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  • #644

    Back in the depths of the water, Aglaë was thinking of a way for her to move easily on the other world.

    There was a legend of her people, a legend which was told to the children. It promised pain and an accursed half-life to those trying to disown their heritage, and live outside of the life-sustaining element of water.
    For most of the children, such an idea was incongruous at best, and none would have thought of breaching the taboo simply to try something different and potentially lethal.
    But to Aglaë, all that it meant now was that such a thing was possible.
    In that legend she had been told when she was young, there was a prince, who betrayed his people, and was condemned to an exile outside of the oceans. So that he would not die an immediate and atrocious death on the dry surface, but rather suffer even more, by not being able to come back to the depths, he was given a mixture of plants to ingest. A deadly algae which grew in the cemeteries of the Holders of Dreams, on the carcasses of the Wise Ones, mixed with an herb from the lands.

    Aglaë did not know how and where to gather the plants… She was hesitant to do such a thing, for it would surely infuriate her father… But she was willing to do it. She would have to find a naïve ally to help her in her task, because she was seeing her half-brother Pelorus becoming suspicious and she did not want to have him discover her plans before she could realise them.
    Pelorus was very close to their father, who had made him Captain of the Tritonic Guard. Though he was not having a slithery serpentine tail like her own, he was very agile and swift in the waters with his tentacles, and was very respected, as he had a reassuring presence, radiating might and power.

    #634

    Veranassessee cursed under her breath. Her mind was working swiftly, weighing up her next actions. The Doctor was becoming a liability to the success of the project.

    iko va baba bula makuba she muttered.

    She made her decision.

    :fleuron:

    Agent V, he said. I have been expecting your call.

    Operation Spider is in danger. I need instructions.

    We can’t abort at this stage, it has gone too far. He thought for a moment. Mobilise plan B.

    One more thing you need to know, I have seen evidence of increased Magpie activity in the locality.

    He swore softly. Are you sure?

    Pretty sure, they are keeping undercover, shapeshifting, but I sense their presence.

    Bugger those thieves. I feared they would sniff this out …. keep me posted Agent V

    Will do.

    And Agent V …. good work.

    Veranassessee felt a moment’s pleasure at his unaccustomed praise, quickly fading at the tremendous racket coming from the cupboard behind her.

    :fleuron2:

    This aint bloody right Glor.

    We’ve been here for bloody hours, my lumbago’s playing up something dreadful

    ‘Ark Glor! I thought I ‘eard a noise

    oh let’s shout out, on the count of three

    #633
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      On Channel TV-5, Tobi the ventriloquist’s show was on.

      The usual gang was gathered in Al and Tina’s flat, to enjoy the popular show. Becky, who was a huge aficionado of the show had made it to the flat before everyone, despite her suffering from apparently unexplainable pains in the chest.
      When the show started, Becky felt a little better though she couldn’t really breathe easily. The Yeath Lady, in her ash-blue mummy outfit was making her giggle. It wasn’t very good for her floating ribs, but she couldn’t help, and decided to giggle softly.

      Al was trying his best to munch some pop-corn but one of his tooth was still moving in his mouth, and it wasn’t time to get some pop-corn implanted into his gums…

      #628

      Chris, I demand you tell me what’s going on! What was that … that thing! Nurse Bellamy was visibly upset, her cheeks flushed, her voice tremulous. She had no idea what had just happened, but she suspected that even coconut milk might not make it better this time.

      Are you going to tell her or do I have to do it? asked Veranassessee. Because if you can pull yourself together I have a couple of guests locked in a closet, and now a mummy on the run to deal with! It had been a tiring day and Veranassessee was furious.

      V’ass what’s going on, Chris, will someone please tell me ….!

      I will tell her Veranassessee. Dr Bronkelhampton slumped in his chair and wondered where to start. A plan was beginning to form in his head. V’ass had always said Nurse Bellamy should be told the truth, now it seems that, as usual, she was right. But of course, he smiled to himself, as Dr Lemane, his erudite Professor at medical school had always said, there are many sniggly variations of one truth. Well, it was something along those lines he said anyway.

