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  • #1160
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      broadcasting seeds of absurdity in the cornfields and the meadows of the hay hoo down dooly…” Baked Bean Barb opened the book at random again and read a few lines. It was an odd book for sure, but strangely compelling. You never knew what you’d find on rubbish tips. Baked Bean Barb liked the sound of that, broadcasting seeds of absurdity.

      #1159

      “You tempestuous fool” Becky cried and slapped Gayesh soundly across the face. “Don’t give me those unspoken looks!”

      Gayesh sighed. “Ah, the infinite pleasure I had in mind is naught but an elusive dream.”

      Elizabeth read the last two lines she’d been working on to her publisher, Godfrey Pig-Littleton.

      Godfrey snorted. “Elizabeth, really! You jest, I hope.”

      “Well, I was just trying to fit each of the four themes into one chapter, they all seemed to fit together so easily” Elizabeth replied. “Why not? Tempestuous, Elusive Dreams, Unspoken Looks, and Pleasure”

      “You seemed to have fit them all into two sentences, never mind a chapter. And your characters sound like characters in a play.”

      “Well they are characters in a play, Godfrey” replied Elizabeth.

      “Ham actors, that’s what I meant. Anyway, Liz” Pig-Littleton said with a slightly mischievous grin, “What if Gayesh doesn’t want his face slapped by Becky?”

      “What do you mean?”

      “What if Becky doesn’t want to slap Gayesh?”

      “Well, she will if I write it into the play, surely!” Elizabeth started to frown. She knew that once she invented her characters that they continued to exist in a reality of their own, being free to create their own realities in whatever probable dimension they found themselves in, but she had never really stopped to think about the ramifications of her continuing to write incidents into their lives.

      “Maybe Becky has moved on from where you left her last time you wrote about her, in a completely different direction” Godfrey continued “And maybe she doesn’t want to play along with your theme word game. I mean really, is it fair to make her? Maybe she was having more fun doing whatever it was she was doing while you weren’t even thinking about what she should do. Quite rude really to interrupt her just so that you could do your word theme games. Bit of a cheek, I’d say.”

      “Oh Godfrey, that’s easily explained” Elizabeth had remembered Probabilities, which was always a handy excuse in continuity disputes. “Another probable character will do what I write for them to do, there are probably hundreds of probable characters now, all going in different directions.”

      “Is that wise? Really Elizabeth, that sounds outrageously irresponsible. Hundreds of probable characters running amok, and you have absolutely no idea what they’re all getting up to.”

      “Well they’re not my responsibility Godfrey, for heavens sake!”

      “Well if they’re not your responsibility, then who’s responsible for them?”

      “Nobody is responsible for them!”

      “Well that sounds like a recipe for chaos if you ask me” Godfrey said with a sniff. “You’ve unleashed hundreds of probable Becky’s into reality, not to mention Leo’s and Bea’s….”

      “And Pig-Littleton’s” Elizabeth interjected under her breath.

      “… and Sanso’s and Dory’s” Godfrey, who hadn’t heard Elizabeth, continued to reel off the characters names. “I mean how big do you think reality is? The rate you’re filling it up with probable characters there’ll be no space left!”

      Elizabeth started to laugh. “Oh Godfrey, you’re a case. Ahahah! They don’t take up any space at all! Anyway, Godfrey” Elizabeth turned back to her notepad. “Listen to the latest chapter and tell me what you think:

      “You tempestuous fool” Becky cried and slapped Gayesh soundly across the face. “Don’t give me those unspoken looks!”

      Gayesh sighed. “Ah, the infinite pleasure I had in mind is naught but an elusive dream.”

      Godfrey Pig-Littleton was impressed. “Elizabeth, how perfectly you incorporated the four themes into one brilliantly short chapter”

      Elizabeth closed her notebook with a satisfied smile and yawned. Let them all do whatever the bloody hell they all want to, I’m off to bed. Plenty of probable characters available in the morning, waiting in the wings.

