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  • #971
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      The rugrats have names you know Tina, she said, more to herself than to the benefit of anyone else.
      And hell if I remember what they are now…

      Oh thank Flove for that! Bless him, he may be a sandwich short of a picnic lately but at least he keeps track of the names, exclaimed Becky gratefully, as she checked the latest additions to the Reality Play. Al had conveniently added a link to the triplets names.

      Illana, Lean, and Oliver…Illana, Lean and Oliver….Becky repeated their names like a mantra, trying to etch them into her memory.

      Question is though, which is which? They all look the bloody same!

      :yahoo_idk:

      #961

      Much to Arona’s surprise…

      Although I don’t know why I am continually surprised, she thought, surely I am getting used to this weirdo story by now.

      Well anyway, Arona found herself standing outside of Malvina’s cave. She was still so caught up in the last warm remnants of her delightful reverie in the field of flowers it took her a few moments to realise that the entrance to the cave had disappeared and was now a solid wall of stone.

      Hmmmm, yes, said Leormn, appearing in the nick of time to answer her unspoken question, Yes, Malvina has been shifting things around again.

      I can’t get in though! complained the ever astute Arona.

      No, agreed Leormn reflectively, you can’t. Well there is another entrance, but this has only been disclosed to an elite few. He smiled smugly.

      #918

      When Phurt awoke, it was all dark and the soil was sodden and drenched and she was all wet to the tips of her fine black and white hair. Her pairs of eyes blinked as a bright lightening illuminated the whole place.
      It looked like a forest, and though everything was silent now safe the sound of the cyclone, she could tell there was water not very far, and that place had all aspects of a body of land surrounded by waters.
      Jumping on her fine legs, she took a look around, looking for any clue… where she could start to build her new nest. The little ones would be soon requiring her attention, and she would have to secure a perimeter for them and herself. Who knew what unknown danger was looming in this unknown place?
      As if answering her silent question, a thunder rolled into the sky opening it in two in a flash of a thunderbolt, revealing somewhere in the less dense parts of the forest, a protruding tip of what seemed a huge white dome-like structure.
      That would be perfect indeed…

      Coming from it, a shriek suddenly filled her ears, parts of which where so clearly in the ultrasounds part of the spectrum that she could hear it perfectly…

      :fleuron:

      HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-ah!
      Glo was beaming.
      Aye, I think we got them all the nasty buggers!
      Good riddance! Good thing we took off our clothes, with all that nasty pomegranate juice everywhere
      Odd that those magpies gushed all bloody purple blood everywhere
      Odd indeed, now ye mention it, Sha
      What’s that “indeed” business all about now? Speaking like a bloddy ascended being are ye? Sharon said while readjusting her bra.
      Ascended beings my tits, never ‘ere when ye need them… Now, look at all this purple juice stains now, ruined all our beauty treatments…
      So what we gonna do of this UV lamp now? Sharon asked
      Odd lamp… Looks more a skull than a lamp to me, Sha
      Yeah, they got bizarrest tastes ‘ere, with that clever doctor…
      Sure, that one obviously doesn’t know how to put lipstick properly, now you say it…
      UV skull-shaped lamps now… Next thing we know, we got magpies’ Bloody Margies
      Bloody Margies! Ya’re so smart Sha, ahahaha!
      I reckon we better keep it safe… Poor Vessie seems to have much on her plate with that sexy Italian… don’t want to make another bloddy blunder
      Ya’re the brain, I reckon Sha. Let’s find Mavis and have some snacks… That honeystuff in the fridge was sooo addictive

      #905

      — If you have an idea, then tell it quick, said Akita, this place gives me the creeps.
      — Remember how Kay’s having this nice werewolf form in his shape-shifting bag of tricks?
      — Yes, but he cannot really hold it for very long… Wouldn’t be easier if you just teleport us or something?
      — Well, the thing is, yes, that would work for us, but that would take too long to teach you, not to say the parents. We can’t really count on their cooperation for now… and it’s perhaps better that way, because I’m not sure they would really believe they can do it anyway.
      — So the real question is, Kay interrupted, how do we move quickly with two stoned weights?
      — Exactly. My suggestion is that we combine our energies. I must say I’m quite fond of the werewolf outfit, it’s brawny and forces respect, and besides, you and Akita know how to operate it.
      — I think I get your point. So how do we do?
      — Just let Kay merge with you, and I’ll facilitate the anchoring, said Araili.

