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  • #1259

    Australia, Uluru, Dec. 2035

    Sam wasn’t very fond of the Ooh dimension adventures; he didn’t yet have inserted a focus (or foocoos) here for that matter. And he was too engrossed in the City creation planning to design a few parks there anyway.

    He just had his first night under the stars, on the freshly built wooden floor on top of a jujubaobab tree in the middle of the park where he could see the patterns he wanted to insert on the gardens. It looked a bit like the French gardens in the Versailles gardens most of his focuses liked so much in the past. He was aware of Yann, his shifting focus, who was precisely visiting the gardens at that same simultaneous time, with friends and family.
    He laughed when he projected to him, and overheard a discussion where Yurick was pointing to a typo he made about the Jeff Kuuntz expo that was there. Decidedly, Yann had the same dislike of the Ooh dimension, preferring the Uuh’s.

    When he started to go to sleep, the feelings started to blur in a strange mixture of imageries…

    :fleuron2:

    Jeff had strange dreams that night. He was singing Tumuuld to a certain Elizabeth who was speaking all funny, and playing djudjuriduu on the treetops, surrunded by inflated magunta colured balluuns…
    Sometimes it tuuk his breathe away how life was strunge, but cuul.

    #1927
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      On the subject of other focuses I had a blinding revelation in the
      kitchen last night. As usual with my blazing flashes of illumination,
      they are hard to form into words, and when I do try to get them into
      words, they look so screamingly obvious, like D’uh, you mean you
      didn’t realize that yet? LOL

      Anyway, the moment was far clearer than the following words, but I
      managed to get a few words out in chats to Eric and to Dawn which I
      snipped together:

      (bearing in mind that the focus directs so the question
      of ‘directing’ essence is another choice of puzzle peice of the
      individual puzzle game at any moment)

      To connect to an individual focus is but a baby step towards being
      able to comprehend the interconnectedness of everything that you
      create and that it is all in fact you. (beginner stage as it were,
      keep it manageable)

      You draw to yourself parts (focus points/other focuses of All that
      is) of the whole that are at that moment useful.

      All of the characters in the story I write, for example, are my
      focuses in a manner of speaking, as are all the characters in
      anything I bring into my world my focuses if I choose to _see for a
      moment from their focus view point_. Adding another focus is an
      analogy in a way for adding another focus or point of view to mine.
      Dividing the actions of adding focus viewpoints into sections is
      useful in order to comprehend the scope of possible actions, but only
      initially, and as more actions are experienced objectively, the
      sections and labels become limiting and confining. (but they do keep
      it manageable to some degree)

      Everyones puzzle game is their own, and the same puzzle piece (or
      other focus) for one, would fit equally well into a completely
      different puzzle game of someone elses because all of the surrounding
      puzzle peices of each individuals puzzle game are created in each
      moment and are chosen for their relevance to that moment. Likewise an
      individuals puzzle game is a new one in each moment and the puzzle
      peices are interchangable within the same puzzle game, depending on
      their relevance to the moment and the chosen surrounding puzzle
      peices.

      And on the subject of trusting, doubting, confusion etc:

      We are here shiftING, not shiftED, this is what we are choosing.
      With the variety of viewpoints we have, the shifted and the unshifted
      and the semi shifted, there is always something new to notice from
      yet another new perspective. Why not get really enthusisatic about
      the ride itself instead of planning how to float through it with the
      least fuss ~ it’s more fun on the helter skelter with it’s many
      perspectives and view points than on the mill pond for those of us
      who choose shiftING.

      At least now we know that what we dont know is there to know.

      #1253
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Godfrey, I seem to have rather alot of Felicity’s. I had no idea there were so many,” Elizabeth said to her friend and publisher, Godfrey Pig Littleton. “I don’t know which Felicity is which now.”

        “Well, which Felicity did you have in mind, dear? Felicity the downstairs maid? Or Felicity the DDT celebrity channeler?” asked Godfrey with a smirk. “Oh, was it perhaps Felicity the bridal goddess?”

        “Oh stop! Now I’m thoroughly confused again.”

        “Well, give me a clue old bean, what is the year in question? That should narrow it down.” Godfrey suggested.

        “Are you mad?” screeched Elizabeth. “Are you mad? The last thing I’m likely to remember is what year it was, you know I always get the time lines all wrong. Well, you of all people should know that, Godfrey”.

        “Well since you mention it, Liz, there is the question of the unlikelihood of portable channelvisions in travelling circus caravans in the year 1856, and I can’t help wondering how you’re going to rectify ….”

        “Don’t you keep trying to rectify me, you old bounder! I have a plan for that, don’t you worry.”

        #1246

        The two roses of Jericho had almost completely dried up, furled again into a tight ball exhaling a slightly pungent odor.

