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  • #2237

    “You know what?” Harvey was once again breaking the silence in an awkward manner after being lost in thoughts for what had seemed like eons to Lavender (or was it Lilac?), who was kind enough and certainly wise enough not to interrupt the whatever-was-happening process inside his skull.
    “Mmm?”
    “All those piglets, I read an article recently they could be used efficiently as shepherd dogs.”
    “Now what? You want us to have sheep now?” Lavender was appalled but displaying still an impeccable composure, thinking it might be another outbreak of being taken over by aliens.
    “Nah. Just telling you there would certainly be loonies out there wanting to take pigs as dogs. Perhaps we should leave a few on the doorstep of that mad lady, you know… She looks a bit devastated, and sure a little 200 pounds pig would help her stay grounded”
    “Sure they grew big fast those little buggers.”

    #2176

    In reply to: Closing up

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Speaking of the cloud:

      learn non mostly managed — strong piglets process / warm listen girl — reality let start others thought — unexpected longer story growing waiting escape

      #1214
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        “This is a long process, Godfrey , a very long process” Elizabeth said with a wry chuckle. She had left her characters to their own devices for so long she didn’t know where to jump in again with her directing.

        “The process is the point, dear” Pig Littleton replied dryly. “Pass the peanuts, would you?”

        “There are hundreds of probable possibilities, in fact there are so many of them that I hardly seem able to find a place to start.”

        “Start anywhere Liz, and then stop when you’re finished.” Godfrey said with his mouth full of peanuts. “Ideas are like peanuts, you can savour them one at a time…”

        “Or shove a whole handful in your mouth at once, eh Piggy” retorted Elizabeth, frowning as Godfrey tried to munch, swallow and speak all at the same time. “If I shove too many in my mouth at once, I can’t remember each individual peanut, it all becomes a glob of sticky….”

        “Peanut butter spread? And what’s wrong with that?” Pig Littleton smiled.

        “Well for one thing Godfrey, all those bits of peanuts stuck in your teeth is rather off putting you know.”

        “Why?” asked Godfrey.

        “Why?” Elizabeth repeated, perplexed.

        “Yes, why? Why do you perceive the physical evidence of my enjoyment of peanuts captured for a moment between my teeth as off putting?”

        “When you put it like that, dear Piggy, I confess I don’t have an answer” Elizabeth replied with a snort. “As a matter of fact, I have no idea where this conversation is leading at all!”

        “Aha, and there you have it!”

        “Have what, Godfrey? What on earth do you mean?”

        “Well, why should it be leading anywhere in particular? The process is the point, Liz, not the destination!”

        “Hang on a minute, are you trying to tell me that this conversation about peanuts is a meaningful process with a point?”

        Godfrey Pig Litteton laughed, spraying bits of peanut everywhere and nearly choking. “Who said anything about meaningful?”

        “Well what’s the point of it if it isn’t meaningful?”

        “If it’s meaning you want, you can read all sorts of things into it. On the other hand, if it’s fun you want, why worry about meaning?”

        Elizabeth shook her head, perplexed. “Is it fun that I want?”

        “Don’t you know?!” asked Godfrey, in mock surprise.

        “Well of course I want fun! Everyone does, surely!”

        “Then why” Godfrey said with exaggerated patience “worry about meaning?”

        “I’m not worried about meaning, Piggy, you’re twisting my words, you tricky rascal!”

        “My dear Elizabeth, I quote you: ‘What’s the point of it if it isn’t meaningful’”

        “Pfft” she replied. “I might delete that comment. Trouble is, if I do, the rest of it won’t make sense.”

        “Worried about making sense now, are we, dear?” said Godfrey with a sly grin.

        Godfrey, you’re making me sound so old fashioned, worrying about sense and meaning! Pass the peanuts.”

        #1210

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

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

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

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

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

        #1150

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

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

        :fleuron:

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

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

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

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

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

        #1114

        Inside the cave, the presence of Leormn, though not completely gone, had diminished strongly. Most of the creatures inside the cave were thriving on his presence and his continuous reshaping of the corridors or the chambers. His presence was fading out gradually, and some of the more sensitive creatures were beginning to feel a discomfort, a kind of emptiness or a sensation of cold.

