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  • #492

    Yurick found a very nice surprise in his mailbox. A parcel from his red bearded friend Gustav with whom he had not spoken much till Vienna .
    Funnily it was for Yurick’s birthday, and his birthday was almost two months ago. And yet, it was perfectly synchronous with his many friends popping birthdays. Malika first, soon followed by Aina, and others.

    In the parcel, there was a big stuffed panda, and an old video game Yurick was very fond of when he was a kid. It was called Monkey Island… A funny pirate’s game. He liked the island and monkey imageries. Like being in an island recently, yet not being cut off from the rest of the world…

    Oh, and there was another game, one he didn’t know about, Grim Fandango, with skeletons on the cover, like playing some strange cluedo game…

    And a novel from Proust, with Yurick’s name on it! A parody from the style of Proust’s contemporary, Balzac included…

    Wow… so many syncs. He would call his friend in the afternoon.

    #475

    It had been real hard since Momma and Poppa weren’t around no more. Twilight was four when they got shot dead, and she could hardly remember their faces now. Sometimes she had memories come to mind, this real pretty woman, brushing her hair at night. One hundred strokes, she would say, make your hair real pretty. It made her feel sad because she wished it were true.

    Her brother Jo, he was only ten when they got killed. He was the one found them. They’d been shot. Jo, he took it real hard. Sometimes he’d get this far away and sad look and Twilight knew he was remembering. She wanted to hug him, but he’d be all shut off.

    Anyways it was real hard to keep the ranch going after that. Her brother Elroy, he was the oldest. He was fifteen when Momma and Poppa died. So he took on being the man of the house. Sometimes he would try and boss Jo and her round, and Twilight would give him a real hard time. She was just jesting though, she knew he was just doing his best to keep the El Disperso Ranch running and she was real proud of him.

    It was real hard though. Winter had been hard. They all were fearing they might have to sell the blue bull just to keep the wolves from the door next winter. Elroy, he was right pig headed though about that bull. Jo would say to Elroy “we have to sell that bull, Elroy and Elroy would get mad and say “no ways we selling that bull Jo”. One day they nearly came to blows over that bull.

    It was the only time Twilight seen Elroy get real mad with Jo. They were real close those two. They were all close really. They had to keep together when Momma and Poppa died. Uncle Bart turned up at the news of their folks dying, wanted to take the ranch, but Elroy , well he got Poppa’s rifle and chased Uncle Bart away. Elroy said he would have shot Uncle Bart had he tried any harder to take the ranch. Twilight would look in his eyes when he told the story and she knew he weren’t jesting. A few others tried to interfere also. Somehow they all stayed together and kept the ranch.

    Elroy won that blue bull. It was real rare and very fine and people would pay plenty for a bull like that bull. Elroy said he won it anyhow. He turned up with it one day, and he was real quiet. Twilight saw him whispering to Jo, and Jo looked real concerned. She thought it best not to ask too many questions and so she kept what she seen to herself. But she couldn’t help but be wondering.

    Twilight wanted to help take the load off her brothers so she got herself a job dancing in the saloon in town. She liked to call it performing though. Sounded more high class. She watched the other dancers till she taught herself to do it. She would hide in the saloon and watch them. That was one good thing about not having a Momma and a Poppa. She could pretty well do what she wanted. She liked dancing and she knew she were real good at it and pretty soon she was the dancer everyone wanted to see. She’d rather have a Momma and Poppa though, truth be told.

    One of the other girls, Anna, she was real pretty too, got jealous and tried to get Twilight kicked out, said she was too young to be dancing . Anyhow Anna had a soft spot for Jo and so he soon sweet talked her round. Jo and Elroy were real good looking boys, and plenty of girls liked them so Twilight was pretty lucky to have them look out for her. ( Elroy said she should wear a blond wig for her dancing, like a disguise, and Twilight thought this was real funny. But she wore it anyway.) Anna got pregnant, and she said Jo was the daddy, but everyone in town knew she slept with plenty of fellows, and Jo weren’t having a bar of it. Anna got real fat with the baby and had to stop dancing and now she lived with some old fellow who was always drunk and would eye up Twilight when she was dancing. Sometimes Twilight would tease Jo about the baby and call him “daddio” and he would get real mad with her. But could be his, that’s the truth. Poor little baby but she were glad Jo weren’t stuck with that Anna.