        Yurick was impressed by the genius of this plant, which could die and “resurrect” countless times, while spending most of its time in this dried up state, only waiting for some water to revive it.

        Perhaps essence was a Rose of Jericho too; he meant his wider self, he could feel it springing from the moisture of new prospects and challenges, then slowly crawling back to a state of balance. These last past days were a sort of clearing of the rest of the waters of the year. Things were looking a bit shriveled on the outside, but you could feel life and impetus was there, if only dormant…

        Funnily, these two didn’t have any names, unlike Sha and Glo the aerial plants, which were still kind of resting on an empty beige egg carton upon the white toilets in the bathroom, where light, moisture (and aerial nutrients) surely never failed to float around.
        It was funny, he thought all of a sudden; looks like the little hairy plants are travelers upon a big iceberg… What a funny story this would make.

        So, the roses didn’t have names… If they were essences of roses, what would be their focuses?

        Well, what was imagination telling him? He could easily imagine them as sort of strange mummies who would dry up into balls of dried flesh and sinews and being revived sometimes during the flood seasons. Actually with the news of Venice (and next Rome) being flooded if there were some old mummies suddenly revived from old times and prolonged lyophilization, that could be a place to start. Well, they probably would have a hard time coping with all the changes and the pace of this time.
        Alabama or Louisiana would be fun places to have some too… Funny mummies…

        #1234

        Gloria had volunteered to go fetch whatever thing she could find to feed the measly fire burning in a ice crevice. They were starting to get a bit hungry and the watermelbomb once exploded weren’t giving off much to feed on. She was starting to hallucinate delicious roasted penguins on a fire, with a slice of bread and whale lard, and a smoking cup of algae tisane…

        “Golly, this is gettin’ sick! The little buggers are so cute…” she mused, fondly overlooking the flock of penguins on the shore, some diving and catching fish, others nursing, some gliding lazily on the glittering ice.

        “Now look at this!” she said “SHA! SHA! Com’ere!”

        :fleuron:

        “What the ‘eck!” Akita couldn’t believe its ears.
        “Weeehoo! We’re goin’ome, and on a cruise mind ye!” Mavis was beaming.
        “On a frigging iceberg! You can’t be serious!”
        “Oh don’t be such a party pooper Akitooh, it’s perfect!” Sharon said
        Not even trying to be reassuring, Mavis echoed “Yes! Remember BBC talkin’ about it years ago; just another mad project they said. But I loved that! Mad projects ye know… never thought I would see that in my lifetime. Guess the project has been funded after all. Drifting bagged icebergs to Africa through the Indian Ocean! Now that’s a plan!”
        “And look! this one has got propellers, and a little platform,… and a satellite dish!” Sharon was inspecting the behemothic plastic-bagged iceberg on rockets which was bobbing up and down, still anchored to the nearby whale-watching base.
        “Hope it’s not teleguided by aliens though…” Gloria said a bit wearily.

        “Well, I suppose it’s our best option for now” Akita was trying to be appreciative of the ladies efforts. “And how do we hop on that thing?”

        “Oh, that’s easy! Bring the ropes girls!”

        #1233

        When he had been hit by the blow of the watermelbombs and the furious lady he had come to rescue, Akita found himself in a strange peaceful place. He was getting bits of what was happening, but the will to resist and fight seemed vanished in a distant scene he was only distantly aware of.
        He was seeing Kay, his spirit dog beside him, beckoning him to another place of white luminous and warm peacefulness.

        “Am I dying” he asked, feeling the answer to the question wasn’t very important.
        “Don’t be silly” the dog said mentally “Just let go for a moment, it’ll make things easier for you to get out of this place to another one you’d prefer”
        “I’m not sure going anywhere is so important, being here reminds me of something long forgotten”
        “Yes, you know this place, you’re drawing to you some memories of others of your focuses, explorers from your time and also ancient dwellers, in a very very distant past. These living memories will help you.”
        “You were there too, configured differently but I remember you from there”
        “Yes” the dog nodded “you had a pack of dogs in one of these explorer focuses. I was the alpha one, see…”

        Some scenes moved in the white foam sprinkled with diamond dust like he was seeing through openings in a crystal cave. All was so clear it was elating.

        “But we’re never going to get out of this place, not without a boat, a plane, not without a compass… and not without a brain!” he was being drawn back to where his body was, wrapped in the warm snet, jumping on the back of the snow scooter. “These women will lead us to a sure death, and pretty fast!”
        “Just relax, even if they don’t give that impression, they know what they are doing. They focus on what they want, and they trust. They can’t see the dead-ends you are seeing. Sometimes you get caught up in those other memories of yours. You’ve read adventures of Antarctica explorers, most of them were drama, but it doesn’t have to be the same broken record now, you’re going to love that time if you choose to…”
        “They’re so focused on themselves it’s hard to believe you. They wouldn’t see a leopard seal as a threat even if it was at their throats!”
        “But they wouldn’t even draw the predator to them in the first place.” Kay was saying warmly “Have a little faith in them, there is a surprise coming along that’ll show you beyond a shred of doubt that their allowing for miracles is fairly titanic.”
        “Titanic, yes… Now tell me I shouldn’t worry with all those icebergs!”
        “Indeed” Kay said with a hint of mischief in its ethereal voice “Now, let’s wake up and have some fun!”