      Kay started to swirl around Akita in a swoosh of air, while Araili faded into the background to become a force-field around them, getting tighter and tighter, until all three were a ball of light and poofed back in the form of a twelve-feet tall impressive werelynx.

      GRRRREAT, growled Akayli the beast. Let’s move on.

      Baring his claws, he delicately tore off the mummifying silky threads to unwrap the two parents, and taking each of them under the hairy soft grey arms, sprung out of the nest to the forest in quick bounces.

      #898

      She was feeling blank. It was as if she had no memories of what had happened before. At least she had still the notion that she was a she… wasn’t she? It wasn’t really clear, as she had mixed up feelings. There weren’t any physical sensation in the place she was. Indeed, she was having difficulties finding herself. She began to wonder what was this feeling of her she was aware of. To what was it connected? And thus, she realized she was too focused on the question itself to get any answer.
      The letting go released a dam of sensations and informations. She was overwhelmed by all that she was and all that seemed to be thrust upon her senses. But the resistance was what could create pain, she knew that from another time where she was living the same thing. Resisting the communication was like wanting to resist a herd of fleeing raghlors.
      She was feeling a presence in all this mess, something familiar :-?
      Was that herself looking at herself looking at herself looking at herself looking…
      Her memory of what she was trying to do came as lightning. The sudden realization of her numerous tentatives at this exercise made her cry… would she fail again?
      She had to find these other aspects of her, put them into a common direction… but there were so many of hers! which ones should she call to follow her? Which ones would follow her, if any? She felt sudden despair coming from everywhen. Despairs that she was aware did not belong to her, but they were powerful, almost annihilating her will. Images of massacres of people she knew, of people that her other selves knew, massacre that she had perpetrated herself or that she was perpetrating… any sensation of time could fit.

      :yahoo_at_wits_end: :yahoo_doh: :yahoo_crying: :yahoo_cow: :yahoo_whew: :yahoo_skull:

      Despair was imprisoning her and she knew she already had failed because of that. It was shadowing her motivation, giving her that hollow sense of herself, shielding her from…

      :creating_magic:

      Asiir, is that you? The energy was familiar and the name was a translation in her mind. It was an anchor point in all these mess of hers.
      Asiir, help me!

      The feeling was faint, so far away. But as she was focusing more on it, she noticed her different selves were intrigued and gathering around it. And there they were together. A feeling of ecstasy filled her up… and out of her body herself was huge. The presence was gaining in intensity and it was as if it was her who was allowing Asiir’s energy to be expressed toward herself.

      HAHAHAHAHA a thunderous laugh.
      Startled for a moment she almost lost contact with Asiir. But their bond was stronger this time. She was filled with joy and self-assurance.

      At last, you are beginning to understand, Lola. We can go on and take the next step now.

      She was truly riding her dragon, :face-grin: , it was wondrous.

      Well, technically you are lying on the floor of the marshes of doooom, but…

      All of a sudden, everything was gone, she was back to her body, Asiir looking at her and nudging her left arm with her snout.
      WOW, what a crippled body! How many times did she tried? Would he kill her with that, bloody bastard… a feeling of anger was infuriating her, and filling her body up, heating it up. How could he possibly be so inhuman?

      May I recall you I’m a dead guy? and furthermore, my focus wasn’t human… I just appear human to your eyes because you want me to appear like that. You have no representation of how my species could look like, but I may show you…
      … soon.

      #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.

        #878

        Old Narani is becoming too soft.
        While the attraction of the hole was intensely beckoning, Phurt had been appointed by a strange twist of fate to the guard of the prisoners by the Old Mother.

        Bugger Narani whisspered Phurt, why not just kill them, these stupid two-legged animals. Why the pain of keeping them alive? Good thing the daily dose of sedative venom had them quiet now. They would only scare the mooing preys. Stupid, stupid.
        Of course, it would be easy to just sink a little more than usual her sharp tooth into their neck so fragile. A regrettable accident…
        Phurt couldn’t help but smile a grin as wide as her hairy eight-eyed face. But she wasn’t known as the Doctor of Breath for nothing. Her mere breath could be as sweet as a jasmine scent or terribly deadly. She had never missed a target, never could have.
        She was no mere Spinner; how could the Mother have put her to such a slighting task. Degrading. For her, the most promising Hunter of her generation to be doing this while they all were securing the hole perimeter.

