

        Anu who was having the time of her life jumping on the coarse back of the goat giggled at her clueless question.

        — I think the spiders are moving too. We’ll be reaching the hole before them, and the Snoot tells me they won’t be moving close to it. But they won’t let anything or anyone get out of it. Let’s hope dear Armelle will spot a path for our friends.
        — Not to worry, Rafaela said matter-of-factly, Army is good at spoohtting. She’s the best I know at that.
        — OK, let’s move on…

        :fleuron:

        Claude was finally seeing a pinhole of light, at a close distance. He could just continue to crawl out his way to the light, and he would soon be release. And to cheer him up, he reminded himself that no man nor beast he feared, with his phenomenal strength agility and speed he now had. Too bad he didn’t have any time to get a proper super-hero attire he smiled to himself.

        :fleuron:

        On Tikfijikoo, the Magpie’s energy maze-cloak was now lift. The fury of the cyclone was now in its full power, and the Magpies were starting their swift deployment.
        The item was left unguarded in the operation room, as far as they could tell, and in the chaos of the elements, surely a few magpies would be unnoticed.

        They had to move quick now. The portal would be opened soon too. They couldn’t come back without bringing “it” back with them.

        #876

        Oh what absoloote rubbish, giggled Elizabeth Tattler, taking another large sloorp from her 4th glass of red wine and putting large determined scribbles through the last chapter of the latest Noovel. It was the continuing saga of the Tifijikoo Island story. She really had to finish it, old whats-his-face was on the telepooh to her daily now, demanding to know when it was to be finished.

        More Sex! he had shouted at her last time. More sex, we want the bloody thing to sell don’t we!

        Well I have shut you up haven’t I, she snorted to herself, thinking happily of Dr Bronkelhampton passed out on the couch wearing a pink dress and mascara running down his face.

        More sex eh? Hooommmm, Elizabeth did not particularly believe in putting extraneous sex in her noovels. At the same time that character Veranassessee was annoying her a bit with all her indecisiveness. And what a bloody mouthful that name was. Was it too late to change it? hooommm probably. She had modelled her roughly on the cleaner, Finnley, quite an attractive girl despite her pooty face and superior, bossy ways.

        She vaguely remembered something a tutor at writing school had said to her once about writing sex scenes … what was his name? Emonel … no that was not quite right … Meenol! That was it!

        Make your writing detailed, with accurate depiction of suction noises

        Elizabeth broke into fits of laughter, slamming her fist on the desk gleefully and startling Robert X. (Unfortunately the fainting Mongoats had been banned from the building by that nasty Mr Arak)

        You know Robbie-pooh what is wrong with this?

        Robbie-Pooh, Robbie-Pooh, cackled Robert X.

        IT’S BOORING, The damn characters never do anything. Right well, time to fix that. She took another few slugs of her wine.

        :fleuron:

        Oh God, said Agent Gabriele. Who gives a shit about the Doctor or bloody magpies. I can’t stand this any longer. I must have you Agent V. He lunged towards her, ripping open her robe and exposing her naked body.

        You are so beautiful. All I ever wanted is you. That’s why I demanded this assignment on the Island … to see you again. I have not been able to get you out of my head. You’ve been driving me crazy

        NO NO, cried Veranassessee weakly, but her body said YES YES

        YES!

        Agent Gabriele kissed her on the mouth, making strange and passionate slurping noises, and, unable to resist any longer, she gave in to his need for her.

        ( Yes, Yes, YES! snorted Elizabeth, momentarily unable to write for laughing. Hooommm what about that Mahiliki? He was pathootic. Did he want the girl or not for God’s sake? )

        :fleuron:

        Mahiliki stared anxiously out at the storm. He could think of nothing but his darling Veranassessee. He must know if she was alright. He must go to her. He grabbed his car keys and drove like a madman to the airport.

        ( Hoommm, thought Elizabeth, I really don’t know anything about small island airports and planes. Well booger that, I will research them later on the internoot )

        You must fly me to Tifijikoo Island! demanded Mahiliki, holding the pilot (who had been sitting out the storm in a little airport building thingy ) at knifepoint.