        Malvina was not alarmed yet, it was a good thing he had allowed himself that little escapade. In a subtle way, he was reconciling some aspects of himself that he had been unaware of yet, and it was also a surprise to Malvina that the gates would reopen in that particular time frame, to the long lost sister of the Duane. Her awareness of what her dragon was doing was dim, and it had been so since the door had shut after the passage of Arona. This young girl had more than one trick up her mouldy cloak, and though she was unaware of most of them, she had an innate sense of using them wittingly.

        Malvina smiled at the thought that she was quite similar to the girl when she was young… a long time ago.

        But for now, she had other processes to set in motion. She focused on herself and adjusted her energy to match the signature of her friends Georges and Salome. It didn’t took long. Their presence was quite strong. As they were busy at the moment, she decided to go for a walk and meet them on her way.

        :fleuron:

        Georges and Salome were in the pool chamber that Leormn had kindly created for them inside the cave. It was continuously provided in hot water by a spring located on the ceiling and several families of glukenitch had furnished the place with the perfect amount of light…

        Georges was following her progression from a ledge made of a rock similar to granite. He’d always been fascinated by her way of expressing her grace and technical mastery in any domain. When they had met, she couldn’t swim… and she wouldn’t. It’d been years later, when she had got rid of her wariness of water that she had considered the idea.
        Now she was as comfortable inside and outside water, as well as in many different environments.

        Being continuously connected, their energy field mingled in such an intimate way, he could easily turn his attention on her physical sensations; all the tiniest movements of the water upon her skin and also all of the adjustments she was making to her body inside and outside to improve the efficiency of her movements.

        He dived off his observation point to play with her.
        Alerted by his movement, she went deeper into the pool. He knew that she hadn’t modified her body to the point of incorporating gills, because it was usually difficult for her to get rid of them afterward. She had a soft spot for apnea, though and she was quite able of staying under water for lengthy amount of time.

        Still focused on his swimming, he began to redirect certain aspects of his body consciousness. Some were unnecessary for his purpose, so he got rid of them; and he needed to give some other qualities to his skin. It took him a few seconds to shape-shift and he focused on his new physical senses to indicate him where she was.

        When she realized what Georges was doing, she resisted the impulse to go to the surface.
        What is he up to? she thought. When he’s in the process of shape-shifting his attention is so oriented inside that I can’t usually get any impression about his new shape, but

        A flash of light illuminated the water around him, and the rhythm of the blinking cells of his new skin was creating a time related pattern with an hypnotic effect. Salome was feeling drowsy and she had to maintain her attention on herself or she’d better get back to the surface soon. If she wanted to play with him now, she would have to change form too.

        #1111
        AvatarJib
        Participant

          With the winter coming so fast (no more season you see), Dory was busy tidying her patio waiting for the next plane to Long Pong.
          All the dusty trinkets and the artworks she had brought back from her different excavations; she had to put them into some shelter, just in case. Last week the temperature had plummeted so quickly. She had to take the warm clothes out of the closets and realized she also had to change some of them in the process. Some unfriendly moth had eaten the wool of her favorite sweater…
          She was feeling dull and empty. Almost like she had no more purpose. Doing that cleaning and tidying was a way of distracting herself from that impression, she knew it would pass.
          Since the departure of her friends, Yann and Yurick, she had felt a bit lonely, even with Dan being present.
          She lacked a new excavation project, one that would fill in her blood with excitement and passion.

          An odd thought made her shudder. For a moment she had considered the idea of having a baby.

          — “No!”
          Really, she should find something worthy of her unlimited energy and not something that would chain her in habits and force her attention outside of her. Though, she seemed quite short of energy lately… However, it was not the time, not the place… and merely not the life for it.

          She wondered : what were her friends doing?
          Yann and Yurick were most probably preparing their new book, and Finn had told her last time that she was on the verge of adopting a baby Orangatun“she would need spare jungle in her garden”, she chuckled at the sudden vision of Finn gardening her jungle… Well at least it would give her a good distraction.