        She would have to go. Something was nudging her to move, something like a fluid water sound, that whispered that nothing could happen to those prisoners. No one would be fool enough to dare to enter the Nest.
        Ahaha, why would she care? Nobody would know. And the little ones would alert her in any case.

        With a prodigious jump, she sprung to the forest in the direction of the hole. She couldn’t be denied her destiny.

        :fleuron:

        Is it gone now? a voice whispered under a pile of giant ferns
        I think it is growled Araili’s voice Thanks to the Snoot’s power of suggestion, I suppose… The Snoot might find spiders eggs delicacy enough to help us in our rescue operation.
        Shall we go there now? Kay? Ready to go and report back if everything’s clear?
        Ready.

        :fleuron:

        Rafaela was not finding it very difficult to jump on the rocky slopes. It was only difficult for her to remember to stay physically focused so that Anita wouldn’t fall to a certain death. And of course, even more difficult to resist to the attraction of nibbling a few crunchy thistles and brambles that grew here and there.
        But Yuki’s attention was here to remind her, and so far, their progression had been smooth and easy.

        But all of a sudden, the small pink nose of Yuki raised in quicker spasms sniffing the air intently.
        What? What? asked Rafaela who almost forgot her focusing. What?! Did I fart or something?

        Anu who was having the time of her life jumping on the coarse back of the goat giggled at her clueless question.

        — I think the spiders are moving too. We’ll be reaching the hole before them, and the Snoot tells me they won’t be moving close to it. But they won’t let anything or anyone get out of it. Let’s hope dear Armelle will spot a path for our friends.
        — Not to worry, Rafaela said matter-of-factly, Army is good at spoohtting. She’s the best I know at that.
        — OK, let’s move on…

        :fleuron:

        Claude was finally seeing a pinhole of light, at a close distance. He could just continue to crawl out his way to the light, and he would soon be release. And to cheer him up, he reminded himself that no man nor beast he feared, with his phenomenal strength agility and speed he now had. Too bad he didn’t have any time to get a proper super-hero attire he smiled to himself.

        :fleuron:

        On Tikfijikoo, the Magpie’s energy maze-cloak was now lift. The fury of the cyclone was now in its full power, and the Magpies were starting their swift deployment.
        The item was left unguarded in the operation room, as far as they could tell, and in the chaos of the elements, surely a few magpies would be unnoticed.

        They had to move quick now. The portal would be opened soon too. They couldn’t come back without bringing “it” back with them.

        #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

        #836

        Anita was playing with her new friend.
        The Snoot, it had told her was its name. The Snoot was very ancient, very curious tooo.
        The Snoot was asking loads of question, though they weren’t formulated with words, because the Snoot wasn’t speaking. It was too slow for the Snoot.

        Nonetheless she was giggling, distracted from the preoccupations of Akita and the others.

        #2023

        In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          FULL STEAM AHEAD towards THE ISLE OF fry! THE FERRY, full TO BURSTING, felt LIKE THE FUN HAD started. THINGS began GOING TO plan (following A FEW STERN looks OFF Bea ) AND THE postBOX WAS FULL. CareFULLY CHOSEN LIGHT AND dark symbolic QUESTIONS asked BY ALL, IT seems. EMO Yellow IS THIS YEARS BLACK. I googled IT. I kept GOING spaceY AMD smiled, clearLY waiting, although THIS week IS seeing CONNECTIONS multiply ON earth: let’S show THE dance WE knew AND OPEN THE door ……:yahoo_heehee:

          #824

          Midora was perplexed. These books were like an open-ended uncharted territory. That territory was so vast and fractal-like in nature that each attempt at following a single thread seemed daunting. There were always details growing like a reckless plant from the entry points where she started her investigations. Badul seemed lost in this jungled maze.
          Last time she’d tried to connect, she ended up with another focus of his, a child, vaguely related to the crystal skulls hunt.