      :fleuron2:

      Oh this is the bees knees! what do you reckon about this room then Sha? Do you think the treatment has started?

      Perhaps it is special beauty air in here. It smells different don’t it?

      They both breathed deeply. Oh Yes, Yes, YES! giggled Glor

      Sha?

      Yes?

      It’s a bit odd though don’t you think? I mean nothing like what I was thinking.

      :fleuron2:

      The mummy headed towards the dense bush, her brain was foggy but she knew she had to find cover. Her limbs felt heavy. Keep going, just keep going …

      :fleuron2:

      Nurse Bellamy could not stop crying. Oh Chris … oh you poor man. I always thought there was something odd about Veranassessee. Oh what shall we do my darling, she must be stopped!

      Quite right, she must my little poppet, soothed Dr Bronkelhampton, stroking Nurse Bellamy’s hair gently, and thinking quickly. But for now, keep it to yourself. It is a very delicate matter. Can you do that my sweet one? Just for me?

      Oh yes Chris! whatever you think best my my darling.

      #625

      The buzzing of the telepooh woke up Elizabeth with a flinch, her heart pounding in fast tremolos.

      She grumbled restlessly, her throat dry and itchy and her limbs still limp from slumber; she was in a dream, and already, she was feeling the unusual distinct clarity of the dream scenario gently fade as her attention was focusing upon the unwelcome sound which had a distorting quality of her yet poorly focused perception of her surroundings.

      The buzzing ceased abruptly. She opened an eye to see the ID of the caller, but it was not displayed. Bugger the caller
      Still feeling groggy, she was hanging to the last images of her dreams. It was telling her a story, a legend… Something full of grandeur, like a galactic opera filled with awe, drama and excitement… A renewed fount of inspiration…

      The voice of the lady who had been telling her that story was still inside her head, all she had to do was to slightly let herself drift into the numb and warm state of mind in which she was some minutes ago…

      You are tapping into a mass event. You are translating but a minute portion of it, though it seems colossal already. It is in fact so wide that it reflects in many other worlds which all live in your imagination. Bound together, they represent more books that you could write in a lifetime, more books that you and any army of ghost-writers could write in a thousand lifetimes…

      The voice was delightfully soothing, and Elizabeth was seeing herself drifting again in the blissful sleep bereft of irate publishers’ diktats. Beaming at her, Elizabeth could envision a light feminine figure with flowing dark hair illuminated by green-blue shimmers. How could she ever remember all that was said… She was plagued with such bad memory…

      Elizabeth had her dictaphoo under her pillow, ready for such sudden strokes of genius, but her mouth dried up from nicobeck wasn’t ready to spew out words that early in the morning.

      What the lady with the teal eyes had shown her was an old book of prophecies, which she had named the Last Gospel, unknown yet but which would be remembered as the mass event would be enacted again.
      The book spoke of a triad of planets, named M’si, B’si and Earth. Just before Elizabeth woke up, she had seen that Earth was in the process of been isolated from the other parts of the cosmos, for untold reason. Suddenly, she had seen one of the planets, the one named B’si, change her quality and become a “gravitational lense” altering the perception of space from the “Earth” standpoint. The planet B’si became transparent and expanded, as though it was an exploding super-nova, but nothing radiated from the planet. Only the quality of the space was modified.

      Elizabeth had the idea of a novel based upon this mass event which could be her next perfect best-seller. She reached out for her typewrooter.

      :fleuron:

      When the World was young, the Powers were roaming in a void full of possibilities.
      Initially, Three Syzygies there were. By two came the Six Powers. Three Syzygies, or couples of Light Beings, each Syzygy blessed with unlimited creative powers.