        #1224
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Of course, there were probable versions of Snettie and Snooter that remained in Spreal, as well as probable versions that left Spreal much earlier. There was a probable reality in which Snooter and Snettie, and their freinds Spagwan and Illiofilly (sometimes spelled Iliophile) journeyed north a decade previously, as indeed there are probable realities in which Snooter and Snettie journeyed north, but Spagwan and Iliophile stayed behind.

          “This could go on ad infinitum Godfrey, I better rein myself in” remarked Elizabeth, more to herself than to her friend Pig Littleton, who appeared to be engrossed in scrutinizing peanuts one at a time before popping then into his mouth and chewing them thoughtfully.

          “Where were you planning to go with it, anyway?” asked Godfrey, inspecting another peanut.

          “Well, I didn’t have a plan actually. I just started writing, really. And kept on writing until I reined myself in, and then….”

          “And then what happened?” asked Godfrey, a trifle mischievously.

          “And then the writing stopped.” Elizabeth laughed.

          “How very singular, Liz dear” Replied Godfrey wryly. “You’re not making very good progress on Volume Two, I must say.”

          “Anyway, Godfrey, I’ve got a bone to pick with you!” Elizabeth pushed her keyboard away and turned to face her publisher. “You’ve been tampering with my vowels again! It’s jolly well not cricket you know, old bean.”

          Godfrey Pig Littleton focused on Elizabeth’s keyboard, a single peanut held alot as he concentrated, and the keys started to type on their own. Elizabeth swung round and read:

          “…Oonyway Goodfrey, Oo’ve goot a boon to pook wooth yoo! Yoo’ve boon toompering wooth moo vooells agoon! Oot’s jooly wool noot crookit yoo knoo, oold boon….”

          GODFREY!!” shouted Elizabeth. “Stop it! Nobody’s going to understand that Nonsense!”

          #1222
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            “Oh no! Last night’s frost has killed all the blibilong plants!” exclaimed Snettie, shivering in the unnatural cold. “Honestly, this global freezing is spoiling everything. If blibilong plants can’t stand this cold, then nothing will grow here anymore, and I am sick to death of eating leopard seal with no greens.”

            “Ugh, don’t remind me. What I wouldn’t give for a nice fresh sun warmed bobbit fruit. All the smikkerts have migrated north as well, I haven’t seen one for months” replied Snooter. “I don’t know if I can stick around here for much longer myself.”

            “But this is our home, Snooter!” Snettie started to cry, her tears freezing on her cheeks. We’re Sprealians, we’ve always lived here. Where will we go?”

            Snooter hugged Snettie. “I suppose we’ll have to go north, like the rest of them.”

            Snooter and Snettie gazed around at the deserted city. Alabash had been built around the shores of Lake Flom, in the mild and temperate regions of central Spreal (later, much later, Spreal was referred to as Gondwana, but Snooter and Snettie didn’t know that. And they certainly didn’t know that the remains of their civilization was to disappear under masses of ice for so long that all memory of them was long forgotten, and that anyone mad enough to suggest that they once existed would be considered a bit of a nutter).

            Snettie, I think the time has come” Snooter said solemnly. “I think we have to go north. There’s only old Spagwan left here now besides us, and his daughter Illiofilly. We’ll never survive here with just four of us, even if it didn’t get any colder, and it is getting colder, every day. Why, the first four floors of all our buildings are iced up now for heaven’s sake. What happens when the ice reaches the top floors? Then what?”

            “We’ll all be dead by then, Snooter” Snettie sighed “By rights we should probably be dead now. When we run out of furniture to burn to keep warm, then what? All the trees are dead and buried in ice.”

            “We’ll come back though, when it warms up again. This can’t last forever, and when it’s over, we’ll come back.” Snooter said optimistically.

            “How long do you think it’ll be?” Snettie asked her husband.

            “Oh, not long, a few years at most. Don’t worry, you’ll be back home before you know it, but for now, let’s go and find some warmth and some decent food, eh?”

            “Ok, but first I want to leave something, some message or clue or something, in case anyone comes back here before we do, so they know we’re coming back”

            #1217

            It took Akita a few minutes to come back to himself, and a few more to make sense of the situation.