          She stopped her tidying and came back inside the house. Where was the wireless phone again? Apparently everything was a mess… she’d have to rethink the “no” she had given Dan last time he had asked her if she needed a butler.

          Oh! under her former favorite sweater, of course! She took the phone and composed Finn’s number. Maybe she would extend her trip from Long Pong to New Zealand…

          #1056
          AvatarJib
          Participant

            Sam wanted to see by himself. He had suddenly remembered what Becky had told them once about a pet shop with a nine-tailed glowing fox. He hadn’t paid attention at the moment, but this was somewhat reappearing in his dreams lately. One of his focuses was the link, and he was seeing his face more and more looking directly at him.
            He usually wasn’t speaking with his other selves, he was rather directly exchanging energy with them. At first it had been a bit awkward, practicing with telepathy and conversing with his friends was his main focus of interest. But once he was aware of how he could do that more easily and more efficiently, his attention wandered to other means of communication.
            Eschraiel was currently nudging him, and his animal form was quite intriguing. Especially since there were those kind of animals living now!
            He had arrived at the shop without really paying attention. He was following his guts to lead him exactly where he wanted.
            Being soft, in the kind of mode of processing he was in currently, the people around were like objects around merged with his environment, nothing standing out. Except maybe that woman in front of the big parrot cage… no, not the woman but the color of her gown, a deep indigo, vibrant and shiny. She turned her smiling face in his direction, but it was like Eschraiel’s energy superimposed on hers. He smiled back at her and continued to the rear of the shop.

            The creatures were in a dark room, their fur glowing with rusty and fiery shades. Apparently very engrossed in chasing each others tails… they had quite a lot to keep them busy. The little ones especially were jumping heartily on the older ones. Challenging them to retaliate… but getting apparently no response from them except a few grunts.

            :fleuron:

            No particular feeling at first.

            :fleuron:

            One of the little ones, maybe…

            :fleuron:

            This one. One of the older ones. A male. He was looking at him now, as aware of Sam’s energy as Sam was aware of his.
            He yelped a few times, standing like an Egyptian Sphinx.

            :fleuron:

            In no time, Sam was out with his nine-tailed glowing fox
            He’s so still, thought Sam.
            How would I name you? he thought, directing the energy to the creature.

            He opened his mouth and let his tongue out in such a way, it was like he was grinning and challenging him. Sam laughed and thought to the fox : So I have to play the impression game with you then.
            Maybe… I can call you Sam actually :))
            One bark was enough of an answer.
            So Sam it is!
            Another bark.
            I have to introduce you to my friends now… I don’t know why, but I have the feeling Al will love you

            #1048
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              When a distraught Becky had finished outpouring her verbose account, Tina drew a long much needed breathe —two in fact: one for herself, and another for Becky Pooh.

              “You see Becky dear,” Tina raising softly her voice, with her usual sweetness and poise, “Your dear Dr Gayesh should definitely read the Cosemotology Monthly Report …”
              “What are you talking about?” Becky couldn’t help but butt in.
              “Well, no sooner than yesterday they had this in-depth article on the curative properties of nettles, especially on the effects of silicate which can help rejuvenate cells… This apparently has been used to improve some cloning processes on animals. I would expect someone with advanced talents like your Dr to know that, don’t you think?”
              “Nettles? Are you sure you’re not on some better herbs than I would ever dream of tasting? This sounds like a lot of rubbish to me… And no need to roll your eyes, I can remote view you” Becky was infuriated. How could something so simple have escaped Gayesh?

              “Unless of course he doesn’t want you to leave…” Tina said again so very softly it was almost inaudible.
              “Oh, bugger with telepathy” Becky said, closing the connection to sink deeper into the ostrich feathers stuffed cushions.

              #1043
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Serendib Facility, Sri Lanka ~ (2036)

                Becky had been strangely shaken when she saw appearing in the last word cloud “dead becky” in huge letters.
                Surely she was not scared by death, as dead was only a different term for a different life, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to croak so young!