      Elizabeth pondered for a moment… She wanted to say many things at the same time, and couldn’t write them fast enough. She started to write notes haphazardly as they came to her mind.

      — Two planets for themselves to play; a planet for themselves to dwell. The planets gravitate around a sun on the same orbit. Each of the Powers possess a symbolic scepter power artifact, and each couple generates a crystal or a kind of light seed which allows them to create new sentient beings… When parted, that crystal kind of light is deactivated.
      — One planet is home of dragons, created by one of the syzygies, another is home of giant eagles; they all are lesser Powers… The third one have giant-like Light beings…

      — What made the planet B’si change its quality? What became of the Powers? (I can sense them desiring to become part of their creations, willing to forget about themselves and their powers… Punishment? Mere playfulness? Perhaps there was a coup organized by the Lesser Powers?)

      Phew… Elizabeth yawned. All she could think of now was that she wanted to go back to sleep…

      #624

      Instantly Elizabeth regretted her spikey, voodish behaviour and scrambled to retrieve the telepooh. Her mother was Vood by nature, a particularly dysfunctional personality type, and Elizabeth had struggled all her life to avoid similar behavioural patterns. Her friends, and certainly her ex-husbands, would say perhaps with only partial success.

      Apologies Bronkel, I was engrossed in my writing. How can I help you?

      Bronkel appeared to be covered in bandages from what she could see of his upper torso, giving him the appearance of a rather odd mummy like creature. He was constantly searching for new beauty treatments to extend his youthful goodlooks, however at 167 years more and more desperate measures were being called for.

      Elizabeth! Thank God, Where in Flork’s name have you been? he shouted at her. His pudgy, prouty little face was scrunched in peevish vexation. I can’t talk for long, I am on the Island for a month and the connection is flork. Where in the name of Fock is the story you promised me?

      She could not find the words to reply to Bronkel. I wonder if I am mindblown? she mused. She had read of this horrible phenomenon, and seen the sad pictures of those thus afflicted. Poor wandering creatures, strange erratic behaviour, always travelling, always seeking. But for what? Hell on Dearth indeed. She shuddered.

      It is getting urgent you know, spluttered Bronkel. Every day I am reading of new treatment centers opening for those undergoing crisis due to the prolonged absence of the Fickle Four in their lives.

      She sighed, Pull yourself together Elizabeth, her bloodshot and tired eyes were drawn to the planetary horrorscope on the monthly calendar. Todays “Words of Comfort for the Descending” quotation was from the famous philosopher Lemone. She particularly loved Lemone’s ideas. Many considered him a nutter, a few thought he was a genius ahead of his time. For herself, she did not really know, only that his profoundly beautiful words offered a kind of solace or balm to her tortured soul at times such as this :

      Sometimes it takes a single sniggly thorny path to go through to reach Elysian avenues much more efficiently ~ Lemone

      Absolutely fantastic Bronkel, I think this is going to be the best novel yet! My God what an effort it took to say that, but for some reason Bronkel appeared to believe her and began to calm. Thank you Lemone, I could kiss you! she breathed an inward sigh of relief.

      Poke its eyes out! screeched Robert X exuberantly.

      A sniggly thorny path indeed, she thought, hanging up on Bronkel. She had fun using him and his island getaway for inspiration in her last novel. Fun, what happened to the fun? Is this what descended beings do, sit around in a dank, dusty office writing trashy novels?

      She began nervously smoothing out pieces of paper and tried to decipher the scribbled notes; …big soup party …..pointy teeth like cannibals…..tribal wedding ….

      Elizabeth put her head in her hands and groaned in abject despair. Twelve of the twenty mongoats fainted at the fearful sound.

      #623
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        Elizabeth Tattler stared morosely at her screen. Her long hair, formerly her crowning glory was wild and matted, small bald patches had formed where she had begun to habitually pull at it. Her beautiful violet eyes for which she was famous were bloodshot from weariness.