    Twilight knew the men looked at her. She knew what they were thinking and she didn’t mind. She weren’t no fool though. She had plans. She was going to be somebody, not laid up with some damn sprog like that Anna. Some of the money she earned she’d give to Elroy, some of it she put in a tin can she kept hidden.

    Last night some fellow from out of town came in. A sheriff. She heard the girls whispering and giggling about him. Sheriff Ted Marshall was his name. He was real fine looking and all the girls were in a flutter hoping he would look at them. Twilight wondered what he was doing in town. She hoped it were nothing to do with that bull of Elroys.

    #463

    — A marmoset then… Georges said Salome grinning widely.
    — Yes. Did you get a name for him?
    Leo.
    — That’s cute… With his little white mane around his face, Malvina will love him.

    Leo had jumped on Salome’s shoulder, as it was a bit exhausting for the little creature to follow them.

    — You know they are disappearing on this island of Tikfijikoo where I was just before. I think they found the invasion of their habitat by humans no longer funny. Lots of them have already popped into another reality for their kind… It takes some adjustment to refocus and reconfigure the energy, but it seems to go smoothly, as Leo being here is proof.
    — Yes, as lots of old species on Earth ware doing. The relocation process is a bit energetically crowded, in a manner of speaking…
    Georges was finding usage of words in that dimension a bit uneasy. That ware was such an example of how language needed rearrangement when they talked about simultaneous events in both past and present. At least, he knew Salome was understanding beyond the words.

    Salome smiled and envisioned Georges and herself bathed into a field of fluid mulberry jelly colour, and around them some of the particles floating haphazardly around started to gather orbiting in rippling circles around them.
    Salome was remembering an undulating shape too that she could use as a tuning fork, and she added it inside the central circle.

    — Oh, you’re right…

    « the translation device ! » they both said simultaneously, bursting into laughter.

    — I always tend to forget about that funny toy Malvina once explained to me. And you know how much I love to play with it… when I remember it, of course…

    Malvina had told Georges that the particles which were in his field were assisting him in translation, and had a grounding and focusing effect.

    Leo started to applaud frantically at the new light quality of the energy.

    #459

    Frankly, Malvina seems a bit down, Tina said to Al after having read the play’s entry.
    Oh, well, I suppose she has too her bad hair days… sighed Al who had shaved his hair in a mohawk this morning. He was thinking of trying some new beliefs adjustments so that he would be able to regulate more precisely the flow of his hairs…
    In fact, he knew it was just as easy as knowing that the hair do not grow, just like trees do not grow.
    A bit like the mummy in that old book from Anne Rice who could just absorb the rays of the sun to regenerate his body…

    :fleuron:

    Malika was painting her toenails. Bright fuchsia.
    She would spend Thanksgiving with her family, and felt some lightness would be very needed in that environment.
    She had decided on a white outfit, with light blue and white coach purse and little heeled shoes.
    A little quartz pendant to complete the ensemble would be perfect.

    :fleuron:

    Malvina had finished preparing the vials of silgreen bloom’s potion. There were thirty three of them, all lined up, and now she could go for her walk to the village.
    Strangely, she became aware of an energy; in fact two energies. They were diffuse in the background before, but now, they were popping to the forefront, and very intensely.
    Visitors?

    That was unexpected…

    :fleuron:

    Salome had thought of a gift for Malvina. She had shown it mentally to Georges, and he had smiled in her mind warmly.
    And as they walked into the tunnels, they started to gather particles of matter of that dimension around their focus of attention, and slowly started to become translucent bodies, and then fully focused.

    The gift was following them.