                Perhaps she died in childbirth; after all, it wouldn’t be so surprising because then the Serendib Facility looked very much like an eerie transitioning place. She tried to remember… When was the last time people had surprised her; done something unexpected, something she couldn’t have calculated. She thought Tina perhaps… Well, on the holographic visiophone, Becky had seen her with utmost details rolling her eyes, thrice even, at the mention of the ménage à trois… But of course,… that hardly counted as a surprise.

                She was starting to freak out. Gayesh! GAYESH! she called out running in the corridors of the facility barely managing to get a bewildered look from the nurses apparently now accustomed to her antics.

                A few moments later, she was comfortably seated in Gayesh’s office, with a warm cup of coffee in her hands. Aaaah, she loved that scent, the warmth that goes right to her heart. She felt comforted. At least if she was dead, the coffee seemed real enough.

                Gayesh had taken an undecipherable look once she had told him of her… premonition. She intuitively felt that there was something he wasn’t telling.

                She almost gurgled her last coffee sip uttering to the doctor “If I’m dead, then spit it now!”

                The laugh from Gayesh came as a surprise to her. “Ahaha,” she couldn’t help but notice, “a surprise !”

                Looking straight into her eyes, he told her “Well, perhaps your premonition has some deep meaning Becky dear, but you look quite alive to me, and with a constitution like yours, likely to live till 157 years old, if you ask me.”

                Becky was greatly relieved, even though she still had the hunch that the mysterious handsome doctor wasn’t telling her all the truth. “I think that idle life is making me insane… I need to see some real dusty rocky stuff; all those projections won’t do for the rest of my life. All the more since I’m supposed to live that long!”

                Gayesh was looking more and more preoccupied.

                “What is it, dear?” Becky asked, starting to feel the pangs of angst coming back at her. (she whispered to herself some of her favourite mantras: stand behind the short wall, breathe, breathe, yes, YES, it’s not your energy…)

                “You see Becky dear,” Gayesh answered after a minute of silence, “there is still some issue with the cloning process; until we find some advanced way of doing it, the clones need some of your cells regularly to be kept in good health, otherwise, I can’t really promise Becky Tooh (that was how the clone#2 was nicknamed) a life as good as yours. That’s why I’m a bit reluctant at letting you go on some errands…”

                Well, if she’d wanted some surprise to see that she was alive, there she got more than enough, Becky thought.

                #1015
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Elizabeth was beginning to realize that there WAS no ‘end of the road’, no grand finale, no finish line. Whenever her characters appeared to be nearing the proposed grand point of the story, she found herself following another thread in the impossibly huge tapestry. Maybe she didn’t want it to end, or perhaps it was that there was no ‘point’, no end point to aim for, that it was all just a process, a continual weaving of marvelously coloured threads. Some threads were gaily coloured silks, some were rough and coarse, some were woolly and comforting, and others were plain and functional. There were threads of the most unusual and unexpected fibres, other worldly threads tying the myriad dimensions and chapters together somehow. It really was the most fabulously intricate and absorbing construction.

                  #910

                  Me? said Armelle. Well I would, of course, however you may have noticed I am twice my usual size and may get stuck if I attempt to go and open the way. I will be more than happy to lend energy to the process as I deflate.

                  #893

                  The day had been long. Actually, from an outside perspective he had been apparently sleeping almost all of it, so it was not appearing as if it could be a really exhausting day at all.
                  But Al had been extending his body researches in the subjective. He’d started to play again with his various dream bodies he had known the existence of for quite a while now, though he hadn’t yet found the time to experiment with them fully enough. An idea he owed to Sam, who he had been pleased to hear about his unusual experiences in the Australian bush, or more accurately, in the Dreamtime.

                  Playing with these various “bodies”, or qualities of attention and perception, he was aware that his thoughts on the recent events occurring in their story was still unfolding in the backstage of his attention. A rehearsal perhaps…
                  Nevertheless, he was delaying the actual representation, for he felt he was not yet ready for it.
                  He could feel lots of information waiting for him to download them and process them. But he wanted to do it with clarity.