            At first he thought a huge six-eyed hairy creature was staring at him, but then the blur started to dissipate and he recognized by order of appearance, Sharon the divine, Gloria the brave, and Mavis the eloquent.

            — Shtttt! He’s coming back!
            — Are you okay? How many fingers do I have?
            — Oh, shut up Glor, we’d better be quick before they all come back from lunch; rather carry him on my back than having to eat their bloody penguin grub once again!
            — Oh, all my fur for a few scones with a cup of Earl Grey!

            “Mmmm…” Akita managed to say “Where on Earth did you get those expensive fur coats? and why are you keeping them under your blouses?!”… “And where was Kay when he needed it?” he asked to himself.

            “Oh, bugger it” shouted Sharon “no time for explanations, let’s move now! Chop, chop! Glor, you take the snet and the ropes, Mav’ all the watermelbombs you can get; and don’t blow yourself up; I’ll take Akitoo. To the snow scooters’ hangar! Now!”

            #1216
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              “Jeeze, I can’t help to be continuously amazed by BeckyAl said more to himself than to Tina who was reading silently in the room next to his.
              “She struggles so hard at times, when all she needs is a little attention…” he continued in his breath.

              “What are you moaning about again?” Tina said, who unlike Becky was paying much attention even when she didn’t look like it.
              “Moonbeams! Did you see that last entry? There was as close as moon and beams as you could get in the previous entries in the Reality Play… I really wonder why we make things so hard for ourselves at times…”

              — Well, because it’s fun, I suppose she’ll tell you… Come on, you know how she is, you don’t need to play your sumafreak labouring it to the bitter end…
              — I suspect you’re right… And who cares about randomness anyway; it doesn’t look much fun these past few days, does it?
              — Sure…
              — Like I say. Look, you don’t even barely write yourself; if I didn’t know you’re here, I would probably do with the Play like the tomatoes plant; uproot it and cut it in pieces in a plastic bag for recycling.
              — Oh, but you have to admit the bedroom looks so much better without all these creepers around the place… All for what, twenty one tiniest tomatoes?
              — Plus the last two still ripening on the cupboard, Al retorted in a sullen manner.

              After a moment of silence, Tina laid her book down, and came closer
              — Yeah, you’re right, I don’t find it very funny for the moment, especially with that shift of vowellness in the Ooh dimension,…
              — Hehe, you mean, that nasty habit of telling ‘peanut’ instead of ‘poonut’?
              — Oh yes, but not only that,… Well, it looks like all my characters are eluding me, becoming alien… if you see what I mean… :yahoo_alien:
              — Yes, I see; and I must say you’re doing great with that; Becky would faint at the mere mention of something becoming alien, Al couldn’t help but laugh. :yahoo_oh_go_on:
              — No, but seriously…
              — I know. I think what we need is some more of your inimitable talent at creating syncs. You’ve always been the connector my dear with those “magifestations” of yours.
              :creating_magic:

              She smiled. :yahoo_happy:

              — Now, speaking of random syncs, what have you got to say about that; we could create a music band :bounce: :yahoo_whistling:
              — What?
              — Hang on, here’s the band’s name: 57th Ward of New Orleans and we could call our first album… Mmm… That’s it: The Cup To Overflowing … What do you think? :agreed:

              Mmmm… that may sound weirdo, but it seems very feisty all of a sudden ! :yahoo_clown: :buffoon: :yahoo_party:

              #1215

              “Well, Sanso” said Zhaana a trifle breathlessly, her flushed with wonder. “ The Elsepace Arrangement was certainly an eye opener, if eye opener is the right word. So what next?”

              Sanso laughed uproariously. “What next? What next, AHAAAHAA HA HA! What next indeed!”

              “What’s so funny?” asked the little girl, her face starting to crumple.

              “Oh don’t do the old crumple face, Zhaana, I’m laughing at myself as much as anything” Sanso replied, giving her a quick hug. He couldn’t bear the sight of crumple faced children.

              “Well, I still don’t understand why you’re laughing” she replied with a pout.

              “It’s actually a very good question, and one I sometimes find I ask myself. Well, I used to ask myself “what next” all the time, as if it was somehow important to know where I was going next, to have a destination or a plan.”

              “But if you don’t have a destination, how do you know where to go next?” Zhaana was confused.

              Sanso smiled. “It doesn’t matter where you go next, little one, because you’re always at the centre of everything. You can go in any direction you want and you’ll always be at the centre of everything.”

              “Well if that’s the case, why not just stay right where I am, then?”

              “Do you want to do that? Stay right where you are?”

              “No! I …er….no! of course not!”

              “Why not?” Sanso asked with a gentle smile.

              “Well, if I stay right here, and don’t go in any direction, everything will always be the same” she replied, frowning.

              “And what would be wrong with that?”

