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  • “I’t‘s Agent V here.” “For God’s sake, how many times, Agent V?” “Sorry, forgot the damn code. Anyway, the magpies have landed. Or are about to land.” ... · ID #4829 (continued)
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  • #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.

        #199

        When Dorothy Mc Leane, the imperviously impetuous and buoyant archaeologist, temporarily reduced to dust shawls in a small antique boutique of the coast of Madagascar, had been finally coming to her mind, she had felt so out of place.

        She had been in many places at once, and these have hardly been vacations at all. Well, all she had wanted at first was to follow that funny lemur winking on a placard, which was hinting at a funny expedition in a cave.

        But that may just have been phoney gooey advertisement, as she was now stranded in that shoppe with a stupid parrot. No-name parrot…

        That’d make Fiona laugh for sure… she thought; she would say that she wasn’t doing things in halves. Can’t even think if I can find a postcard big enough to tell her everything, she had laughed.

        Well, you don’t have a name by chance? she suddenly asked the bright bird.

        Archibaaaaald howled the parrot joyfully.

        Bugger this, I knew that… Dory couldn’t help but thinking.

        Aaaaaarchibaaaaald

        Oh!, she had started to feel exasperated. Archibald would take care of the key anyway, no need to stay here any much longer.

        And right after the parrot had flown through the window, as she was leaving the shoppe and heading to the mini-van where the distraught guide had been obviously looking for her since hours, she couldn’t help but wonder at the number of noisy Italian tourists who had just seemed to pop in, crowding the tiny shawl shoppe…

        Wow… She could have bet they could have been as many as fifty seven…

        #188

        This morning, Fiona and Quintin had a small impromptu chat —or rather, prompted by the story they were all weaving, that Archie, the puppet black panther, had been telling them last week-end that it was a magic connection between all of them…

        Quintin: Your story was great!

        Fiona: Thank you :) So was yours.

        Have you written any more since I last looked at the story?

        Quintin: no, I’m not that much inspired… I even considered to wrap in up in a way, but seeing you were all drawing so much from it, I think I will leave it open ever after…

        Fiona: no, wrap it up if you feel.

        I have drawn what I wanted. I will go and blow up the cave if we don’t finish it :)

        Quintin: Ahahaha! Don’t restrict yourself ;)

        Fiona: When you started the Malvina story, did you have an idea where it would go, or did you pick that one because you had no idea?

        Quintin: This one nagged me because there were many people I felt behind it and I did not know how to get them to show up and make their presences known. And I felt that it was loose enough too, to allow people to jump into it; and there was your initial interest in the picture ;)

        Fiona: The endearing dragons…

        Quintin: Yeah…

        But I had strictly no idea about the rest. It was just a bet, on luck…

        That’s funny, because I had a strange impression of a little girl yesterday, in a futuristic city, named something like Janice , and it was like she knew now what she wanted to do, and it was something similar to that, something like creating worlds for other people, in which they could have fun, or heal, or explore things…

        Fiona: And did she have any impression of what form that could take? Like books, or games or what…

        Quintin: No, it was much more “real” in fact…

        Fiona: you know like the card-captor game which I suppose is interactive, so real

        Quintin: Yeah, perhaps a bit like that, yes; or like creating a ball of energy in which people can be drawn and experience as they will. It’s only a translation, but that’s the idea… in a way, that’s very similar to a game or a book, but only that it just feels totally “real”

        Fiona: So a little bit like I have done with the story, to resolve something

        Quintin: yeah, exactly, or with your paintings

        Fiona: It can be really useful to take on other personas to do that, even like in drama type situations, being someone else…

        Quintin: Yeah, people can unleash their imagination.

        And I think there are still lots of things that we can expand in this universe in fact, not only related to the cave…

        Fiona: such as? eggsamples?

        Quintin: You said it! The eggs and relationships with dragons, all the magical artifacts or creatures. Didn’t you want a baby dragon?

        Fiona: Yeah, I told you I did, but you just said some riddle!

        Quintin: Did I? That’s not like me ;)

        Fiona: Ahahhaha! It is you to the core

        Quintin: LOL, damn me!