                  Last try had not been very convincing… He had dreamt of a midget Tina, in a flowing mauve and lemon chiffon dress. Of course, in the dream he had taken great care of not hurting her feelings, all the more since she seemed so fond of the dress. He couldn’t really tell her that the dress was giving her an enormous butt and that she was rolling her hips comically when she was walking… Impossible…
                  While dream-Al was searching for words to truthfully convey his appreciation of whatever little thing that could be left to appreciate on that dress, dream-Sam had been quick to tell dream-Tina she looked like fairy Nuf. What had he said! She soon started to weep noisily. Fairy Nuf, as anyone knew, is a purple-clad plump grumpy fairy, with a pointy hat and she couldn’t possibly look that bad.
                  Speak about clarity…

                  Al tried again to concentrate. Taking deep breathes.

                  He could feel more and more clearly the presence of the woman. Her aura was beckoning, and she seemed to want to share information with him —pieces of information he would be free to tell others or not, it didn’t matter.
                  What mattered was that there was this deep desire for this information which was coming from him; and equally as deep as his, her own desire to share was palpable.

                  Salome ” he whispered “ I am ready to see
                  He soon started to fall into another lucid dream…

                  #891
                  AvatarJib
                  Participant

                    His teeth had been nudging him for a few days, or maybe a few weeks actually. Last Wednesday, Yurick and him had a chat with their friends Michaela and Elias, and Yann told them about his questioning.
                    Now, he was wondering about what was the meaning of all that in his new understanding of his reality. He was having the impression that he was in a complex video game and that at the beginning he hadn’t been told about all the fun stuffs he could do in it. Many aspects of this video game were unraveling and still he was feeling cold feet about jumping ahead.
                    Yann was noticing that his teeth were nudging himself mainly when he was doing certain things, like judging himself, finding himself unworthy, trying to force himself in certain directions, or to force his body. It was like his body was an amazing communication device from him to himself. It was continuously giving him information, not only about his environment like temperature, smells, lights and images, but also about what would have been hidden like weather patterns, mass excitement or balance, mass tension or release…
                    Elias had told him and Yurick that their energy was constantly open to each other, in a continuous merging and exchanging process. They were quite aware of that now, and at the beginning of their relation it would have been overwhelming, but now it was really fulfilling in many ways. Even when they were not in physical proximity, they would be together and feel each other. But they were also more centered upon themselves and they were not as influenced by the mood of the other as they had been ;)) they had reached a more balanced relationship and were beginning to intensify the movement.
                    Yann had also begun to be aware of a humming tone, inaudible, but very present. It was humming under the veil of this reality and he had been told it was one of his language of communication. This was very intriguing and it was overlapping his interest in his body and his teeth, he was wondering about the effects of this humming tone on them.

                    #870

                    Keeping in mind the cluster of probabilities they were exploring with Salome, and blending it with Malvina’s and Irtak’s energy, Georges was building a subjective pathway to their destination. They were all sending their energy toward that time and place.
                    Innerly connected with Irtak, they were both resonating with the twins who were already there in a way and helping them to create the connection.
                    It was some kind of cyclone creating process, when the sky and the sea are joining together in a big swirl.
                    The vibration was accelerating as Malvina was increasing the rhythm of her melody, matching the inner drone Georges was creating.
                    Salome was blurring as she was going through a passage of her own, maybe she would pay a visit to another place and join them later, but her energy was helping them nonetheless.
                    It was a moment of letting go of their focus, a moment of letting themselves reconfigure.

                    #845

                    She put down the plate of honeycomb and turned round slowly, her calm exterior belying the fear which had suddenly gripped her insides.

                    He had called her Agent V!

                    She had to stay calm, think quickly.

                    And why is that, Jarvis?

                    Jarvis, what did she know about him? He had been employed by Dr Bronkelhampton, although Veranassessee had resisted the idea vigorously. The fewer people on the island the better as far as she was concerned. But the doctor had insisted he needed someone to tend the gardens, and in the end she had decided it wasn’t worth making an issue of.

                    I think I might be able to answer that question. Agent Gabriele entered the kitchen. His sudden presence had almost as disconcerting effect on Veranassessee as the revelation that Jarvis knew her identity.