        Are you mad? said the pilot. There’s a freakin cyclone, or hadn’t you noticed?

        Yes, I am mad, I am mad with love. Fly me there or you are a dead man.

        :fleuron:

        ahahahaahah, laughed Elizabeth happily.

        #858
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Sam looked puzzled at the flurry of new comments that had appeared like a cluster of ripe “groiselles”.
          Having been plugged on the Reality Play Channel, he had been enjoying the activity like a buzzing hive of frantic bees in the background, but decided to get back to his forging of a Jedi light saber.
          The recent didjeridoo adventures had given him some particular insights on how sounds could be manipulated to model matter, and he had decided to adapt a tutorial he had found on the network on how to craft a light saber from carton wraps and glowing sticks. Except that he would do it almost from scratch, starting with a jar of vegemoth…

          As for Al, as he couldn’t resist a peek, he started to wonder what this red currant frenzy was all about. He knew well enough “groseilles”, as his aunt would make delicious red currant jelly in the bayou. But “groiselles”, he checked quickly seemed to be an ancient variation of the word… How odd… Becky’s clue-sowing (a bit Cluseau-ing, indeed :detective: ) talent was really shining in her typos…

          #2024

          In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Within window, lady angels wonder
            Pink show kept egg focused
            Funny smile Tracy moose
            Food focus
            Dreams given starting hope
            Word

            #831
            Jib
            Participant

              After a look in her mirror, Patricia M knew she was perfect.
              Her honey blond hair was enhancing the fascinating power of her green copper gaze.
              She pouted outrageously and put some more lip gloss on. Yes, she was highly satisfied with her appearance.
              She stretched her short tightly fitting deep pink dress and admired her silhouette. A surge of excitation filling up her body.
              She was ready to do her next move.

              #827

              The sun had just come back on the Andalusian mountains. After a day of frying sun on the beach, and showers of cats and dogs (especially dogs), everything was still for a moment.

              It’s been a few days that Yurick and Yann had arrived at Dory and Dan’s house near Gibraltar, and they were beginning to feel like fishes in water —a little bit like smoked hot pink salmons somewhat.

              Last night was full moon, and among the howling of dogs around the room, they could at times feel the presence of their friend Finn who had promised to appear as a fishnet stockings sun-glassed trenchcoated sexy spy pop-in. So far, they only had got clues as to her presence, though they got the distinct feeling she was drawing closer each passing hour.

              In any case, life was different here, slower, and peaceful. The endless trail of pyramid shaped green mountains and rocky serpentine paths seemed to be each leading to a hidden network of long-lost treasures.
              Only Flove knew what they would discover on their way to Salitre…

              #2014

              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                mean Sean
                Sky felt fry
                Lady dance
                Yurick meant
                Start Earth remembering
                Thinking door
                Dream timeline
                … began
                pink help indeed body

                #818

                Veranassessee was not in a happy mood.

                The sight earlier in the day of Dr Bronkelhampton wearing his yellow wig, a bright pink dress which was several sizes too large for him, and carrying a chinese porcelain doll had disturbed her profoundly. She sighed, remembering how he had glared at her suspiciously and muttered to the doll he was holding in front of him as though it were some sort of a shield.

                He has totally lost it, but what to do?

                She had also spent much of the morning trying to avoid Sha and Glor. The pair seemed rather distressed about something … a missing dress was it? Veranassessee shook her head in annoyance. Good grief! She had neither the time nor the patience to deal with another of their foolish and pitiful concerns.

                Perhaps I should tell those stupid nincompoops that to get hit on the head with a coconut is another special beauty treatment.

                To top it off, Agent Gabriel kept slipping into her thoughts in a most disconcerting and bothersome manner. And where the hell is he anyway? she thought miserably, cringing at the memory of their last encounter. Avoiding me, no doubt.

                Bugger! she swore, suddenly remembering the arrival of the new guests and feeling a growing sense of foreboding.

                :fleuron:

                Twenty minutes later the disturbing vision of a fat woman in a tiny pink bikini waving at her gleefully did nothing to dispel her concerns.