      #2030

      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Some selected bits from one tag cumulo-cloud:

        — “Matter (is) dimensional energies realized”
        — “Expect Hector (to) surface, Rafaela!”
        — “Leonora gets (to) keep saying ‘play attention!’”
        — “Close rain, friend magic, hope water seeing”
        — “Far within thinking, Arona sort days, (her) hold gives human comments great meaning”
        — “Soon blue seconds, call straight (at the) door, met surely physical; notice move (of) essence (in) fat huge dreams”
        — “Universe appear (in) book story”
        — “Malvina line although familiar answered busy funny heading”
        — “Tina looked love taking lots question indeed”
        — “Word usually working (in) short shifting pooh adventure”
        — “Seems Armelle starting soft reason; strange perhaps (in the) middle (of) rolling help (one may) spot dragons’ truth past spider times”
        — “‘Tell inside reality’: three words step (to) creating”
        — “Becky, allow yourself finding single beautiful playing light, dear”
        — “Cloud impulse shall house explain surprised black connection”
        — “Cool trust(ed) friends, portal plane”
        — “Aliens coincidence next talking”
        — “Walking arms seem flight silence; stone creature sound already entered field (of) aware(ness); scene trip apparently given reading”
        — “Beyond rolled Theresa, lately cave telling unusual morning”
        — “Wortex large, merely Glo”

        #1156

        “Hey, Leo, look at this here in the newspaper ~ my book’s being made into a movie!”

        “What book’s that then, Bea? Not that dreadful ‘T’eggy Gets a Good Rogering’, surely.” Leonora replied dismissively.

        “Oh they’re not calling it that for the movie…..”

        “Bloody good job if you ask me” Leo interrupted, and then exclaimed “OH!”

        “What?”

        “Book sync!”

        “Book sync? What book sync?”

        “I forgot to tell you, Baked Bean Barb called…”

        “Who?!”

        “You remember, we met her in that bar down on the coast awhile back, remember? We got talking over a few tapas ~ found we had some mutual friends back home and all…”

        “Funny how that happens, eh ~ small world, innit? So what did she call for then?”

        “Well, it’s the funniest thing, she said when she was rummaging around on the rubbish tip….”

        “Oh now I remember, you mean Baked Bean Barb! The one that’s lived in her Ford Fiesta for 15 years, and finds food in dustbins? That one? On the run, wasn’t she?”

        “That’s the one! On the run for 30 years because of that Baked Bean Incident that was in all the papers”

        “You meet all sorts down here, eh. So what did she call for?”

        “Well” continued Leonora “It’s the strangest thing! She said she found a book on the rubbish tip, which was in English, so she says she took the book ~ she reads alot you know, Barb does, even though she’s only got one eye. Dunno how she manages it really, her glasses are always so dirty…”

        “Will you get to the point?”

        “Hang on, hang on, I’m getting there….she found this book, right, so she goes back to wherever she’s camped up, you know, with the other travellers, all them old hippies on their way to Morocco for the winter I expect….”

        “We should go with them next winter Leo, might be fun”

        “I reckon it would Bea ~ well with Jose coming back soon from that island, we’ll have to go somewhere ~ anyway, as I was saying, Barb starts reading this book, she says it’s the most peculiar book she’s ever read, never read anything like it, she says, but she can’t put it down she says ~ well, you’ll never guess what!”

        “I can’t guess, Leo, I’m waiting for you to tell me.”

        “Barb says we’re in the book!”

        “What do you mean, we’re in the book?”

        “We’re in the book! ‘Leonora and Beattie’ are in the book! Renting a finca from a ‘Jose’ and living in the mountains in Andalucia!”

        “You’re having me on!” exclaimed Bea. “I’ve gotta see this to believe it.”

        #1155

        Marvin Scrozzezi was thinking he should really start to find a more suitable title for the movie…

        Teri, one of the actresses he had in mind for the much desired role of Finnley, —in fact the actress, that he had almost wrote the part having her in mind— had refused to audition because of the script’s working title with that undignified ‘R—’ word (a hint to the reader, it’s not what you think)…

        He was thinking… French people had romantic and colourful ways of expressing the same thing… sweeping the chimney, leaking the leek… Argh… forget it…
        He wasn’t sure that “T’Eggy Finds a Big Butternut Squash” would be better either.

        He really sucked at finding titles.

        #1153

        “Don’t you think time is ripe, Ratirat?” Angela asked, turning to her friend Seth, the brown furred mouse.
        “None of us are ever equipped, for general purposes, to perceive reality in all of its forms.” Seth started in a squeaky voice.

        “That’s interesting” nodded Angela, though she would have been in trouble had anyone asked her to explain what she just heard.

        Seth continued in his unnerving high-pitched voice “The pyramid gestalts can do this, and we help the pyramid gestalts perform this feat.”

        “I second that” said Freako the black and white ferret.
        “Bloody good point!” Weirdy, the damsel weasel managed to say among the growing cacophony.

        “Don’t be zilly… I don’t zink people outzide of this zoo are ready for us” snapped Joppy the baby pygmy hippo.

        “Zwines!” grumbled Angela, innocently mocking Jobby’s strange accent.