    #444
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Dory woke up on the plane with a start. She’d had the strangest dreams, of crowds of people. So many people in her dreams! Mob crowds, lots of mob crowds, and then busy working crowds of people bustling around working on something, some ground plan. Then there was the train lines right next to the sea, and thinking, saying to someone, We have to wait for them at home, it’s on higher ground, and upon seeing how close the train lines were to the sea, saying Oh they will never reach us if that’s the way they’re coming, because the big waves were coming again, and would swallow up the train. In the big wooden house on the hill there was Dan, unwell, mentally unwell, from taking those pills the night before without Dory’s knowledge. Dan’s sister told Dory in the dream, He’s staying here with us, and then Dory lunged at her, clawing at her face. As she left the house, she turned to Dan’s sister and said You realize that I do love you (even though she often hated her). Then there was the tall black man, who was he?
      Dory called to a stewardess for coffee and wished desperately for a cigarette. The man with the eyes that winked at her, who was he? Before she fell asleep, his face popped into her head, and zoomed into crystal clarity, and his eyes blinked or winked at her in mutual recognition. He looked familiar but still she couldn’t place him….dark and swarthy, with peircing eyes….

      #1849
      Jib
      Participant

        Asaris — The blue men’s world — by Írtak

        The race of the blue men was originating from a far off star system they called Asaris in a dimension quite different from the ones of Quintin and of Malvina.
        Their connection with us is quite interesting in that they have managed to project aspects of themselves in other dimensions and give them shapes. One blue man, in a manner of speaking, may be the “result” of a common projection by several inhabitants of Asaris, merged aspects and common intent. They can be associated with pop-ins in a way, or with energy exchange, but the action is different.

        While projecting, they are aware of their own focus in Asaris and of the other focuses they are projecting in other dimensions. Some of them can do that in many dimensions… I’ve not yet been able to really understand the process and how they can maintain the focuses… but that is filtered through my current understanding of the process. While different focuses of essences are “independent”, the projections of the blue men are quite connected to their originating point in Asaris.

        Andrimiñ is one of them. One of the participating essence is connected to Blöhmul who also have focuses in the other dimensions. In him I feel also the essence Tomkin.

        #389
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          In actuality, Sumelfi was just pretending to be busy in front of Becky. All this record keeping, so popular with earthlings, was quite simply unnecessary. Anyone at all could access any information at all, in no time at all. Sumelfi and her colleagues had had many a laugh at their assigned individuals and their vast librairies and tag clouds and piles of printed paper records.

          The job of the Sumafi Elves was to facilitate finding the right information at the right time, that was all, and if the earthlings felt happier thinking there were actual physical ‘records’, then for the time being, the elves were happy to go along with the illusion.

          If only they knew, Sumelfi giggled, the infinitely hugely infinite amount of so called ‘records’ and ‘information’, not to mention its ever-changing malleability, why they’d quite possibly feel completely overwhelmed. Well, thought Sumelfi, I suppose that is the point of Me.

          #373
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Tina had been wondering if she wanted a child , and was considering the personal and ethical implications of this. There had been much discussion in the Reality Times recently of placing restrictions on the number of children couples could have, in order to counteract the growing population problem. This had been discussed many times over the past years, however the issues involved were becoming more pressing. People may be required to apply, and undergo suitability testing, if they wished to be parents. Areas such as any past criminal history, alcohol dependency issues, etc, may automatically exclude one from eligibility for parenthood. This was being hotly debated again, with many feeling it was violation of their personal freedom.

            She asked Becky what she thought. Becky was looking in the mirror and pulling faces.

            Oh doesn’t worry me. Yikes! I don’t want any horrid little rugrats anyway. Give me dogs any day. Do you like my new haircut Tina?

            #340
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              hmmmm, said Arona, this is rather a predicament.

              I am going to have to face this head on, she said to the others in her usual practical manner. Okay I can’t look after this baby in the cave, I had better pop out for a bit and see if I can bump into a spare nanny somewhere. Then the nanny can look after the baby while I continue my explorations

              Arona looked down at the wee baby face though, and it was so very endearingly ugly, that she wondered if she would be able to leave little Yikesy with a nanny. She hugged Yikesy to her lovingly.