                #1763

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  oh yes one more pink pixie synch … well it was more like a pink fairy … I did a series of children’s paintings ages ago and most of them I had given away, but I had one left. It is a pink pixie/fairy on a toadstool :yahoo_nerd: and Katie told me it is Emily’s 3rd birthday on the 8th April, so now I have someone I can give it to.

                  okay just one more birthday synch, the voucher is their father’s birthday and i just remembered it is my father’s birthday on the 6th April.

                  #816

                  “Phew…” said the plump lady to her trip companions “it really felt like this trip would never end…”

                  Paquita rolled her eyes to the sky, sweating as her and Joselito were moving the heavy luggage of the lady out of the hydroplane’s trunk.
                  Apparently, the welcoming committee either had not been aware of their landing, or simply had forgotten them. Nobody was there to greet them past the wooden pontoon, only the thuds of coconuts falling on the white beach.
                  One of them rolled towards Paqui, bouncing on the little waves of sand.
                  She leaned forward to get the hairy fruit, brushing the sand off it with her hands until she spotted something that instantly congealed the blood in her veins.

                  She shrieked at the sight of a blue spider under the coconut.

                  “Well, she seems dead enough” shrugged Mavis at the sight of the splattered arachnid. “Now, what do we do… I think I have a bathsuit somewhere in that piece of luggage” she said, designing a mammothesque thing that bore more resemblance to a military trunk than to any piece of luggage.

                  “Did the pilot leave us there?” asked a pale Paqui to her cousin.
                  “As soon as we got the last piece of luggage out of his plane… Guy didn’t seem to want to stay here”
                  “I wonder why… It’s such a gorgeous place…” Mavis was saying distractedly while plunging into her trunk occasionally drawing some outrageously gaudy piece of cloth that seemed like out of a theater’s props. “Here it is!” she finally said, holding a glittering hot pink latex bikini, so tiny it wasn’t leaving much to imagination.

                  Paqui and Joselito sighed of relief when the lean figure of a black haired smart woman appeared waving at them from the path leading to the island’s center.

                  #1760

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    More on pink, rats and passion fruits…

                    Just to complete those flovely syncs, here are some others:

                    • Yesterday I had the funniest dream about a big, hot pink, pet rat, which was wandering freely around (no way it could hide with such colours ahaha), and friendlily gnawing on my finger to show me he appreciated to be stroked… :yahoo_thinking:
                    • The night before, I found I couldn’t sleep and was thinking of the last of the two pomegranates we had bought last week, and felt an impulse to do some grenadine syrup with it. It’s full of little seeds, and the juice is very explosive like little pink pixies… And it looks very similar to the “passion fruit” Francie was talking about… Passion, Easter eggleton etc.
                    #1759

                    In reply to: Synchronicity

                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      SOME OF TODAY’S SYNCHS:

                      EGGLETON
                      reading a magazine in cafe, kept seeing the name Elise Eggleton … a journalist, seems to report mainly on appearance medicine type stuff .. (wonder if she knows about Dr B?) :face-kiss:

                      PINK PIXIES/PIXELS AND EASY
                      Jib mentioned this morning pink pixies .. pixels? Today a woman emailed with a request for an accommodation gift voucher. I have not done gift vouchers before as the whole thing felt a bit complicated to organise … however decided it would be EASY so said YES we do gift vouchers. I looked at the clock on the computer and it was 1:23 just to confirm this easiness. She emailed straight back and said she wanted to go ahead and could i send her one in electronic format? Well I felt a bit stressed by this and not very creative and under time pressure :yahoo_worried: so looked up gift voucher templates. There were quite a few, one was called PINK PIXELS. After trying all of them out I decided to use this one, and with some modifications it actually looks really good. :yahoo_kiss: thank you Jib for your help. (not so easy to post gifts :yahoo_sad: )

                      PINK AND POOH AND PANDA SYNCHS:
                      This afternoon i went to visit my friend Katie. This might not seem momentous but the thing is she is one of my closest friends but i have not seen her for about 2 years. She only lives 10minutes drive away. We did not have a falling out or anything, but I just stopped making contact with people and have been quite introverted. Anyway there was no sense of not having seen each other for ages or anything … just the strange thing for me was that her children seemed to have grown so much. The two youngest ones, Emily and William, both were playing with bright pink balloons :balloon: and even though it was a hot day Emily had bright pink tights on. William wanted to show me his book. There were two pictures he loved and pointed out for me .. one was of a Panda which he said was the “cutest picture in the book”. The other one he loved he said was “POOH” and he was quite delighted with this. Well yes it was a picture of pooh believe it or not. It was a design of a castle and showed a big “long drop” and a man shovelling pooh at the bottom of it.