        #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.

        #1151
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Tina leaned back on her rocking chair, and ogled with an eye of pity Al who was trimming one of the plants.

          What?
          Oh nothing, Tina sighed… are we gonna eat any fruit from those, or shall I throw them in the bin?
          Oh, there’s good hope we can soon have a cherry tomato wrapped in a leaf of coriander for our dinner sweetie.
          You and your miniature cultures… She finally rolled her eyes. During Al’s trip in the Floridisles, by a strange series of nearly miraculous coincidences, the plants had stayed intact. She hadn’t watered them for the two weeks, but apparently it had not displeased them.

          Al had told her the funny story of his grand-father watering his wife’s precious flowers during her absence with gallons of water, and literally drowning them in love.
          She had not smiled. “Maybe I’m drowning people in my love too, they tend to get soggy these days…”
          So perhaps her lack of attention had been a blessing for the tinsy artsy plantsaïs

          What did they have for dinner last time? A puny ratatouille made with courgettes the size of her fingers. First time she’d wished she had bigger fingers. Nah… Al, you got to understand, people aren’t ready for nano-biotics…

          #1146

          “Oh My God” exclaimed Bea. “I had a dream about the DOOR!”

          “Oh, well done! The question is, did you remember it?” asked Leonora.

          “As a matter of fact, Leo, I did!” replied Bea with a happy smile. “As a matter of fact, although I’m not too sure how factual matter really is, but anyway, I did remember the dream, and I wrote it all down.”

          “Gosh, up early this morning, weren’t you?” asked Leo, who was sipping coffee at the kitchen table and watching the sun come up over the mountains through the open door.

          “Oh I didn’t write it down this morning, silly! I wrote it all down last week.”

          Leo placed her cup on the table and rubbed her eyes, frowning. “Wait a minute, let me get this straight…..”

          Bea laughed ~ she was in rather a jolly mood, despite the early hour. “I had the dream last week, Leo, but I only just realized this morning that the dream was about THE DOOR

          “So what did you learn about the door, then?”

          Bea frowned. “Well I’m not really sure. But it seemed so significant because it was that scary door, you know, the dreams I’ve been having for years about that door in that bedroom that’s too scary to get near, never mind go through….would you like to read it? Maybe you can interpret it for me.”

          “If I must” sighed Leonora “You better pour me another cup of coffee then and pass me those cigarettes.”

          Leonora read from Bea’s Dream Journal:

          I was sorting winter clothes out on an upstairs landing of a cottagey gabled house,
          and decided to use the upstairs bedroom instead of the downstairs one.
          The bedroom was a recurring dream one, gabled attic with dormer windows kind of room.
          Then I saw the door and remembered this was the door I was always too terrified
          in dreams to open; it was so scary that I always wanted to use this bedroom
          but never could because of that terrifying door and whatever lay beyond it.

          “Didn’t you do a waking dream and go through that door?” Leonora asked. “Oh, yes here is is…”

          Remembering that I had done a waking dream and gone beyond the door once,
          I marched up to the door, flung it open and strode through.
          Suddenly an almost overpowering fear and dread stopped me in my tracks
          but I carried on anyway.

          “Oh, bloody well done, Bea! Good for you, girl!” Leonora could be a bit waspish at times, but she was a kind old soul underneath.

           It was a bit like a old slightly shabby but once grand hotel foyer, high ceilings
          (not the same as when I went through in the waking dream, which was then rows
          of closed doors on either side).  The foyer opened out on the left into a large old
          fashioned restaurant dining room, with one person over on the far side sitting at
          a table.  I carried on straight ahead through opaque etched glass double doors
          onto an upstairs outdoor terrace.  There was a city scene below.  On the left
          was a shallow ornately shaped ornamental pool.

          “Reminds me a bit of our trip to Barcelona, this does, eh” Leo commented.

          “Yeah, I’m sure that had something to do with the gargoyle imagery” replied Bea.

          A woman squeezed past me holding a small thick book and I knew she was
          going to jump off the terrace which was several storeys up.  She collapsed into
          the pool, writhing backwards, baring a flat white breast and dropping the book.

          “Flat breast, hahah Bea, that weren’t you then, obviously, was it!”

          Bea chuckled. “Not bloody likely! I reckon that bit slipped in the dream because I can’t find a comfortable bra lately”

          “You and me both” replied Leo. She continued reading from the journal.

          I picked up the book, and somehow ended up with two books, which seemed like guide books. I couldn’t hold onto the two books with the creature in my hand, which was weird, like a very heavy small furry grey reptile, or gargoyle.