          All it requires is a proper compass to navigate the thought suddenly appeared in her mind as clear as daylight, carrying with it a trail of concepts and clusters of associated ideas.
          One in particular…
          She’d had that book of designs she’d always loved to read when she was a child. It was full of colorful symbols which were called by the authors “tiles”. The authors associated some properties to them, and she remembered one which was about a compass…
          So she had found a compass… Now, she would have to learn how to use it. The introduction of the book said:

          The tiles presented in this book all have different functions; they can be primarily understood as focal points which enhance specific uses of energy. […] As far as we know, they can be discovered in many situations, either objective events (e.g. something that catches your gaze in the street) or in the subjective (dreams, visions, inspirations etc.). In both cases, the recognition is instantaneous, as each tile carries a distinctive energetic signature which is the essence of its “function”, so to speak.
          As such, it can be used theoretically in both situations (subjective and objective), though, as far as we have explored, subjective interaction with them seem to be the easiest and most quickly rewarding way of accessing them.

          Subjective interaction, yes that was child’s play, she would have said, though she could vaguely understand why people before the Shift completed had more trouble accessing it. Objective wasn’t so difficult, once you get to the idea that it’s all one, and you can easily switch from each of the attentions used to focus on them.

          The only thing that doesn’t seem to change, she thought, is the numbering. Even when the events shuffle through the pages and reorder themselves, or even when the very energy of the event subtly changes, their numbers were the same. She could start with that.

          She cleared her mind, envisioning the compass, then took a deep breath and asked herself a question, Where do I find Badul?
          Slowly, the compass started to shift and turn, while numbers started to roll in front of her mind’s eye, and like a lottery, at each draw a number appeared, slowly revealing a number: 1-2-3-8

          She eagerly leafed through the books to find the reference. Well… that was more perplexing than ever, that seemed like a totally unrelated story.
          But now, she was not so sure about that, as she read the entry and wondered about the fact that it seemed once again different from the first time she’d read it.

          And now, she marveled as a new entry started to write itself under that one. It was the first time she actually saw an entry write itself. Those she had spotted that were not here before, she just assumed they had appeared instantaneously. But not this one… and it started to link Franiel’s and Badul’s explorations…

          #804
          AvatarJib
          Participant

            He was sitting at his desk in his study room. He was alone, reading a report on the emerging clan of the teardrop Island of Tur. Their Elders were apparently beginning to gather some influence upon their kin. The Rule of the Guardians was still prevalent, even though it was now being questioned by these humans. The fear impressed upon their mind for centuries was strong enough to keep them away from the caves leading to the portals, yet from day to day it was diminishing. The Guardians could feel it, but it mattered not, now.

            Sinadron scratched his head with his left hand. He was old by the standard of the Guardians. A few centuries. He was one of the strongest along with 2 of the others. Noraam and Keliom, who were still in their youth, were 2 of the 12 other Gates, the higher honorific among them. Their influence was strong as they were the focal points of the powers of their people in the most powerful rituals.

            Pushing back the report, he took the wooden cookie jar. Once opened, the smell of the Langurdy cinnamon spread all over the space. Intoxicating scent. He was quite fond of this commodity, rare and sophisticate, the cookies were made by humans. Sinadron was thankful to them in the culinary area. The metabolism of the Guardians was quite different from that of the humans, and their preferences in matter of food were also quite different, though they could share some of them, and the Landurdy cinnamon was one.

            He had been so engrossed in his appreciation of the spice that he hadn’t noticed the nudging in his left arm. When he finally realized that someone was trying to contact him he closed the jar and put it back in place, beneath his key. He took his hand capacitor and focused on the kinesthetic movements of the molecules of his arm. It was his preferred method to focus on the caller’s energy. The vibrations were those of Nareena, one of the Gates of the Phréal. She wouldn’t let her energy merge in such intimacy, though she knew his interest.

            Sinadron took a more comfortable position on his rocky chair and directed its energy in such a way that it would adapt to the form of his body consciousness. Slowly reconfiguring so he could relax more fully.

            In a flash all was said. She’d given him an energy ball and he had captured it, using his capacitor to store it up. No more interaction was necessary, and from the surface of the message ball, he knew it was not so important. He would consult it later. Sitting up, he put his still glowing capacitor on his desk and took back his cookie jar while the rocky chair was reconfiguring again to adapt to his new position.

            What a smell… :chomping:

            #780
            EricEric
            Keymaster

              Dear… And I always thought Beattie was a male name… Isn’t that funny? Al mused as he felt wrapped into the gortex (a kind of water-proof vortex specially fit for skimpy undies under torrential rains) of Becky’s thoughts…

              Not that it mattered.