                      RAT SYNCHS :mouse:
                      A short while ago I googled rats as pets, not because I wanted one, just out of interest. I found it fascinating all the anecdotes about what good pets they are and how intelligent etc etc. :agreed: I found it interesting as they are an animal which is commonly hated by many people. Anyway Katie told me that her other daughter, Ella, came rushing home from Kindy School the other day saying she really REALLY wanted a rat as a pet and is quite determined to get one. Katie was not happy about this. I was able to share all my positive rat information with her and now I think Ella will get her rat. :yahoo_nerd:

                      NUMBER PLATES
                      On the way home I thought how wonderful all the synchs were, and as I thought this I saw YES 57. For a short while on the way home i followed ERIC 1. I also saw BEEZ. Also HONEY8, which is another variation of the HONEYB one I saw. I do find it interesting all these bee related number plates within such a small area. Related to this, Sir Ed was on the news tonight as the Queen had a memorial service for him today at St Georges Chapel in Windsor Castle. (sir Ed was the original HONEYB synch on the day he died at the age of 88, he was a HONEY BEE keeper as well as mountain climber – this explanation is for Tracy who finds it hard to remember things)

                      555’S
                      still seeing lots of these, the last two evenings have logged on at 5:55pm

                      MISC:
                      Mr X bought me some cookies with hunks of ginger in them. Also I bought myself some passionfruit yoghurt. But I don’t think that was a synch really. I think I bought it because I had been talking about them.

                      oh that’s right, the girl buying the pink pixels gift voucher was also named Emily

                      F :heart:

                      #1756

                      In reply to: Synchronicity

                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        The last few days bees have been in the news. A beekeeper in the Coromandel is suspected of selling contaminated honeycomb. So far 10 people have been seriously poisoned.


                        COROMANDEL BEACH, VERY LOVELY PART OF NZ DESPITE BEE HAZARDS

                        This time of year the bees feed on Tutu which is poisonous.


                        HAMSTER OR RAT WEARING A TUTU. (Eric informed me that in France little rats wear tutus)


                        NATIVE NZ PLANT TUTU. DO NOT EAT!!! :yahoo_shame_on_you:

                        When I first read the story in the newspaper, i left the cafe and there was the HONEYB numberplate across the road, which i have not seen since Sir Ed’s death.

                        The next day the bee story was in the news again. This time the beekeepers name had been released, his surname was “Prout”. He had been operating for 5 months … 5 fun? hmmm not so sure if it is fun for the people getting sick.

                        I am wondering if it is a clue in relation to the Bronkelhampton saga … Plan B, pink tutus and supercilious prouts. :yahoo_thinking:

                        Did you know there was a world prout organisation
                        Yes indeed, they even have their own song. I found it when i was looking for the article and put in search words of honey and prout :yahoo_oh_go_on:

                        #801

                        The cold wind was blowing upon the marshes. The atmosphere was damp and dark with threatening gray clouds. A storm was approaching and Asiir was dreaming.

                        Her dreams were so strong that they were triggering many emotions in her rider. Since their bonding seven years ago, their link had grown stronger and Lola wouldn’t think of shutting it down even in those uncomfortable moments. They were one.

                        Lola was feeling a menace, some undefined threat coming with the storm, as if the storm was just the visible counterpart of what was preparing. In those moments, Lola couldn’t help but think of her family and her village… Her fist grasped tightly the grip of the sword she was holding.

                        Everyone was killed when she was nine. Her dragon wasn’t fully developed at that time and couldn’t help her save her people. All Asiir could do was shield her from them as she was shielding herself, not even thinking of it.