              Zhaana had to think about this. “Well, it wouldn’t be wrong I guess, but it would be boring. There wouldn’t be any surprises…..”

              “Ah so you like surprises, then!” Sanso was grinning.

              “Yes, I love surprises!”

              “Well then why do you want to plan where you’re going next?”

              Zhaana opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish. Sanso was confusing her, and she didn’t know what to say.

              “OK then, Sanso, you are always wandering around, how do you decide where to go next?” asked Zhaana, rather cleverly responding to the difficult question with a question of her own.

              “I get an impulse, or I see a sign, and I follow it.”

              “What do you mean, a sign?” Zhaana understood about impulses: after all, she had followed her impulse to leave horrid old Uncle Grishenka and follow Sanso into the cave. She wasn’t sure about signs, though.

              “I’m not sure I can describe a sign, really. They just appear, and so I notice them.”

              “Well, after you notice them, then what?”

              “Well” said Sanso “Then you interpret the sign however you want to, and then you act on it.”

              “You can interpret the sign however you want?” asked Zhaana with a hint of disbelief in her voice.

              “Yup” replied Sanso. “That’s about the size of it, Sweetpea.”

              ~~~

              “Oh Godfrey, I’ve been trying to get the theme word into this entry and I’m just not getting any closer.” Elizabeth sighed, and pushed her keyboard away. Quickly she pulled the keyboard back so that she could write what Godfrey replied.

              “Have some more peanuts, Liz” he replied with a laugh.

              Elizabeth pushed the keyboard away again and passed Godfrey the peanuts .

              A few moments later Elizabeth pulled the keyboard back and wrote:

              ~~~

              Sanso, a word just popped into my head, do you think it might be a sign?” Zhaana asked excitedly. “It just popped in from nowhere!”

              “Sure it’ll be a clue, and what was the word?” he replied, trying unsuccessfully to suppress a chuckle. He had heard the word too, and knew exactly where it was coming from, but he wasn’t going to spoil the moment for his little friend.

              “Moonbeams!” she announced proudly. “I heard the word moonbeams !”

              #1210

              Having left her body, she realized that this incursion in her old dimension had exposed her body to a lot of strain. It was easier for her now that her attention wasn’t so clinched to the physical reality, it was more fluid and more comfortable. She was in a hurry, but she had to made some arrangements before or her beautiful physical expression would deteriorate too quickly. Looking at it from her current point of view, she felt compassion and sadness. Her face was so pale and covered in sweat, her hair so dishevelled. She gathered some long forgotten aspects which would knew how to take care of that situation. She had some big challenge ahead and it was important that when she came back her body would be readily available.

              As for now, first of all she had to find that cube. It could help her localized the artifact she needed in her fight for the skulls. She vaguely remembered it was in a room to which there was an entry somewhere on this planet that she had left just before her departure to the Duane… so many years ago in her focus, and a bit mixed up with the non-linear time of that other dimension… well, she let her intuition guide her as it was the only way to find it; she felt that something in the energy outside was facilitating also, she could feel the ripples but… she had no time to find out what it could be. She already had lost so much time taking care of her body.

              After what seemed to be eons, she eventually found the door well hidden in a cave in Venezuela. The condition of the place surprised her, the cave was quite humid and muddy, the door wood was almost completely rotten, not mentioning the frame of eroded stones. She couldn’t remember why she chose these elements when she created this entry on earth, but apparently she didn’t put enough energy in it and her attention had been away for so long that it was crumbling apart. She didn’t have time for recrimination at the moment so she moved through the door and her presence lightened up the inner room.

              It was a place in between dimensions, an inner study from where she could gather and connect her discoveries in the different places she had visited; a good place to plan her next moves. The room was well equiped to find missing objects too. All she had to do was find that missing cube…

              It had to be close to the center, in a manner of speaking at equal distance from the different dimensions that were connected to it. She had to be careful in the process as some parts of the study were close enough of other dimensions that she would forget all about what she was looking for. There was a potentiality for disengagement here and that wouldn’t help her at all.

              #1198
              Jib
              Participant

                Yann woke up puzzled by his dreams. He’d been walking in the street of a big odd city… an oddicity? He giggled in himself. Yurick was still sleeping and he didn’t want to wake him up.

                In that oddiCity, there were many people but as he could feel in his dream they were not necessarily interacting with each others directly, and strangely it seemed that the different individuals were not necessarily at the same time though he could clearly see them in the same place.

                He was wondering as some people were waving at him… did he know them? As far as he could tell, they weren’t triggering any memory of individuals he had met in his waking life. Some of them seemed somewhat familiar but he couldn’t put a name on their faces. When he was feeling like it he would wave back at them but most of the time he would simply ignore them. No consequences.