        Ms Tattler was known planet wide for her series of children’s books “The Fickle Four”. The exploits of Almad, Tinigrump, Samnuf and Bekipo were beloved by children of all ages and planetary connections, although perhaps most endearing to those of the Fumari dimension who had a natural disposition for exploits of such fickleness. The catchprase “Bit rude Tinigrump”, and “Madder than Almad” had become part of the national vocabulary in recent years.

        Formerly Ms Tattler had written, with limited success, novels of a more adult nature, drawing on her numerous marriages for creative inspiration. However her publisher had asked her to create a series about four friends who were on a mission to create other worlds, the focus being on “providing positive and fun role models” for children growing up in these difficult times of planetary upheaval. The works were in the science freakshow genre of writing and the popularity of the original novel had been unprecedented, taking Elizabeth and her publisher by surprise and leading for the demand for many more.

        Ah, she sighed, and then spluttered as she inhaled the dusty, smoky air, but what a noose this has created. Her yellow nicobeck stained fingers touched her neck and then ran agitatedly through her hair. For at some point, when did it start? the story had begun to take a life of its own. She no longer felt in control as plots became more and more bizarre. She felt unable to follow anything through, creating endless threads which seemed to lead nowhere. She looked around her small office, everywhere was the evidence of stories started and discarded, screwed up pieces of paper covered in frenetic doodles littering the floor.

        The telepooh began to buzz. She knew it was Bronkel her publisher before his face came up on the screen.

        I know you are there Elizabeth. Will you pick up please!

        In a fit of rage Elizabeth picked up the telepooh and threw it across the room, where it narrowly missed Lana, one of her 20 fainting Mongoats she kept as pets. Lana fainted for a few seconds in fear and Robert X, her pet Magpie, hopped around delightedly, Bugger the telepooh, Bugger the telepooh! he screeched. Poke its eyes out! Poke its eyes out.

        #621
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          “Hang on a minute” he shouted to his friends as soon as they were out of the grocery store, burden with the loads of the bags.
          Molly, Harvey and Francis looked puzzled at their foreign friend.
          Then with a shrug, Harvey sat on a pile of snow that had fallen from the roof, and leaned against one of the pillars of the square place dimly lit by a buzzing orange light.

          He run to the chalet on the left, which was apparently closed, but he knew there would probably be someone in there.
          He opened the creaking door, not startled by the bells tinkling at his left ear, and went straight to the counter, as though he had always known the place. A young man with a goatee was there, busy sorting old papers for the annual closing of the hostel.

          — Do you have a glass of water please? the stranger asked
          — Oh yes, sure… And with that?

          The man seemed to expect an answer… The stranger felt as if he knew that answer…

          — Yes… one of your… you know… chocolate things, with the wolf on it.
          — Exactly! the tenant was smiling.

          The stranger fumbled in his pocket, not having thought of requiring any money for a glass of water. But now…
          Phew, there was a coin in his left pocket. He drew it out, looked at it… A 3 euros coin? He didn’t know such a currency existed…

          — Oh, I won’t have the change I fear, the man answered… But I can make you a credit memo.

          He had no idea he would come back here soon, but the familiar place as much as the obliging man made him think that anything would be okay. At worse, he would have lost a few euros, which was no big loss.

          — Sure.

          The man showed him a red ticket, and leaning on the counter, proceeded with some explanations.

          — This is your credit memo. Additionally, as the hostel won’t be fully rented, you can use this as a reservation for next week. It’s for Mr Arkandin. You will be able to enter the special exhibit and join the guided tour. It’s a laying down travel. People are expected to go nowhere, yet they will travel. Pillows and blankets will be provided.

          He had a strange image in his mind of people laying on their backs and gliding on the floor in patterns leaving some tracks on the ground with various colours.

          — It is supposed to show people some beliefs about monogamy. And keeping track of their own travels…

          That was most puzzling… He wasn’t sure he would still be here next week, but that sounded intriguing enough to not be thrown in the bin right away…
          He thanked the man after having had his glass of water and putting the wolf-brand candy and red square of paper in his pocket.