              I will just have to play it by ear, she thought, although she knew the answer already.

              #354
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                — But we’ll have to find a pseudonym, Al had said to Becky, as they were discussing the unusual play last day.
                — Yes! Becky had said enthusiastically.

                And Al had known he was going to love the surprise that Becky would be finding for them.

                Now, he was waking up, and the sun was bright and the sky clear above the waters. He’d had dreams of a huge reception, with lots of foods at all levels of a huge building, that people were eating and eating, but still there was always enough for everyone, and more, diversity too.

                And there was this groundhog day dream before (and a popping blue dot in his peripheral vision as he was jotting down his thoughts, err he always thought jolted, that would make Becky laugh again), and in his groundhog day, he was winning millions in many different ways, but all that money had a purpose to help him in a rescue mission. He could not die before his mission was accomplish, or everything would start again, and again the abundance would be here in the form of millions…

                When he saw Becky’s last entry, he wished he could hug all of them soon…

                Yurara Fameliki… I love that name, he said to the noisy bird nesting on top of his window…

                #353
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Nora Long was dying. She knew she didn’t have long left, and she had some affairs still to attend to before she was no longer able. Nora was a childless spinster, a frugal recluse with an uncanny knack for winning premium bond and lottery prizes; nothing big enough to attract much attention, but more than enough for her needs. Consequently, she had quietly amassed a fortune over the years ~ and she wasn’t about to let the state have it all.

                  Nora had spent most of her 88 years dreaming, and talking to ghosts and spirits. She wrote all of it down in notebooks, hundreds and hundreds of them, until the advent of the computer in more recent years. She had splashed out and bought one, and gamely taught herself how to use it, keeping her journals online from then on.

                  Nora discovered how to google one day. Wondering what in the world she might want to search for, a name popped into her head: Yurara Fameliki.

                  Nora had learned to trust her impulses, and she searched for the unusual name, double checking first with the voice in her head as to the correct spelling.

                  Nora began to read the story on the websites first page. Three days later, she was still reading it, as it grew day by day. Nora was almost sorry she had already chosen to die. At last she had found some people she could relate to!

                  But Nora was too weary to change her mind. She did have a plan though, a plan that cheered her greatly. On the websites pages she had noticed a little sign saying ‘Buy a Drink’.

                  #344
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Becky waited patiently at the doorstep on the third floor of her apartment building, trying to hail a gondola cab. The canvas bag over her shoulder was heavy. In it she had a thermos flask of rice water and poppy heads for her friend Sam, who had telephoned her with the news that he was unwell.

                    While she waited, she wondered about Tina and Al. They hadn’t said anything, but Becky sensed there were some issues bubbling under the surface. Tina’s strange behaviour when she answered the phone; Al’s uncharacteristically rude discounting of the outing she’d planned for them all….well! They will soon bounce back, Becky thought, If there’s anything I can do, I’m sure they’ll ask. Meanwhile, Becky chanted the mantra, It Matter’s Not; Everything Is Perfect…..

                    #281
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      That morning Fiona knew she needed to change her name. Fiona was a nice name, and she was quite fond of it, but she needed to reflect the inner changes which were happening and it didn’t feel right any more. (Well were there inner changes and did she need to reflect them? Buggered if she knew. All she knew was that it did not feel right.) At that very moment she looked down at the book she was reading and instantly the name “Finn” popped out at her. As this was a variation of Fiona, it seemed perfect to her. So really she wasn’t changing her name at all, just focusing on a different aspect of it, or something.

                      #1471
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        [Sticky] means it won’t disappear below new discussions that may pop up every now and then…
                        Sticks to the top ;))

                        #83
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          Where the Janitor may assist you in navigating into the things available in your reality.
                          (a help-thread in short)

                          Note: the Janitor declines any responsibility for any loss or any Patel “pop-in” that may mess up with your reality.

                          Textile format help
                          or here
                          to test your formatting

                          #79
                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            These are excerpts from Yuki’s diary, explaining some of the details of the experiment called — Malvina’s story —.