        Fiona: Well, that is a bit strong, but …

        Quintin: Ahahahahah. I said you would have to earn his trust? (or hers, for that matter)

        Fiona: I can’t remember the eggsact wording, I think I had to work for it though, like you weren’t just handing out dragons on a plate

        Quintin: It could bound with you very strongly and help you unravel your unknown magical powers. It’s not just a creature, it’s a complex personality, you cannot just take it like a puppy. There is a sharing between the two…

        Fiona: So are you going to allocate baby dragons to people or what? Or shall I just go and find an egg that no one knew was there :)

        Quintin: Ahahah, no, they will not be allocated, they will choose their own partners

        Fiona: Ahahaha, one minute you say it is my story! And now you are back in control

        Quintin: Ahahaha, the story has a willing of its own too…

        Try to do what you want, it’s not a matter of control ; it’s just you’ll know what clicks and what does not…

        Quintin: And actually, I don’t think everyone will be interested in dragons…

        Fiona: How does a dragon help one learn magic powers?

        Quintin: It’s just because there is an openness between the two; let me find something for you, that Elias (you know, Michaela’s partner), has told to me and Yann, when we had them on the phone last month.

        Elias : I would express to you that, as you focus your energies with each other, and you allow yourselves to merge and feel into each others’ energies, you may in actuality each discover some obstacles that the other may not necessarily be aware of yet, and you can share that with each other, and therefore facilitate your interactions even further.

        Fiona: And how having a baby dragon could help unleash our magic powers then?

        Quintin: It helps because it reinforces your trust in your own abilities to connect. It’s not directing, it’s a sharing and exploration for both of them; that’s why they are picky. As you would be picky too, knowing you would share together all the darkest corners…

        Fiona: I am not sure if i have dark corners ;)

        Quintin: it was a metaphor :D

        Fiona: ahahahhahahahahahah

        Fiona: I know, so was mine :D

        Quintin: ahahahahah

        Fiona: I was thinking I feel really accepting of myself

        Quintin: Yeah, that’s the point in the little adventure before you meet it.

        You have shown your trust in yourself and in your abilities, and your self-centeredness, which is essential, for the dragon doesn’t want a frail personality. Because he drops his defenses too when he shares and bonds.

        Fiona: Well I think it sounds scarey now, what if no dragon picked me…

        Quintin: There will be instant recognition. And you don’t “need” a dragon actually, that’s what is important: it’s a catalyst, nothing more, nothing less…

        Fiona: True.

        Quintin: Like Arona managed to sneak into the cave without giving the answer to the riddle (egg-sitingly) because it mattered not to her, whatever the outcome, she was directing of herself.

        Fiona: I felt like I have pictures now to assist me. I link strongly to pictures as a quick reference when I start to feel something like a negative emotion, for instance I may start to worry about how I am going to have enough money, or whatever, and I could quickly link to the spider picture

        Quintin: you mean, you create an imagery, right? That is something which I like in your stories and emails; even though it is not necessary to create imagery, it’s always so entertaining, like having these funny creatures pop in the cave!

        Fiona: Ahahahaha yes

        Quintin: And also, in creating imagery, it helps you seeing it in a more neutral way

        Fiona: I suppose it is just a quick trigger for the desired belief. I can link in quickly with the child, when I start to feel left out, for example.

        Quintin: yeah, beliefs as an alphabet or a palette, neutral, but that can create words and sentences or images. And the imagery of the child was very similar for me, to that of the playfulness picture

        Fiona: Yeah, I know… That’s what I said to you with the playfulness picture

        Quintin: Of course, you know :)

        Fiona: That I related most to the figure of blue hat… and big feet

        Quintin: Ahahaha, stomping on the poor key-fish

        Fiona: Nearly…

        Quintin: Have to go now, thank you for this enjoyable conversation

        Fiona: See you! :)

        #143
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Dory yawned and stretched. She was wrapped in a lovely feeling, but as usual couldn’t recall any details of her dream. Lately though, she’d get a phrase, or a snapshot to give her a clue. The Dance of the Lemurs. How silly is that, she thought, whatever does it mean. She popped it into her Clue Box with all the other riddles and clues.

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        Daily Random Quote

        • “I’t‘s Agent V here.” “For God’s sake, how many times, Agent V?” “Sorry, forgot the damn code. Anyway, the magpies have landed. Or are about to land.” ... · ID #4829 (continued)
          (next in 23h 06min…)

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