          — There you are, sighed Molly, and what have taken you so long?

          #619

          Home, at last… Bernie Eleonara Mynd, Viscountess of Shropshire sighed, dropping her hairy salmon coloured hermine fur coat to the butler.
          Now, leave me alone Vigor, I don’t want to be disturbed.
          Madam, Vigor bowed deferentially

          A smoking teapot of fine herb tea was prepared on the glass coffee table just near a black silk pouch. With a greedy look on her face, she untied voraciously the pouch to reveal the crystal skull she had just acquired.
          After a few seconds of beholding the priceless possession, she lifted the teapot lid with a stiff face which eventually smiled blissfully at the smell of the fine Earl Fuchsia crop which was infusing.

          Good Lord, that trip was exhausting!… she growled in a very deep voiced that suddenly sounded more male than before.
          Didn’t know I had to go as far as Spain to get that darn skull!

          Bernie suddenly ripped her fine chignon from her head, revealing a bald head with a few short black hair on the top. She spitted her false teeth, peeled off some wrinkled patches of latex skin, smeared the mascara around her globular eyes and scratched her crotch…

          A ruffled sound and a “mmm mmm” suddenly caught her attention off the itchy body parts.

          She went to the cupboard, drew a key dangling from a necklace deeply buried inside her ample bosom, then stopped for a moment, and muttered a “bugger” before unbuttoning her tight blouse and removing the corset that was constraining her breath.
          Smiling wickedly, she proceeded to open the cupboard, but recoiled at a pale tied and muzzled figure who looked much similar to whoever she was impersonating.

          Oh, Lordy, what a stench! There’s no point in making such a fuss Viscountess, this will soon be over… I just needed a few things, and will soon be off, tonight to be precise…

          The pale figure whined with pleading eyes.

          Oh, just don’t make these eyes at me…

          Bugger! I can’t bother with her now, she said to herself, closing the cupboard’s door oblivious to the plaintiff whines. Now, got to move on real quick, before they realize something was wrong with the transaction.

          :fleuron:

          Juan had insisted that they all spent Christmas together before Paqui and Joselito went for their trip. He felt that there was more to this trip that he could grasp, and wanted to share these precious moments now, not wanting to live on regrets.
          Now, the new year was here, and he was alone. At least, he’d been more than glad to see Claudio move out. It had all been a lot easier than he’d thought at first. Obviously, when Paquita had said to that maggot that she was going to accompany Joselito to his trip on the whachaname-Kikkoo Island, Claudio had been outraged, probably thinking a good playing victim act would soon make things right for him.
          But he’d been wrong altogether. It was not about love for him or the other. It was all about freedom and being what she wanted. And emotional blackmail very quickly proved besides the point.
          His father had been proud at Paquita. Her decision obviously was made, and it had been the first time he had seen the frail girl unwavering at the arguments.

          The situation had soon proved unbearable for Claudio, who had no longer any reason for hanging around Juan and Paqui’s house, and one day he’d moved out, rather discreetly, not to be heard again. Somehow, Juan was aware of the town’s gossips, that he had acquired some unexpected sum of money, not sure if all very legally, but the thing was that he had decided to take his chances by going some said to Nicaragua, others to Brazil or even to the US…
          But who really cared?

          :fleuron:

          On his plane for Valparaiso, Claudio was looking at the letter he’d found in the family trunk. It was a brief correspondence between his grand-father and a certain Cillian Mc Gaughran, and it was linked to the skull he had sold such a handsome price. Perhaps he could get more information about them, if the recluse old man was still alive, that is…

          #618
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

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

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

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

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

            Hmmm said Becky reflectively, well probably not demure.

            No agreed Tina, not demure.

            :fleuron:

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

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

            Yeah it’s going to be great!