                            Note: for the reader not familiar with all the names here is a quick reminder:

                            • Araili > Yann, Írtak, Sam, Jacob …
                            • Armelle > Fiona, Arona, Tina, Qixi …
                            • Rafaela > Dory, Illi, Becky, Rodney …
                            • Yuki > Quintin, Al, Janice …

                            September 12 th, 2007

                            Today, an experiment has been launched by Quintin. Time will tell if it will bear some fruit, but the idea sounds good.
                            Having people join in a story telling, and see what happens, what are the “lessons” one can draw from this…

                            Armelle, Rafaela and Araili are already on the starting-blocks, though Quintin is not quite aware yet.

                            I can hear some thoughts: Let’s say for the moment that there are no rules. We will see what prompts the desire for having rules…

                            September 13 th

                            Some of the people familiar with Janice and her friends’ adventures have already joined in with much enthusiasm.
                            This first comment seems very promising.

                            Right now, it feels easy and fun.

                            Quintin seems to think that everything is very straightforward.
                            The magical world with the cave in one part, separated from the “real” world. (Two Worlds, and he thinks that will be enough to content Rafaela, ahaha, how presumptuous)
                            The first he sees as a representation of what psychologists think of as “subconscious”, and the other being the conscious, physical part.

                            But of course, he thinks he knows better than that. He calls the first one “subjective” rather than subconscious, because it’s a translation of subjects which unfold in many related objects in the “objective” or physical world.
                            That’s a good point, though a bit distorted. It would be better to say Malvina’s World is a translation of the subjective, in the manner of a Heroic Dimension.
                            But the thing is, that he missed the point in thinking one World is more “real” than the other.
                            We’ll be having some fun soon…

                            First remark… The second comment of the story has been interrupted abruptly in the middle of a sentence. That is interesting. We will urge Quintin to leave it as it is, despite his feeling of it being awkward.
                            We will appeal to his imagination.
                            It seems he has heard the suggestion.

                            September 14 th

                            For the most part, the story starts to get much involvement. Lots of energies are being projected into it, and with every adjunct, each participant’s perception stretches to accommodate the changes and smooth out the bumps in their own sense of continuity.

                            But as I expected, some challenges seem to appear already.
                            Is it raining or not in that world?
                            The question seems simple, but it is very profound and Fiona seems to struggle a bit with it, as is Quintin. The question frame itself [“that World”] shows where the difficulty lies.

                            He seems to avoid the discrepancy and pretend that he has not seen it. Mmmm, avoiding the obstacles… that will very soon come right back in front of you dear Quintin, for Dory is quite playful.
                            At least Fiona has been challenging Dory for not paying attention… Armelle’s ineffable loving ruthlessness!
                            How will it unfold?
                            Rafaela seems to be delighting herself as though she’s preparing some mischief, but Dory struggles in the “back”…

                            September 15 th

                            Dory is indeed very playful and her imagination is unrestrained. I extend much appreciation to this focus of Rafaela, especially as Quintin has to stretch his imagination to make things “fit”.

                            Quintin is still avoiding the issues that appear sporadically and prefers to stay focused on his own perception of the story… Careful Quintin :face-smile:

                            Yann joins the fun —objectively, that is, for Araili has been present already since the very beginning.

                            September 16 th

                            Halcyons days…
                            My dear friend Archie is answering some of Quintin and Yann’s questions.
                            Something starts to dawn on Quintin. But his mind is on other matters.

                            He understands that the energies of the writers are melding in writing the story, but he still tends to think that they blend completely.

                            September 18 th

                            Quintin has been drawing some of the characters of the story. It’s interesting.
                            He had good insights, as Yann will tell him later that his clothes today were exactly the same as the colours he had drawn.

                            Characters drawn:

                            • Mavina, Leörmn the dragon and weaszchilla, Írtak, Huÿgens (and Fjutch), Arona and Illi (the gripshawk)
                            • Malika, Quintin, Yann, Fiona and Dory

                            Interestingly, Fiona resolves her issues in her cave.
                            Dory too, but she did not need the cave to do this.