                        She sighed deeply, releasing the pressure of the storm and of the dreams. She’d learnt not to hold on the powerful emotional responses but to open herself as a channel of her dragon’s dreams. All she could do was let the energy flow through her. Was it Asiir creating the storm or the storm disturbing Asiir’s dreams? She wasn’t aware of the answer yet, but at times it had bothered her to think that her dragon could cause “bad things” to happen.

                        A chilly breeze and a surge of electricity. She grinned impishly.
                        It was the time of her lesson.

                        You’re late master. she thought to the shadowy figure behind her. She was feeling something different that day in the presence. You’re not alone. I can feel a different energy with you today…

                        The dragon growled in her agitated sleep.

                        Your emotions are dragon drenched again, Lola. I know you consider it a proof of your connection with your beast, but it may be far more damaging than you think.

                        Lola had felt a twinge at how Samira had called her friend, she was feeling her emotions rise dangerously to the point which she had learned she could not control herself. She had always wondered if Samira was seriously considering dragons as beasts or if she was teasing her, especially since she had let the connection develop in such a way.

                        You’re going to have a new teacher…

                        Lola’s heartbeat accelerated slightly, so slightly, but she could feel her mentor’s smile upon her interrogations. Was she leaving? She’d always dreaded such a moment. She felt the wry expression of Samira.

                        I’m not going away… you need a training that I can’t give you. You need to learn how to ride properly over your bond and not get consumed by it, and Noraam can teach you that.

                        A strange impression of connection with the new energy flew in her, making her feel quite uneasy. Such an intimacy was unusual with another human energy. Or was he human?

                        A sudden surge of energy made her wince. She turned to her mentor and was surprised to only see Samira in her stout armor. She could feel the strength of the other energy but she couldn’t give him a form. She was feeling nudged gently from many directions at the same time and realized that she was afraid of loosing her bond with her friend. Wasn’t she trusting her bond? Another chill, and the rain started falling.

                        You won’t really need all that Samira taught you during these last 4 years

                        The inner voice was almost inaudible, but still she could feel it was not a voice and that the communication was going through another pathway. The vegetation of the marshes and few rocks were shifting to an unnatural yellow tint, and the faint glow around her teacher was growing in intensity. Actually, all the objects around her was beginning to glow, the limits of their shapes were collapsing.

                        Lola was sill feeling the link with Asiir but it was thinning down in such an unfamiliar way.

                        I’m going to help you remove the veils that Samira helped you put on your consciousness when you first met. But first you need to renew the link with yourself.

                        She heard a vague sound of steel on the ground… had she lost her sword? She couldn’t feel her body. She couldn’t move as she was used to… but was it still something to move? The face of a man was forming in the energy patterns of the glowing clouds. Was he close or far away? Was he huge or of human size? Was she massive?

                        A pounding sound in the distance of her inner ear… a familiar call but she was still so far.

                        #755

                        — “Sha! I think I’ve had one of them bloody brainwaves of mine!”

                        — “You are the smart one Glor … ‘ang on, I’ll just light my fag then I can listen proper.”

                        — “Well you know how Vessie has been so good to us and I still feel a bit awful about breaking that bloody door down.”

                        — “We meant well though Glor. Our hearts were in the right places.”

                        — “They were Sha … but then her bloke being there and all …. well that dress she was wearing Sha, it barely covered her privates.”

                        — “She’s a native girl though Glor,” Sharon giggled, “She’d have grown up wearing them little grass skirts and not much else I reckon …. mind she’s ever so nice though ain’t she.”

                        — “Oh she is …. and there’s nowhere to buy clothes on this bloody island neither, she must have to make do, bless ‘er little ‘eart.”

                        — “It could do with a mall I reckon Glor,” said Sharon reflectively, “this place would really take off if there was a small mall.”

                        — “I think you’re onto something there Sha, oh that would be bloody marvellous I reckon, a small mall.”

                        — “Anyway what’s your brainwave then Sha? I’m all agog with curiousness.”

                        — “Well I reckon with all the eating and lying around we’ve been doing I’ve gained a bit…. what do you reckon Sha?”