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

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

            Bugger telepathy sighed Tina

            #615
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              From Georges and Salome’s diary

              I woke up from my mediation, having seen those whom Georges refers to as “Guardians”. They looked deeply troubled. Apparently, they possess some kind of power that each of them share to an extent, at least the Eldest of them (or Jokans). With that power, they can travel in time and space and undo what another of them could have planted at some point in the canvas of their material reality.

              It thus appears of extreme importance that their decisions are reached with unanimity, as they have come to experience. My own presumptions tell me of a time not so far from this now where they were more numerous, but that the competition may have quickly decimated —exhausted, most certainly— those who did not align with the more powerfully expressed movement. Or perhaps they simply parted in different probable versions of this World, which is an eventuality equally as presumable.

              In any case, they were distraught over one in their ranks apparently doubting the decision they had just taken. They all knew of the consequence of one of them disagreeing, and it could nullify their efforts. It was thus of great importance that they come to understand, as much for the group as for the individual the source of his anguish. It seems some big changes are being planned…

              #1602

              In reply to: Synchronicity

              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                In the local newspaper today there was a full page story on an isolated monastery, Southern Star Monastery, in Hawkes Bay. I had not ever heard of it before. Anyway the story talked about the election of one of the Brothers to Abbot, which is a six year term thing, and the plans for the future expansion of the monastery …to welcome others and be an oasis of peace for the wandering traveller. The Brother who is Abbot is Brother Keogh, which sounds a bit like Geog….

                Southern Star Abbey

                #601
                Jib
                Participant

                  Georges and Salome’s journal

                  From Georges’ account of his arrival in Tur.

                  There is a strong energy concentration on some part of this planet called the Duane. I’m not yet familiarized with the geography of this world, but it seems to be a starry Island on the northern territories. The island is inhabited by a particular race that call themselves the Guardians. It seems that they are the only remnants of their previously flourishing civilization, most of them have migrated to another planet of the triplanetary system. The energy concentration is acting like a magnet, tuned to the other 2 planets, the Murtuane and the Phrëal. Maybe helping maintain the 3 of them in that particular triangle like alignment around Alienor.

                  The source of energy is coming from a giant crystal ball in their main City and is kept active by the Guardians. I’m wondering if they are responsible for the particular planetary aspect of this world. They are aware of other dimensions and other realities. But they are keeping these information for themselves. Planetary travels are not allowed for the other races apparently and they are not willing to exchange with other dimensional beings. I’ll have to play smoothly to gain their trust and get known. Apparently the body I chose for this first contact with this world is similar to one of their Jokan or higher ranked guardians. Maybe that will be of help.

                  There are twelve of them, and I think the 12 Jokan are directly connected with the 12 essence families of this dimension. Usually there are 4 of them present on each of the 3 worlds. But again that is information that is hidden to the other people of the Duane. I’m not sure about the other planets yet but it seems different.

                  #597

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

                  Patel

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

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

                  #595

                  December, 21 st, 2057

                  It was almost Christmas, and the Wrick Manor had been buzzing with preparation for the coming of Sean and Becky .

                  Manon was diligently busy cooking, having already planned many mouth-watering dishes on her menu, like poêléed (pan-seared) foie gras on roquette fig salad, lobster in ginger and scallion soy sauce, ostrich fillets with dauphine potatoes, and loads of exotic desserts and tarts.

                  Lord Wrick had told Manon that Becky was a vegetarian, but even Lord Wrick had trouble telling the cook what she should cook or not. Manon considered it a matter of rude interference upon her artistic culinary tastes, and no one was to tell her how to stir her sheep, so to speak. And secretly, she was sure that Becky would love her delicious Christmas menu.

                  In the meantime, Nanny Gibbon was having India Louise and Cuthbert prepare the twinkling Christmas tree. The garlands were a bright electric blue crisscrossing the branches of the huge silver fir, dangling under the weight of shiny red balls. The children were delighted to see Granddad Sean and they could hardly keep in place, and were giggling with joy.