                            September 21 st

                            For Quintin, the story seems to lose all common sense, as some characters move from World to World. You could have expected that Quintin!
                            And Dory pops in and out, in her mind, in her dream state, or in future timeline mixed with present or past one.
                            Quintin will soon realize that he himself is doing this constantly, though he does not register it.

                            But the worst thing for him is that there are bleedthroughs in between Worlds. The Reality Times newspaper was brilliant Rafaela, a perfect trigger for the beliefs that the Worlds are closed and impermeable to each other!

                            Archie has been answering new questions about that story and this had been quite interesting for all of the participants.
                            There is much for them to digest from the realization that each of them had been creating their own versions of the stories through their perceptions. And that they were each having their version of the story, drawing from each other’s input, like a conductor of an orchestra incorporating some instruments.

                            Of course, some things still matter, and one of the point of the story is also to discover these.

                            September 22 nd

                            Quintin has been drawing new characters.

                            Characters drawn:

                            • Båd Al’Guz (Bådul), BelleDora, Buckberry the dragon, the twin dragon eggs, Archibald the parrot, Sanso the Wanderer
                            • Illi Fergusson, another Illi that Quintin has tried to sneak in as a bait for Dory, with hints that she is disengaged (or “dead” in common vernacular) and merges with others of her focuses…
                            • Jacqueline Bleomelen (Nanny Gibbon), Lord Wrick, his great grand children the twins Cuthbert and India Louise, Manfred, William P. Jobsworth the painter

                            A new perception trick: Dory felt relieved upon seeing the moth feelers of BelleDora.
                            She had at first thought they were whiskers, which was not Quintin’s intent…

                            September 23 rd

                            Quintin seems to have connected to a map drawn by Lord Wrick, when the old Lord has started to document his great grand children travels.

                            Quintin had tried to put some annotations on this fragment, but he doesn’t yet completely understand that his perception of this World, though accurate, is only valid in this present moment, and may change at any time.

                            Up to now, here are the names he could find:

                            • North: the Icy Lands, and Dragon Cemeteries
                            • Center: Goldfindely, homeland of Arona, connected to the Warring Kingdoms of Lan’ork by the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer. The Isthmus of the Dragon Head seems to lead to Malvina’s cave and hideout. Mount Elok’ram is pointed as the highest place of the World yet discovered. Three main rivers are drawn: in the ancient myths of the people of this land, they represent the three Daughters of Ghört, weavers of men’s destinies: Tibreÿa, Uleÿa, and Snimeÿa. Snimeÿa cuts the thread of life, which is shown as the river leads after many meanders to the Marshes of Doom.
                            • Far East, North: the Land of Båd Al’Guz, Åsgurdy. A harsh mountainous land of islands and seas.
                              Both parts of the World seem to ignore each other till now, as they are separated by the Great Rift, which in the past has deterred many intrepid navigators.
                            • South: the Desert Lands. Illi’s birthplace, rarely explored by humans thus unaware of most of its marvels, gripshawks nomadic tribes included.

                            When he discussed Arona’s village with Fiona, Quintin had the vision of some dolphin-like creatures, but bright yellow. They are called golfindels and are mostly seen on the northern shores of Arona’s homeland, which is thus called Golfindely.

                            #265

                            After Sanso heard the voice “the reason you are looking for is right under your nose” he thought he had better go and have another look at that smelly, well was it smelly? hmmm perhaps not, just a bit mouldy, old cape. Just in case it was a clue and he had missed it.

                            He was surprised and delighted to see Arona, who was still sitting quietly meditating.

                            Oh, goodness, said Arona startled, Who are you?

                            I am Sanso and some people call me a wretched outcast madman wanderer, and Sanso laughed heartily.

                            Arona laughed too, out of politeness and a bit hesitantly, unsure if Sanso was joking or not. Well your words not mine she said

                            Sanso laughed heartily again which Arona found a bit odd. My words indeed he said And who are you and what brings you to explore this cave?

                            I am Arona, and this is Mandrake. I popped in to find the source of the beautiful music I could hear, but my overall mission is learning about magic.