                    A little sideline of our beloved Doctor is to experiment with honeybee mutations. Isn’t that right, Jarvis? And in the process he has discovered a way to alter the chemical composition of the honeycomb. It looks and tastes like honey, but too much of it is deadly.

                    Veranassessee turned to Jarvis. You knew this Jarvis …. but then why leave it in the fridge … and why warn me?

                    Wasn’t me left it in the fridge. I saw it there earlier. I figured the Doctor left it there. Buggered if I know why. He’s an odd one that one. Getting odder by the minute too.

                    A loud clattering outside and they all turned.

                    Winds getting up quickly, said Agent Gabriele in clipped tones. Secure the hives Jarvis. God knows we don’t need mutated bees on the loose. V tell the guests to stay in their rooms and away from the windows, and then meet me in my room. I’ll deal with the Doctor.

                    :fleuron:

                    Bloody windy here aint it. Thought I was coming to a bloody tropical paradise! Mavis was looking outside anxiously.

                    Oh this aint typical. The weathers been grand. We’ve been out bloody sun baking most days.

                    Oh we have! The sun and airs got special beauty qualities here. That Vessie told us that. Encourages us to get out and about.

                    Ere I know what will cheer you up. Lets get a snack from the kitchen. There’s some special ureu beauty biscuits in the pantry, and the chocolate brownies are bloody delicious. Who’d have thought chocolate had special beauty qualities eh. She’s a genius that Vassie. Oh I tell you what, I found some lovely honeycomb in the fridge this morning! Sharon licked her lips in anticipation.

                    Oh I’m bloody drooling here, Sha! You’re a bloody genius you are

                    #810

                    Quite frankly, Midora didn’t know how and where to look for Badul. She had spent lots of time delving into the labyrinth of chapters that composed the book, at first to no avail.
                    Only after some familiarization with the narrative had she come to roughly understand that the two books where rewriting the pages —or even, rewiring them— so that each time she started over, it was like a similar yet different story. Most of the alternate versions did occur within the same kind of environment, or the same dimensions as the previous ones, but there were always all kinds of small hints that made her get a small hunch that it was not quite the same story she had read before that was taking place now.
                    She had even become quite good at tracking down these flimsy moments where she found herself wondering what felt “different”, at odds, or simply not quite at the same place. Like in her dreams, these were precious cues telling her to pay attention. More than simple cues, of course some of them where howling at her face that something required her attention. The additions made by her distant relative Dory, or later on by her step-daughter Becky were compelling cases of such occurrences. Asynchronous apparitions of mummies sometimes reminded her of stories told by one of her father and where more generally speaking of symbolic death and regeneration, but when all of these cues where as many portals the details of which she could lose herself in…

                    Naasir had told her to find Badul. She knew Badul… Like Midora herself, Badul was a facet of the dreaming dragon who was exploring the many facets of itself in an intricate play, and it felt to her that Badul was stuck somewhere in the process and required some attention. In fact, she remembered that in all the versions of the stories that she had read about, Badul’s history was never ended. Each time, he was on his way to explore the new land he had discovered, and somehow, he just never get there.
                    When she was trying to get to the rest of the story, as much as she would search for it, there were only blank pages.
                    Perhaps it was for her to write them, like Indy did after she encountered that mummy decades ago, not necessarily to exorcise the experience, but rather to learn more about her connections.

                    What were her own connections? She wondered.
                    What did happen to Badul on his way to the clandestine traveling portal of Gralm Tur? And why did it matter? Did he found something about the network, and some link to the skulls which have been an obsession for quite some time for some of the major and most intriguing characters of this inter-dimensional sopoohpera?

                    Truth was, Badul felt a bit like an oddball to her. She didn’t know how to get close to him. Apparently, when she had read the early articles from her great-uncle Cuthbert, she had found out that he had connected quite well to the daunting character. As a matter of fact, most of his comments had helped flesh out the character, while most of the other participants in the books had been only remotely observing his deeds. However priceless these clues were, Midora knew by now that they were not absolute, and would rewrite differently if the story was asking for it. And in fact, perhaps her own addition would change whatever his fate would have been.