                At some point In his dream, he’d ended up in a big park, very calm and soothing. He could see some people smiling and laughing, and the sound of their laughs was not intrusive, it was merely part of the environment like the birds chirping.

                He remembered having seen 3 fountains… when he found the second one, he thought he took a wrong turn and was back at the first one, but a closer look let him notice a few definite differences, and it was more obvious with the third one. Though the designs were similar, the water in each of these fountains was behaving quite differently. In the first one, the water was acting just like he was expecting from water: springing from a pipe, from the bottom up and coming down according to the laws of physics. In the second one, it was as if water was magically condensing from somewhere above the surface of the pond and falling down like the rain. Quite beautiful and very hypnotic… no cloud above. The third one could seem a bit chaotic at first glance, but the movements were quite harmonious too and Yann could fathom some kind of rhythm or interactions going on. He couldn’t clearly see where the water was coming from, and he didn’t have the occasion to examine it as his attention was caught by a voices coming from a gathering of people nearby.

                He found them in a clearing; some people were sitting in front of what appeared to be puzzle pieces. The shapes were quite different from the ones he’d been accustomed to, but it didn’t seem weird at the moment. A man was standing and walking among the others, giving them information and directions on how to manipulate the different pieces.
                As Yann was approaching closer, he noticed that Yurick… no it was Quintin… it seemed he hadn’t called himself Yurick yet… well he was there too and he seemed quite puzzled and engrossed by what he had in front of him. He only had 2 pieces, but it seemed quite difficult to make them fit together.
                As Yann was about to call his friend, the man began to talk to him.

                “Hello. Do you want to try by yourself?..”

                Yann felt something was not as it should have been… it was as if the man was talking to him, and at the same time continuing with his explanations to the other people. And as he was staring at Yann, waiting for an answer, his attention was also focused on his students going on and on with some endless instructions on how it all functioned and what was the proper use of the pieces…

                “You’re new in this area, I never saw you here before, though you seem familiar…”

                That’s when he woke up, puzzled. A bit sad that he’d left the enchantment of the park, but relieved that he wouldn’t have to listen to all the babbling of the man. What was his name again? It had been lost in the huge amount of words, not clearly separated from the names of the tiles or the names of the other students.

                #1193
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Georges and Salome’s journal

                  From Salome’s account of her introduction to the Turmak People (Part 3)

                  Cil and I have stayed on the Murtuane longer than was required for the report on the events occurring here. Though it was not required, it proved invaluable for me to gather much information on both the planet itself, but more important, on the interconnections with the other planets and the Guardians themselves.

                  A pivotal point in this exploratory mission was the impressive encounter with one of the few still focused Nirguals of this dimension. N’meôrl, as he introduced himself to us, out of concern for the current events came to contact Cil despite his looking askance at the Guardians on the whole.
                  As it appears to be, due to their acute awareness of how energy can be manipulated to create one’s own reality, some of the Guardians became to view themselves as superior in knowledge and skills as to the other conscious creatures roaming on this dimension —most of whom already having far more understanding of things deemed “magical” in my own earthly dimension of origin. However, viewing themselves as such (though by no means the standards in the Guardians societies) had them manipulate some of these others; mostly to entertain themselves or to experiment, without concern as to the others’ reactions.

                  Frown upon by many Guardians, this practice was tolerated notwithstanding, and had created a few pockets of what the Guardians called “slaves”. Inquiring to Cil as to how people with such thin veils between their subjective creative source and the objective realizations could become “slaves” to others, she had struggled a bit to explain to me at first. Allowing her to reach into my awareness for associations or analogies with similar energetic displays, she surprised me —surprised is even a mild word for my initial reaction— by telling me it was the same as our religions. Struggling initially to understand her point, I find myself, if not entirely agreeing with it, at least being able to explain what she meant by that. To her, people were ultimately free unless they themselves were tricked into bondage. But bondage could be of various nature, and she continued to explain, physical bondage was the less efficient of all. “Guidance”, on the opposite, with the proper construction of suggestions and beliefs, could yield very efficient results.
                  So, those “rogue” Guardians were nothing else but priests? The difference between this association and Cil’s distaste for them seemed too strong. Perhaps I would have to reassess my own beliefs.

                  So, apparently some of these Guardians had been responsible for disturbances. Cil seemed to understand that something grave was happening, but when she tried to explain to me, once again words or clusters of thoughts seemed to fail her. She found in my memory some analogy which seemed again quite besides the point, though very intriguing.
                  She said it was similar to what our medicine men were doing with their needles. She probably had reached into my memories of traditional acupuncture medicine. She went on to compare the planets as a single body, with bumps and hollows in energy; usually, the body knows how to harmoniously balance both of these, and a bump can reflect into a hollow and vice-versa. Sometimes, when people create illnesses, the practitioner will move these to help. But something else was happening here: the flow was artificially changed, she said.
                  “What was the point in that?” I asked. She pondered for a moment, then answered without judgment that it was probably for the sake of the experience.
                  “The Nirgual is mostly warning us that this experience may not lead to an equilibrium before long. That it may profoundly modify the energy on the planets, and not for the better. The Murtuane and its Turmak people have mostly had a stabilizing impact on the very energetic events happening on the Duane. Modifying this could quickly take things out of our hands” she said worriedly.