                        — “You might have done a bit Glor,” said Sharon eyeing her friend thoughtfully, “you can carry a bit extra though, and it goes to all the right places on you, you look right sexy, I reckon our Harry would think so anyway”

                        — “Oh give over Sha! “ Gloria blushed and giggled. “Anyway back to my brainwave … well that Vessie is quite slim … “

                        — “A bit on the skinny side really, Glor, needs a bit of meat on them bones of ‘ers to be what you would call proper sexy like us, and very tall with it ain’t she.”

                        — “Yes athletical, most of them island girls are I reckon. Anyway, listen up Sha, a few of my things ain’t been fitting so well and …and ‘ere’s my master plan Sha …Da da ….” she paused dramatically, “I thought I could hunt out something nice for Vessie!”

                        — “Oh that’s bloody genius Glor! you’ve got a real kind heart you ‘ave! You’re a bloody saint even … did you ‘ave something special in mind?”

                        — “Did I what Sha!” Gloria’s eyes were shining with delight at her own generosity. “You remember that pink frock, the one I wore when you and Harry got ‘itched, with the wee roses on it. Well I bought it with me! I thought you daft fool! when I packed it, what you taking that bloody thing for? … I reckon it was my psychic abilities I got ‘anded down from my Aunty Philly, God rest her soul, made me bring it.”

                        — “Oh you’ve still got that frock! That were bloody gorgeous …. well bless your bloody heart Glor!”

                        — “Well its got sentimentical value of course,” said Glor looking serious. Her voice lowered, “ Between you and me though Sha, I do feel for that poor girl. I mean she’s pretty enough .. but she’s got no bloody idea how to make the best of what she’s got. It’d be a bit on the short side mind …. but I don’t think she’d mind that, not if that last dress is anything to go by, and I’m right handy with the needle and thread if it needs any fixing” she paused for a moment thinking, “Sha! I think I’ve ‘ad another bloody brainwave! We could give her a full beauty makeover, the bloody works, with all our beauty know-how … that lippy she was wearing ..” her voice trailed off and she shook her head sadly.

                        — “Wrong shade of red weren’t it,” Sharon nodded understandingly. “She’s going to have to make a bit more effort if she’s to keep that bloke of hers.”

                        — “Well I’ll ‘ave him any day,” giggled Gloria

                        — “Oh you’re bloody wicked, you are Glor! If your Joe could ‘ear you now! …. ‘ere you’ll ‘ave to fight me for ‘im though! … ere,” she said looking around and lowering her voice conspiratorily, “maybe we could have one of them threesomes!”

                        — “Oh stop Sha, you’re too bloody much you are!” spluttered Gloria, barely able to control her mirth. “Serious now though Sha, that Vessie might be a bit overcome and shy like, with all our generousness and kindheartedness, we have to make sure she knows we ain’t taking NO for a bloody answer!”

                        #745

                        Arona, my dear?

                        The silky voice of Malvina resounded in Arona’s ear, while she was meditating on the implications of the story Vincentius had told her.

                        — Yes?
                        — May I borrow you Buckberry and your sabulmantium for a few moments?
                        — Oh sure, no need to ask… Though I don’t think you require my permission for Buckberry, isn’t he free as I am?
                        — Oh yes he is, exactly as you said, free as you are

                        Arona could have sworn she felt a winking energy rippling through her flesh, making some unfamiliar electrical currents crawl underneath her skin. She would have said she was thoroughly disliking it, though she wasn’t really sure if she was.

                        — Oh, Malvina added as if an innocent afterthought, we are moving by the way, perhaps you may find interesting to join us for the homationing ceremony. You may learn some more about your sabulmantium.
                        — Well, why not, answered Arona having no idea of what a homationing ceremony could be…
                        — Very well, please join us in the main entrance, where I am playing the harp. We will be waiting for you.
                        — I’ll be there in a second.

                        So, they were moving? Speak about implications… Arona muttered, stroking dozing Mandrake, who had feasted on too many of the moorats crawling inside the moisteous cave tunnels.
                        I guess I’ll take this astounding elan as a hint that I’ll be going alone she said. A yawn for all answer.
                        Considering it was Mandrake, that was almost a mark of distinctive affection… or was it rather of affectionate distinction?