                            Sanso had stopped listening and was gazing at the round glass ball filled with the sand shapes.

                            Good Lord! he gasped, Is that a sabulmantium ! And a very early model too. This is a classic! The later models are much more complex, this is very fundamental, but beautifully made.

                            Oh really, well it is great fun

                            Sanso explained to Arona at length the more technical details of how a sabulmantium worked, and how it could be used like a compass.

                            Fascinating she said, and Mandrake rolled his eyes.

                            #246

                            Huÿgens was not much of a cat person.

                            He liked his dogs because they were solid, loyal companions, and he could count on them to take care of his herd of langoats.

                            Langoats were a kind of three-eyed manic woolly and horned creatures, with a big sensing tongue, attracted to every new sound, or scent, or colour, or texture… well almost anything new that came before their eyes (when said eyes were not covered by thick layers of wool that is). And as their memory was short too, all kinds of things were always new to them.

                            That was why the dogs were extremely useful in channeling their movements; not that the langoats would have hurt themselves, because they were very able to provide for themselves, and jump from the top of a cliff without suffering much injuries. But they could very well loose all notion of their physicality and pop in and out of the fabric of time and space.

                            When they came back, because they always did magically come back, even after months of wandering, they would at times be reconfigured into another creature, and that would be pointless applying too much effort in trying to bring them back to their previous form, because it was said, in relation to their stubbornness that once a langoat, always a langoat

                            Huÿgens had already lost some, especially during the shearing season.

                            And he had found himself back once with a cumbersome hippoliphant, and a bouncy shulimeek instead of two langoats.

                            Anyway, langoats wool was a very precious asset, highly sought after, as it could very easily bind with magical spells. Most of the clothes made for royalties were actually made with langoat wool, and it was also said that some enchanters had used langoat wool to make magical tapestries that would shapeshift, and reveal things to their owners.

                            So losing a langoat was not small concern for Huÿgens, and he had to be careful during the shearing season to leave some mops of hair to cover the three eyes of the beasts, so as to curb their insatiable thirst for discoveries.

                            But these days, Huÿgens had been very concerned about his herding dog Fjutch. Fjutch was a fluffy black dog he had found when it was still a puppy. He had trained it to become the head of his pack of dogs, when he had noticed the old rheumatic Thöm was taking the puppy under its wing —because the old faithful dog was knowing that it would depart and would reconfigure into a new form, but would not allow that to happen, not before he could have found a reliable companionship for his beloved master Huÿgens.

                            The healing properties of the langoat milk seemed to had done wonders once again, and Fjutch dis-ease was probably just a false alarm, but it had reminded Huÿgens how much he appreciated his dogs, every one of them, every day he was with them.

                            As for the cats… Illi, that was her name, had decided to come back to the cave, and he was showing her the way to the place where he had found her. He had asked BelleDora to pack a few things for her. He could not give Illi the beverage she was referring to as “coffee”, as that plant was not found in their region, but in compensation, he gave her a gourd of langoat milk, because she seemed like she would probably need some.

                            When he left her near the hole, he had some tears in his eyes when Illi hugged Fjutch very tenderly, as if the dog was reminding her of something dear. Illi after a moment hesitation, where she was like speaking to herself and not knowing what to do, finally hugged Huÿgens too, thanking him for everything he had done.

                            And off she was… free and unfettered as a gripshawk

                            ***

                            When Illi had finished arguing with Illi about having her hug the big man, while this was not manners of her kind, she sighed as she saw that the opening she had first thought was here (yeah, because I fell in there! she said), her senses where telling her that it was now closed…

                            How quaint said Illi for herself.
                            — Well, as a matter of fact, it reminds me of something, said Illi F. There was that delicious gentleman, John Lubbock who said “What we see depends mainly on what we look for” and somehow it seems perfect.
                            — I don’t know any Grubbeck, grumbled Illi, a bit irritated that the hole, which was there before, wouldn’t be here, now she needed it.
                            — Lubbock was such a nice person, said Illi dreamily… Perhaps I could just try to have a peek inside the cave, if you let me.
                            — What?! Do again your wizzy wooey thing and I’ll strangle you! Don’t know how I would do it, but I’ll do it!
                            — Oh, you are so sluggishly gloomy! That was just to help you…
                            — Mmm, sorry for that, I was a bit upset, said Illi. What could you do?
                            — Just focus on the inside, and carry us both inside… But actually you would have to leave your body here, and we’ll probably see other things that do not belong to this place, but heck! that should be fun, Illi F said grinning widely.