                  #2155

                  In reply to: The Story So Far

                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Tikfijikoo Island (continued)

                    (see this comment for previous part)

                    Mahiliki comes crashing down the island (with the pilot) having Veranassessee dumbfounded and speechless.

                    Rafaela leads Paquita and Jose through their dreams into acceptance of their facial conditions, and out of the island’s experiments through a secret passageway underground.
                    As well, Anita leads her parents away from the island, through a tunnel, thanks to the intervention of her favourite team of “invisible” essence friends. She bids Akita goodbye as he’s drawn to the impromptu fiesta by Mavis and tells him he shall see his spirit dog again.

                    Meanwhile, Sha and Glo discover some strange hairiness side-effects to their absorption of honeycomb.

                    [Fast forward a few weeks later.]

                    Apparently Dory and young Becky who were going to Tikfijikoo discover the island is placed under quarantine.
                    All clues indicate the vortex activities, cyclones, and mad spider experiments have put the international security at risk.

                    Veranassessee is reporting the situation at the local headquarters of the Confregation (likely to be fired), while Mahiliki and the pilot are under scrutiny to check their stories…

                    We find the three divas, Sharon, Gloria and Mavis with a little more hair, but not less slickness, in a military hospital on nearby Antarctica. Akita was brought there too, in solitary confinement because he pretends to be a WWII soldier and to be guided by a speaking dog (which is all real of course, but you never know). They soon plan to escape.

                    Madame Chesterhope, who was unwillingly rescued on the submarine of captain Pavel is placed in some sort of detention.
                    Meanwhile, Claude has visibly gotten back to Jarvis who had managed to get the crystal skull amidst the island’s confusion. They now both are on the submarine, toasting on the success of the operation of crystal skull’s retrieval.

                    Balbina, an old lady living in the future timeline in Venezuela (same timeline as Anita and her parents) is moved to her son’s home, nearby old caves were she expects Anita and her parents may soon resurface.

                    #1181

                    “I told you, you shouldn’t have told them”
                    “Shut up! You’re not even real, none of this is real…”
                    “Well, I don’t know for you, but I feel real enough to be able to annoy you”

                    Akita wasn’t sure if those hallucinations were due to the shock of the freezing temperatures of the Antarctica base, or to the medications they’d given them since the military troops had landed on the shores of that island to place it under strict quarantine. All of that was a bit fuzzy afterwards.

                    He barely remembered how he’d been brought here. Someone had probably noticed the high energy vortexes occurring on the island, or perhaps someone in high places had been tipped about all the weird stuff that had occurred there. He couldn’t tell for sure.
                    However, something strange had occurred. He had started to be able to see Kay, his spirit dog, reappear soon after.
                    And that’s when everything started to go in a hellish downward spiral.
                    Perhaps he shouldn’t have tried to convince the medics in the first place. Now he wasn’t so sure the dog wasn’t all but a figment of his imagination, which was all fine for him, but he had to know.

                    “Has this… err… dog that you see speaking to you, has it ever told you anything you couldn’t have known yourself?” the medic had been asking him.
                    That’s what had the doubts start to creep. Perhaps he was just another traumatized war veteran, like a few others, creating funny speaking critters in his mind to cope with the amount of trauma he went through. That would be quite possible.

                    “Oh, come on Akita, you know I’m real, and everything we’ve gone through was real. Those friggin’ drugs they’ve given to you ain’t helpin’ you know”.

                    Kay was right about that. He was slurring his words, and could barely stand on his own. They had to escape from here; real, unreal, it didn’t really matter; but he was sure of one thing; it wasn’t feeling good. Not feeling good in the least.

                    Kay?”
                    “What?”
                    “I suppose you got a plan, you sly dog?”