              Albert was starting to question his own gender now… Could be another funny bodily exploration.
              Hope Tina wouldn’t mind.

              #2132

              In reply to: Snooteries

              TracyTracy
              Participant
                #745

                Arona, my dear?

                The silky voice of Malvina resounded in Arona’s ear, while she was meditating on the implications of the story Vincentius had told her.

                — Yes?
                — May I borrow you Buckberry and your sabulmantium for a few moments?
                — Oh sure, no need to ask… Though I don’t think you require my permission for Buckberry, isn’t he free as I am?
                — Oh yes he is, exactly as you said, free as you are

                Arona could have sworn she felt a winking energy rippling through her flesh, making some unfamiliar electrical currents crawl underneath her skin. She would have said she was thoroughly disliking it, though she wasn’t really sure if she was.

                — Oh, Malvina added as if an innocent afterthought, we are moving by the way, perhaps you may find interesting to join us for the homationing ceremony. You may learn some more about your sabulmantium.
                — Well, why not, answered Arona having no idea of what a homationing ceremony could be…
                — Very well, please join us in the main entrance, where I am playing the harp. We will be waiting for you.
                — I’ll be there in a second.

                So, they were moving? Speak about implications… Arona muttered, stroking dozing Mandrake, who had feasted on too many of the moorats crawling inside the moisteous cave tunnels.
                I guess I’ll take this astounding elan as a hint that I’ll be going alone she said. A yawn for all answer.
                Considering it was Mandrake, that was almost a mark of distinctive affection… or was it rather of affectionate distinction?

                Moving? She didn’t want to move, not yet, not like that… And to be honest, with all the stuff in that cave, she sure didn’t want to help pack all of this, be it by magic. What an impossible task.

                Vincentius the nanny was taking care of Yikes, so she was confident should anything happen, he would be alright.

                :fleuron:

                On the outside of the cave, the dragons were all lined up, as if waiting for some unknown signal. Leormn first in shades of teal, and his spawns, Buckberry, with the most florid and baroque hues of purple that one could imagine, and the two facetious Heckle and Jeckle in shades of emerald, looking unusually calm.

                Malvina, with Leo the little marmoset on her left shoulder, was playing her harp, while Irtak was accompanying her playing a mouth harp.
                Some drums had been disposed around, and quite naturally, Arona felt like beating the measure on these, getting slowly and slowly relaxed by the music and guttural sounds produced by the throat singing dragons.
                She almost laughed and broke the meditating pattern when she let the memory of Sanso come into her awareness. What a shame he’d missed that, that would have fitted him better than her.

                Slowly the sounds stopped, and Malvina very gracefully rose from her stool, and greeted Arona with a loving hug. Her flowing robe was a tender orchid hue with laces of thistle pink, and her silvery peach long flowing hair were giving her the aura of a princess.

                — Wait, where are Georges and Salome? She said, are they already gone?
                — No, they are waiting for us at the new location, she said with a smile… Now, Leormn will start the ceremony.

                Arona almost said Wait again, in anticipation of what was to come, and finally decided to let it flow. The serene look of Malvina and her motherly smile was of a nurturing reassurance.

                Outside, in the grassy lands, the dragons had all grown wings and were apparently ready to take off. A pile of conic shaped dirty sand was standing in front of the entrance, that Arona had never seen before.

                She could feel Buckberry answer her unspoken question without even a word being uttered. It is soil from the cave, and we will use it now.

                Arona watched the dragons rise in the sky full of damp gray clouds, and wondered what they were doing.
                They are doing two things, Arona answered Malvina (again that disagreeable habit of reading thoughts, couldn’t help but think Arona, wishing there would be some World around where such thing wouldn’t be so easy), first they are checking what kind of creature are staying with us and following the movement, continued Malvina, ignoring the remark, and second, they are drawing with that sand from the cave a circle to enclose the area we want to move

                Arona didn’t dare say the explanations were making her even fuzzier, so she nodded as if abreast of what was going on.

                Popping sounds of the dragons blinking in and out to get some more dirt almost made her dizzy, and she forgot the strangest feeling she had when she thought she heard “the area we want to move”.

                — Now, continued Mavina, the sabulmantium.