                            They were interrupted by some munching sounds and ruffling heavy breath.

                            — What the bejeezus is that?! hissed Illi the cat (who didn’t even know how she knew so funny sounding words as bejeezus)
                            — Can’t you see? That’s obviously a dragon eating some bushes… How strange… replied Illi F airily.
                            — A WHAT? I HATE DRAGONS!
                            — Ahahah, relax, I was just pulling your leg.
                            — That’s not funny.
                            — Well he has funny colours by the way. Pinkish purple I wouldn’t dare to wear in London streets.
                            — That’s REALLY NOT FUNNY!
                            — Why so? You can’t see it anyway…
                            — And what if he sees me? Dragons are vicious creatures.
                            — He’s too busy eating these funny berries, and will probably collapse of exhaustion once he’s full.
                            — A chance! A vegetarian dragon!
                            — OK. Shall we try to find an entrance in the cave with my method, or do we ask the dragon? He looks well-mannered by the way.
                            — Oh, by the eyeballs of the Mighty Shrimp, you tell me…
                            — No, you choose.
                            — No, you.
                            — You…
                            — Ooooh, bugger off…

                            #217
                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              Never speechless for long, Dory wondered out loud if she should just hurry along into the cave and hope to catch up with some other expeditioners, or explore the area around the cave first.

                              Have a look around, a voice in her head said. Ever the wanderer, always curious to just see what’s around that next corner, and the next….Dory wandered through the strange tall rock shapes. In a sort of natural passageway between vertical rock faces she came upon a group of people squatting next to a large oblong hole in the ground. The womans shawls and headscarves were flapping madly in the wind as she conversed with a boy of about 13, and it seemed to Dory as though they were discussing moving something so that it wouldn’t be found. Dory stood perfectly still just watching, and somewhat strangely they didn’t seem to notice her standing there.

                              An older man with curly grey hair and a long maroon djelaba and a tall narrow brimless black hat started to hurry away, as if a decision had been made.

                              Dory watched him until he disappeared from view. When she looked back towards the hole in the ground, it had vanished, and so had the woman and the boy.

                              PPFFFT! Dory had been deserted again. She turned and headed back towards the cave. Suddenly she felt hungry, and an image of a plate of cool crunchy coleslaw popped into her head.

                              I hope they’ve laid food on in the cave, she said.

                              #209
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                By the time Illi had finished reading the newspaper article she felt thoroughly confused. Mechanically she folded the newspaper neatly and then lit a cigarette, resting her elbows on the breakfast table and her chin in her hands. She gazed through the ribbons of blue smoke and the dust drifting through the sunbeams, wondering if she was dreaming, dead, or alive. It was becoming so hard to tell the difference.

                                Oh well, I’ll think about it later, she thought, and mentally popped it into her clue and riddle box. Her mind wandered back to the story she’d just been reading, and the charming illustrations. The drawing of the young man in the white robe had seemed familiar, and she liked his name too…Sanso, The Wanderer.

                                As she imagined him, she felt herself lurch ever so slightly sideways, and as she did, the image in her mind of Sanso became suddenly life-like…incredibly so! He was looking at her in astonishment, and taking a step backwards, saying Lordy! not another one appearing out of thin air!

                                Illi looked around and found herself not in the sunny breakfast room but in a sandy cave, with a little girl in a wooly jumper, a young man in a white robe holding a large rusty key, and a parrot.

                                Suddenly Illi didn’t care anymore whether she was alive or dead, dreaming or awake. This was beginning to look like fun.

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