                    #2030

                    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Some selected bits from one tag cumulo-cloud:

                      — “Matter (is) dimensional energies realized”
                      — “Expect Hector (to) surface, Rafaela!”
                      — “Leonora gets (to) keep saying ‘play attention!’”
                      — “Close rain, friend magic, hope water seeing”
                      — “Far within thinking, Arona sort days, (her) hold gives human comments great meaning”
                      — “Soon blue seconds, call straight (at the) door, met surely physical; notice move (of) essence (in) fat huge dreams”
                      — “Universe appear (in) book story”
                      — “Malvina line although familiar answered busy funny heading”
                      — “Tina looked love taking lots question indeed”
                      — “Word usually working (in) short shifting pooh adventure”
                      — “Seems Armelle starting soft reason; strange perhaps (in the) middle (of) rolling help (one may) spot dragons’ truth past spider times”
                      — “‘Tell inside reality’: three words step (to) creating”
                      — “Becky, allow yourself finding single beautiful playing light, dear”
                      — “Cloud impulse shall house explain surprised black connection”
                      — “Cool trust(ed) friends, portal plane”
                      — “Aliens coincidence next talking”
                      — “Walking arms seem flight silence; stone creature sound already entered field (of) aware(ness); scene trip apparently given reading”
                      — “Beyond rolled Theresa, lately cave telling unusual morning”
                      — “Wortex large, merely Glo

                      #2029

                      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        A moment later she fell in the pool, slipping on some loose change. The part had been a free for all, and her host had alot to answer for. lots of drinks had been given to the grey goat and mavis didn’t give a shit. she meant during the days that followed to find salome, to be able to find some meaning to the story about leonora. It was a fine day for a plane ride she thought as she waited in line feeling excited until she noticed a red working lamp advertising love, but she never noticed how much easier it was during the news. The finn connection had her smiling as she thought to try creating calm and stay present and breathe as she looked around and noticed her arms were far from normal. suddenly shhe was walking away. the goat forgotten but wrick managed to save the library which was full of fresh air known only to sri who was to sort it all out although he laughed about the wood fire of the 19 planets and she was behind herself all the way

                        (oops, said Bea, I forgot to indicate which of the words was from the word cloud and which were mine. Oh well, never mind….)

                        #1150

                        Dory was often reminding herself (and anyone within hearing or blogging distance in the process) of one of her favourite catch-phrases: what you are looking for is probably right under your nose.
                        It seemed of particular relevance these days, Yurick was noticing, for a variety of reasons.

                        First, his glasses needed some dusting… He’d have to finish that monologue later then.

                        :fleuron:

                        What was he about then? Yes. The tillandsias near the window. Last week-end, they’d been to a crystal store with Yann, and mildly interested by crystals, Yurick had been wondering loudly at the heaps of strange plants in the middle of the paraphernalia of rocks, shells and starfishes. The store owner had proceeded to explain those were aerial plants, known for gathering the elements of their sustenance out of the air.
                        The curiosity would probably have ended with those quick answers, had the guy not not given them on an impulse two little specimens just when they were about to go with Yann’s newly acquired amethysts.
                        :raw-crystal:

                        Cute. New plants to interact with. Yurick had to say he preferred plants to rocks. Yann for his part had found them funny names. “Sha” for the witchy hairy one, and “Glo” for the pineapple-looking one. Why not…

                        The tilland… Well, “Sha” and “Glo” (you had to give credit to Yann for granting the reader a good respite from long unpleasant names) had been there in the bathroom for a few days, and only now had Yurick found some interest in investigating more about them.
                        The capacity they had to live apparently without any strings attached was very appealing to him, and it was like a symbol of focusing on one’s own vitality, and finding the means to live out of that elusive “new energy”; of not feeding off something outside of self.

                        Now, he was finding even more interesting facts; a picture that Yann had taken of a blooming plant recently was of the same genus of plants, and it reminded Yurick of plants which had fascinated him in a botanical garden, that were also from this species.
                        Interestingly, he found out that the plants were named after a Finnish botanist (Elias Tillandz )… He couldn’t help but notice the similarities with another focus of his: Elias Lönnrot.

                        The string of clues suddenly filling up the previously empty corridors of his mind were sparkling a renewed interest for focus hunting.

                        #1151
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          Tina leaned back on her rocking chair, and ogled with an eye of pity Al who was trimming one of the plants.

                          What?
                          Oh nothing, Tina sighed… are we gonna eat any fruit from those, or shall I throw them in the bin?
                          Oh, there’s good hope we can soon have a cherry tomato wrapped in a leaf of coriander for our dinner sweetie.
                          You and your miniature cultures… She finally rolled her eyes. During Al’s trip in the Floridisles, by a strange series of nearly miraculous coincidences, the plants had stayed intact. She hadn’t watered them for the two weeks, but apparently it had not displeased them.

                          Al had told her the funny story of his grand-father watering his wife’s precious flowers during her absence with gallons of water, and literally drowning them in love.
                          She had not smiled. “Maybe I’m drowning people in my love too, they tend to get soggy these days…”
                          So perhaps her lack of attention had been a blessing for the tinsy artsy plantsaïs

                          What did they have for dinner last time? A puny ratatouille made with courgettes the size of her fingers. First time she’d wished she had bigger fingers. Nah… Al, you got to understand, people aren’t ready for nano-biotics…

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