                        Moving? She didn’t want to move, not yet, not like that… And to be honest, with all the stuff in that cave, she sure didn’t want to help pack all of this, be it by magic. What an impossible task.

                        Vincentius the nanny was taking care of Yikes, so she was confident should anything happen, he would be alright.

                        :fleuron:

                        On the outside of the cave, the dragons were all lined up, as if waiting for some unknown signal. Leormn first in shades of teal, and his spawns, Buckberry, with the most florid and baroque hues of purple that one could imagine, and the two facetious Heckle and Jeckle in shades of emerald, looking unusually calm.

                        Malvina, with Leo the little marmoset on her left shoulder, was playing her harp, while Irtak was accompanying her playing a mouth harp.
                        Some drums had been disposed around, and quite naturally, Arona felt like beating the measure on these, getting slowly and slowly relaxed by the music and guttural sounds produced by the throat singing dragons.
                        She almost laughed and broke the meditating pattern when she let the memory of Sanso come into her awareness. What a shame he’d missed that, that would have fitted him better than her.

                        Slowly the sounds stopped, and Malvina very gracefully rose from her stool, and greeted Arona with a loving hug. Her flowing robe was a tender orchid hue with laces of thistle pink, and her silvery peach long flowing hair were giving her the aura of a princess.

                        — Wait, where are Georges and Salome? She said, are they already gone?
                        — No, they are waiting for us at the new location, she said with a smile… Now, Leormn will start the ceremony.

                        Arona almost said Wait again, in anticipation of what was to come, and finally decided to let it flow. The serene look of Malvina and her motherly smile was of a nurturing reassurance.

                        Outside, in the grassy lands, the dragons had all grown wings and were apparently ready to take off. A pile of conic shaped dirty sand was standing in front of the entrance, that Arona had never seen before.

                        She could feel Buckberry answer her unspoken question without even a word being uttered. It is soil from the cave, and we will use it now.

                        Arona watched the dragons rise in the sky full of damp gray clouds, and wondered what they were doing.
                        They are doing two things, Arona answered Malvina (again that disagreeable habit of reading thoughts, couldn’t help but think Arona, wishing there would be some World around where such thing wouldn’t be so easy), first they are checking what kind of creature are staying with us and following the movement, continued Malvina, ignoring the remark, and second, they are drawing with that sand from the cave a circle to enclose the area we want to move

                        Arona didn’t dare say the explanations were making her even fuzzier, so she nodded as if abreast of what was going on.

                        Popping sounds of the dragons blinking in and out to get some more dirt almost made her dizzy, and she forgot the strangest feeling she had when she thought she heard “the area we want to move”.

                        — Now, continued Mavina, the sabulmantium.

                        The dragons were now all back, and the pile of sand had disappeared.
                        Arona’s attention snapped back to herself, and she handed the fine object to the lady. She couldn’t help but notice the glowing eyes of Irtak, who apparently was very eager to see what would happen.
                        So he will move too, she thought, hope his father won’t be too sad… Why did she felt it was a separation from this place she had found she was liking…

                        — If you look closely, said Malvina to no one in particular, but Arona took it for herself, you will see how easy it is to come back if you feel so inclined.

                        At her touch, the coloured sands in the sabulmantium’s transparent dragon shell globe started to move. And all could see the cave being formed, with all the little people, dragons, glukenitches and even Leo and Mandrake… They were all here, enclosed into a circle of sand.

                        — Now, if you will follow me… said Malvina who traced on the ground a curvy symbol.

                        And very slowly, as the whole sand scenery inside the sabulmantium was turning in a round, they all felt as though they were dissolving into the air. Yet, they were all solid, and the interior of the cave was still too.
                        The only thing that was moving was the exterior, twirling and changing, getting out of focus, and moving erratically at the beginning, and then getting close to a focal point. Some fine tuning was occurring.

                        And in a snap,
                        The landscape
                        Was
                        In all its splendor…

                        — Greetings! a smiling couple at the entrance of the cave said to the people inside.

                        #715

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

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

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

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

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

                        Sheesh, sighed Becky.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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