                  This past month, with the settling down of winter, the light had been scarce, and even with knowing that all was purposeful, they’d rather create purposeful adventures in the Equatorial part of the world, where days were longer and temperatures balmier. They could almost tell that Manfred the cat was agreeing.

                  #588
                  Jib
                  Participant

                    Georges and Salome’s journal

                    From Georges’ account of their first journey to the Alienor star system

                    It’s our first attempt to use the Jorid to move through dimensions. Well the trip was worth it. I enjoyed it tremendously. I felt so elastic and inside-outed… :))
                    We had already gone through the Jorid to distant locations of our own dimension, but it’s slightly different. The adjustments of the encoding part of the physical manifestation is but one part of it.

                    Our joint focus had led us to a particularly interesting dimension. I know I have already many focuses in it as Salome has too. Maybe it was what created the draw to this dimension. We just didn’t choose to focus at the same time and space… it was our choice. We are so strongly connected that it is not important. We can reach each other awarenesses at will and communicate so fully at any moment.
                    It seemed to me that I already had a comprehension of the structure of this dimension. I’m not aware yet of when or how I did that but I understood that Salome wanted to take time, though time is not really relevant to describe the process of assimilation she was undergoing.

                    I felt drawn to the Duane. I was feeling some strong resonance in the vibrations of the people of this “planet”, but it was not really a planet like our planet Earth in our dimension. I still don’t understand fully how it is created, but the shape is quite flexible, so to speak. I had chosen to manifest different qualities, relevant to my current exploration which could be translated as physical strength and sharp intellect, and a strong persuasive energy.

                    Physically focused I could feel Salome in the RA2 of this dimension where a part of my attention was continuously focused. She already had made contact with different beings of the Duane in their dreams, preparing my coming so to speak :)) but her main focus of attention was directed to the Murtuane where I had hidden a few surprises for her. I’m sure she will appreciate the attention ;))

                    #587
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Georges and Salome’s journal

                      From Salome’s account of their first journey to the Alienor star system

                      I had more insights about the Murtuane and its biosphere. The race of green-skinned people seem to foster some deeply religious feelings. Not religious as in our age old beliefs on Earth, nothing of that sort. It’s more “religious” in the sense of caring for life, and the sacredness of it.
                      It seems they are so attuned to their feelings that they can feel in each other’s waves of moods, so that it becomes very difficult for them to entertain such violence that we have been enacting for so long on Earth.
                      It is like they form some kind of invisible bond, and can feel each other through the belonging of some kind of unseen social memory complex. I think they call each others Children of Turmak, or somewhat close.

                      There are other forms of lives present here, many underwater, and I can feel some ties between the Nirguals (those huge eagle-like winged beings) and what we, on Earth, remember as “dragons”. It is as though they are different forms of the same energetic blueprints, or species… In evolutionary terms, it would be tantamount to say that they share a common ancestor, but I know it is none of that either.
                      The Nirguals (let us call them like that for the time being) are indigenous to this planetoid of Murtuane, but they somewhat seem to have seeded some of them on the Duane, the dual or sister planet — though this is my loose interpretation… But even though it reminds me of a cuckoo being forgetful of its eggs in another nest, this strikes me as an evidence of some kind of awareness of each other, by each of the planets sentients. And also of an evidence of a kind of travel route between the two, though discontinuous if not vagarious, and probably uni-directional as per now, as nothing tends to corroborate a continuous interaction.

                      #581

                      Aglaë had been reluctantly coming back to the games of her sisters, when Thalÿs, the eldest had come back from her trip.
                      She’d had trouble with one of her dolphins who had fallen ill, and had been seeking advice from one of the healers in another distant underwater city.

                      Eufrosÿn, her other sister was listening to her account, and was amazed at the similarities between her sister’s depiction and her own recent dream imageries. But Aglaë, who was usually very fond of such bizarre coincidences, barely did more than a few silent nods.