                    :fleuron2:

                    Midora could feel Badul differently now… a young boy, whom she is babysitting, in another life.
                    Bastian is baby Badul’s name and he’s a toddler, a toddler exploring an unknown world made of colourful toys.
                    Midora (her name’s Ada in that focus) likes to work for little Bastian’s family. The woman, his mother, looks a bit odd like Morticia Addams, or like a Cher just out of her bed, but Ada likes her. She’s busy traveling alot, and doesn’t have much time to care for the baby.

                    Midora thinks she has read about his woman somewhere in the books…
                    Could it be that? Yes,… there is little doubt about it.
                    It seems like she’s just run into young Carla

                    #807
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Elioctyl looked down on her body being wrapped in mummification bandages and sniggered. Dear funny silly alive ones, with their darling little rituals. How sweet they were to think their physical processes would make a ha’porth of difference after their last sweet breath of terrestrial air.

                      Look at Hoofut, taking it all so seriously! He thinks that if he takes every possible care with those strips of cloth and smelly unguents, that he…yes he alone!…has the power to direct my next adventures. Silly man! But he means well, bless his leather sandals. And Tarfel too, see how he cries when he’s sure Hoofut isn’t watching. I see the tears roll down his leathery cheeks, I see him brush them away with the back of his hand, and sniff and snort, and then spit on the floor. He pretends it’s the malodourous vapours of the embalming mixtures that’s making his nose run, but I can see.

                      Shalabat cries too when no-one is watching. He rests on a cushion beside the pool, waiting for the completion of the process on my lifeless body, waiting for the ceremonial rites to take place, waiting, wondering, worrying about the future….he has every faith in Hoofut’s skills, and Tarfel’s too. But he wonders what will happen to his people now without Elioctyl.

                      Ah, and I wonder too, but I don’t worry. I make a pact now, in love for these dear ones, to leave a piece of me in energy in the mummy they create out of my bones and skin. The mummy is for the terrestrial ones, a poignant reminder, a mystery, a relic, a treasure, a clue! and for them, I give it life, energy, meaning….I will return from time to time, in ethereal body form, to those who ponder this mummy, for generations to come….

                      #1910
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        tjmarshall (3/6/2008 12:43): Here : Wrick!!!
                        :notepad: Wyrick’s documented interests, besides mound exploration and surveying, included geo-magnetism, anomalous boulders, river terraces, beaver dams and sorghum processing. Wyrick is an archaeologist and had access to the site, he could easily place the stone in an area of his choosing and simply “discover” it the next day.
                        (Newark Decalogue Stone)
                        :yahoo_tongue:

                        #773

                        On his way to work, Yann was singing. These last few days had been harsh to his self appreciation process, he had lots of judgments against everything he was doing. He had found it quite exhausting and quite detrimental to his relationships with his friends.

                        Well, despite the fact that Archibald puppet had told him about his bucket… or his garbage he couldn’t remember, and not to forget to empty it regularly, he had been submerged with stimuli from everywhere and from everybody, to the point that he wouldn’t allow a single smile inside himself.

                        Yesterday, they had received their furniture with Yurick, and in the process of assembling them and putting them into place, rearranging the configuration of the apartment, he found himself appreciating of his new home.
                        When he woke up that night, it was 5:12am. He couldn’t sleep, and he wouldn’t wake Yurick up. He had noticed several times that he had many associations with this hour of the day… like a burden, a new day of work soon approaching all that crap again and so on…

                        All he had to do was just… yes like that, he was appreciating his own being. Himself lying in the bed, the breathing movement of his friend beside him, still and relaxed.

                        When the alarm clock was about to ring himself out of the bed, he was already awoken and he cut it off before it could awake his beloved. It was 7:57am.
                        On his way to the bathroom, Arona the cat was quite demanding of caresses… he took some time and appreciated deeply the contact of her soft fur, long and warm silky hairs.

                        Thus, Yann was singing, and when he arrived at the crossroad just before his workplace, there was that man… and their gaze met surreptitiously. And the man started singing. Yann smiled.

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