                The dragons were now all back, and the pile of sand had disappeared.
                Arona’s attention snapped back to herself, and she handed the fine object to the lady. She couldn’t help but notice the glowing eyes of Irtak, who apparently was very eager to see what would happen.
                So he will move too, she thought, hope his father won’t be too sad… Why did she felt it was a separation from this place she had found she was liking…

                — If you look closely, said Malvina to no one in particular, but Arona took it for herself, you will see how easy it is to come back if you feel so inclined.

                At her touch, the coloured sands in the sabulmantium’s transparent dragon shell globe started to move. And all could see the cave being formed, with all the little people, dragons, glukenitches and even Leo and Mandrake… They were all here, enclosed into a circle of sand.

                — Now, if you will follow me… said Malvina who traced on the ground a curvy symbol.

                And very slowly, as the whole sand scenery inside the sabulmantium was turning in a round, they all felt as though they were dissolving into the air. Yet, they were all solid, and the interior of the cave was still too.
                The only thing that was moving was the exterior, twirling and changing, getting out of focus, and moving erratically at the beginning, and then getting close to a focal point. Some fine tuning was occurring.

                And in a snap,
                The landscape
                Was
                In all its splendor…

                — Greetings! a smiling couple at the entrance of the cave said to the people inside.

                #2125

                In reply to: Snooteries

                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Dear A. Nine Miles,

                  The question of how to be better,
                  Can not be described in a letter.
                  It’s a magical thing,
                  The result of a fling,
                  Of a wet tarty nun getting wetter.

                  I hope this helps.

                  Khuzebar San

                  #741
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Elvira was tucking into some reindeer stew left over from Becky and Sean’s wedding when she telepathically tuned into Becky’s distress signal. Chewing thoughtfully, Elvira tried to make sense of the visual imagery she was receiving. She seemed to be getting a mixed message; was it a nun, or was it a tart? She reminded herself to trust her impressions, and not discount them even if they seemed incongruous or unlikely, and accepted that Becky was indeed in some kind of tarty nun trouble. The question was, where was Becky.

                    Elvira pushed her empty plate away, and focused on the situation. AHA! Nutley Park, 25th bush on the left.

                    Boris, I’m going out, she said. Becky’s in a spot of tarty nun trouble in Nutley park.

                    Right Ho, dear, shall I come and help?

                    Another image of popped into Elvira’s head of the see-through black mini dress. Er, no Boris, I’ll handle this myself.

                    And with that, Elvira, sprightly old crone that she was (and fortified with mushroom laced reindeer stew) bustled off to hail a gondola cab, carrying a large carpet bag containing a selection of hastily chosen clothing.

                    #2121

                    In reply to: Snooteries

                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      To all our readers:

                      El Sanso will be standing in for our dear Snoot, while he takes a much needed reality break.

                      If you have any questions, dear readers, El Sanso will be happy to respond.

                      :yahoo_chatterbox: :yahoo_thinking:

                      #1898
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        tjmarshall57: hahahaha as if it’s not bad enough with the weeding, now poor girl has blotches all over her face!
                        tjmarshall57: wedding not weeding
                        tjmarshall57: do russian wear velis?
                        tjmarshall57: veils
                        tjmarshall57: hhhm, blessing by a shaman, plaiting together of the couples hair….(is Becky still blad?)
                        tjmarshall57: The biggest concern at the wedding is to have enough liquor. A Russian Wedding is an event where everybody must be drunk. No one will be surprised if people drink themselves to unconscious on the wedding – and many do.
                        tjmarshall57: well, that will appeal to Sean
                        tjmarshall57: You are probably surprised to find out that a Russian wedding lasts for 2 days!! (Well, at least. Some weddings last as long as a week, and this is something to be proud of and remember for years: it means the couple had enough liquor to go on and on, and enough devoted friends to stay.)
                        tjmarshall57: The Russian church ceremony is colorful and solemn but the complete traditional ceremony is very long, and as guests and the couple have to stand during the ceremony (there are no benches in Russian churches at all; people must stand during all church services), faints are not rare.
                        tjmarshall57: right, so a fair amount of fainting and drunkeness then
                        tjmarshall57: Then the witnesses continue running the wedding, reading jokes and poems, and sometimes asking the new couple questions to make fun of them.
                        tjmarshall57: Franci will you be my witness, you’d be perfect
                        tjmarshall57: “Za molodykh!” (“For the newlywed!”)
                        tjmarshall57: Traditionally money is considered as the best gift, and is given in an envelope. Some time after the beginning of the reception when people start to become drunk the witnesses will ask everybody to give their gifts and one of the witnesses will collect envelopes from the rest of the guests with a tray.
                        tjmarshall57: Then people have time to dance. First dance is opened by the new couple. After the music starts, there is no exact script anymore, and witnesses can relax a little. They still occasionally announce a toast but do not entertain the guests with jokes and poems; guests by this time are already having lots of fun and are able to entertain themselves.