                      Her mind was halfway here, and halfway there, with the mysterious life she had felt on the surface…
                      She wanted to come back, and a sudden impulse made her leave her sisters without an explanation and rush to her spot of observation.

                      #575
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        Georges and Salome’s journal

                        From Salome’s account of their first journey to the Alienor star system

                        The Jorid has spotted what will be the destination for our first joined adventure.
                        It’s a dimension which seems unexplored yet, and rather fascinating. Georges, as he is, would already have jumped right in, but I preferred to get a little more background information before moving into it. It’s still a little awkward to move into these realms where the laws of physics as we’ve known them are different, sometimes dramatically so. These would not be too much of a difficulty as the adaptation of the physical body usually goes quite fast, as Georges has shown me when we trained in more familiar dimensions, but the most delicate part is when we barely know the relationships at play.
                        Georges will laugh because he’s more confident that everything is perfect, but somehow, I tend to believe that things can be a little more perfect when we know how to avoid making faux-pas.
                        So we’ve spent a few days gathering some basic informations on this dimension we call Alienor. The most part of the activity seems to revolve around a cluster of planetoids. At this moment, it’s forming a system of three planets revolving on the same orbit around their sun. We call them Duane, Murtuane, and Phrëal.
                        They seem to form a complex web of relationships, and cover such a wide range of aspects that we have decided on a mutual agreement to split our exploration to cover more ground for a beginning.
                        Georges is exploring the Duane, and I took the Murtuane, both planetoids seeming to come from the same core of matter, in a manner of speaking. The feeling around the Phrëal is more ambivalent, as though it is undergoing some deep change, not unlike to the Shift that will be (or has been) occurring on our Earth. So, we’ve decided not to interfere with it right now. It may take a dozen of years (as we understand them) for them to undergo that process, but it’s not like we care of time issues in any case.

                        Here are my first observations concerning the Murtuane. Obviously, it ties into the Duane, but I am not completely aware of all of these ties yet.
                        The first connection I had to the Murtuane was with some ancient beings living here. I saw myself riding one of these sentient beings, gliding through the sky in a mountainous land. The colours are vivid, even if the atmosphere seems very light, and filtering the sun’s ray in a spectrum slightly more indigo than our sky on Earth. These beings, whose name I can’t yet translate accurately (it’s something close to Nirgual) are powerful winged focuses of essence, though I suspect this to be a mere convenient form that they use. They somewhat remind me of the Rokhs (or Rocs) that the sultan’s wifes were telling us about in their legends. Apparently, they are respected, perhaps feared by the people inhabiting the lands, though I can feel they are for the most part benevolent.
                        These people, those that I could spot, seem to have a slightly green skin, but overall humanoid form (within my translation of them).

                        I will probably have more to connections once we gather our impressions with Georges.

                        #569

                        It had not been easy to convince his parents. His mother especially…
                        As a matter of fact, he had failed to convince them at all, and Tomkin had to decide by himself whether he wanted to follow Badul and his crew in his quest for unknown mysteries.

                        Tomkin had left a short written message for the Sharples, to tell them that they needn’t worry, and all would be fine.

                        Badul had decided to split his crew in two, having Austor in charge of the boats while he would go with a handful of trusted men by land.
                        Apparently, the young boy was aware of one portal which was close to their current location. This one was not part of the main network and was operating unknowingly to the officials. Its size was small, and travels were regulated by a local governor who used it for his clandestine business.
                        It was located deeper inside the lands of Golfindely, and the mountainous area of highlands planted with luxuriant trees made its access difficult.

                        Despite the boy’s initial reluctance at leading them to this place, Badul was determined to go, and very quickly Tomkin was excited at the opportunity to finally travel as he always had wanted to. It wouldn’t be by sea for now, but as Captain Bone said, every journey starts with one step.

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