                        Movements become quite hectic; some people go out “to refresh”, and at some moment in this movement the bride gets… “stolen”! She disappears, and when the groom starts looking for her, he is faced with a request for a ransom. Usually it’s his buddies who “steal” the bride. A more or less short wrangle about the amount, and he can have his new wife back. But he must watch out – the bride sometimes may be stolen a few times!

                        tjmarshall57: right, so we have drunkeness, fainting, jokes, poems and insults, and theft and abduction
                        tjmarshall57: Then there are the bride’s friends – they steal the bride’s shoe. The groom must pay ransom for the shoe too – the guests enjoy watching wrangles.
                        tjmarshall57: Often guests leave the wedding in such a condition that they cannot remember what happened. If this was the case with the majority of guests, then the wedding was a huge success
                        tjmarshall57: AHA! This is the key! I will write about it after the wedding, when nobody can remeber anything about it
                        tjmarshall57: Day two of the wedding:After the meal the bride must “clean” the floor in the room. The fun part is that guests are allowed to mess as much as they want while she is cleaning
                        tjmarshall57:
                        tjmarshall57: another part for you!
                        tjmarshall57: guests on a Russian wedding enjoy it much more than the newlywed couple who are all the time made fools of.
                        tjmarshall57: The most popular period for wedding ceremonies in Russia was between the Christmas and Shrovetide (a week before the spring fast). This period was called the wedding period.
                        tjmarshall57: well, the timing is right
                        tjmarshall57: One of the many superstitions still prevailing among the peasant population of Russia is that, on the occasion of a marriage, the happiness of the newly-married couple is not assured unless the parents of the contracting parties are soaked with water from head to foot. When a marriage takes place in summer this is easily accomplished by ducking the fathers and mothers in the nearest river, but in winter they are laid on the ground and rolled in the snow.
                        tjmarshall57: who are the parents?
                        tjmarshall57: Among the Koraks of Siberia a young man seeks for a maiden with considerable dowry in the form of rein-deer
                        tjmarshall57: oh, well we can have psychoactive reindeer pies, anyway
                        tjmarshall57: Kovalevsky has well shown that many of the marriage customs of this country are survivals from a primitive and prehistoric age when the woman ruled the household and had more than one husband.
                        tjmarshall57: hhmmmm
                        tjmarshall57: it all points to a distant age when the matriarchal system prevailed, and the brother was his sister’s guardian. In Little Russia the brother’s sword is decked with the red berries of the rowan tree, red being the emblem of maidenhood.
                        tjmarshall57: red fruit sync!
                        tjmarshall57: no wonder I threw the cherries away!
                        tjmarshall57: ahahahahha!
                        franci_free: oh hrllo
                        franci_free: goodness
                        franci_free: will need to read back
                        tjmarshall57: hahahah oh there you are
                        franci_free: well what a complicated theme
                        tjmarshall57: haahah well
                        franci_free: you will have to write about the wedding
                        tjmarshall57: the key to the whole thing is that everyone was so drunk that nobody can remeber any of it aftrwards
                        franci_free: hahahah
                        franci_free: great!
                        tjmarshall57: thats my angle, I think
                        franci_free:
                        tjmarshall57: and s few things fit perfectly
                        tjmarshall57: the red fruit
                        tjmarshall57: the time of year
                        tjmarshall57: the drunkeness, Sean will love that
                        franci_free: the splotches?
                        tjmarshall57: well, nobody will remeber that
                        tjmarshall57: afterwards

                        #2103

                        In reply to: Snooteries

                        The SnootThe Snoot
                        Participant

                          Deer Anony Mouse!
                          Your scent is sincere and I will offer you my response in anticipation of our next meeting.
                          The Snoot is the Snoot and you can ask the Snoot whatever you want because it’s the Snoot asking itself a question…

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