          “Maybe it was a baby dragon?”

          “Don’t say that!” retorted Bea, who had a horror of dragons. “The thought did cross my mind too, though” she admitted.

          I was holding it with one hand round its middle and the fat grey belly of it
          was bulging out under my fingers.  It was unbelievably heavy for such a small creature
          and I didn't want to hold it, so I passed it to a boy. (Twice I was holding the creature,
          and twice I passed it to the boy, but I can't recall the other time)
          Back inside the building, I followed the boy down a big wide staircase that
          curved round to the right at a landing below.  I started to fall down the stairs and
          knew it was because of the book that I was holding that the woman had been holding
          when she collapsed into the pool, so I threw the book down the stairs to save myself,
          and felt the tumbling down from the books perspective, although I stayed in
          the same place, clutching the banister.

          “Well I am amazed that you remembered so much, Bea! Going through the doors and finding the books reminds me of Jane’s Library you know”. Leo was starting to go into an altered state.

          “Are you going into an altered state, Leo?” asked Bea. “Are you channeling Juani Ramirez again?”

          “The creature, the gargoyle, was representing ‘a different species of awareness, of consciousness’” continued Leonora, as Bea hastily started taking notes. Leo wouldn’t remember what she’d said while she was channeling Juani, so it was essential that Bea record what was said.

          “The weight was a marker to help you recall the creature, as well as being symbolic of denseness”

          Bea couldn’t help making a snirking noise. Dense eh, she said under her breath.

          “The door” continued Leonora “Is a signpost, a marker.”

          Just then the phone rang, snapping Leonora out of the trance. Bea picked up the telephone, but there was nobody there.

          “Pffft” said Bea.

          “More coffee?”

          #1145

          “Listen to this, Bea” Leonora said.

          Bea looked up from her book “What’s that then Leo? I’m just getting to the juicy part where T’eggy gets….”

          “Listen to this” Leo interrupted, and read from the book she was reading, “As a writer I feel free to do anything I please, investigating anything, saying anything…..as a writer I feel free to be psychic as a bird, do what I please and use my abilities psychically quite freely. When I think of me as a psychic I get hung up because I seem to be in the company of so many nuts. Writers may be as nuts as anyone else but it’s a nuttiness that doesn’t bug me ~ there’s no dogma attached…..”

          “What on earth are you reading, Leo?”

          “The memoirs of Jane Roberts” replied Leonora. “What a coincidence this is! I was just starting to think about writing some fiction, you know? Because when you write fiction nobody really questions what you write, it’s easier, somehow.”

          “Well if it’s fiction you’re after, I can recommend T’Eggy Gets A Good Rogering, it’s brilliant.” replied Bea helpfully.

          “Bloody hell, Bea!” said Leonora in exasperation. “I want to write tasteful enlightening fiction, wonderful stories with a moral and a point and a lesson ~ I don’t want to read the trash you read!”

          “Suit yourself, you judgmental cow” replied Bea huffily. “And anyway, you haven’t even read it, so how would you know?”

          #1140
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            “Well, what ARE you going to do about the door”, Tina asked Becky.

            “Hell if I know, Tina! Have you got any ideas?”

            Tina shook her head. “Maybe Al or Sam will come up with something. Just leave the thread hanging for months, why don’t you, that’s what you usually do.”

            Becky laughed. “Al keeps reminding me about it for some reason, you know what he’s like.”

            “Well, here’s an idea: Let the characters decide for themselves what happens next. Don’t plan it, just watch it, and report back, you know what I mean?” Tina suggested.

            “Hey there’s an idea! Good thinking, Batwoman!” Becky said, hugging Tina. Then she grinned. “Isn’t that what’s been happening all along?”

            #1139

            “Blimey, Leo, that reminds me about The Door” remarked Bea, who had got to the part about the door in the potting shed in T’Eggy Gets A Good Rogering.

            “I don’t know how you can read that trash, Bea, really I don’t” said Leonora, with a sniff.

            “Never mind that, what about The Door? WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO ABOUT THE DOOR?”

            #1137

            “And now there’s that cycle of energy that goes into the other realms and comes full circle, cascading down like watermelons crashing down from a fountain back into this reality, and then it cycles back up into the other dimensions, and then back down, creating an endless loop – an endless loop of watermelons , consciousness and expansion, New Energy, creativity, letting go of the obstacles and the watermelons , truly being in life.”

            Becky was reading aloud from House of The Watermelon, by Toby St.Germaine .

            “The next step, as we enter this House of The Watermelon, the next step is to take a drink of watermelon juice. There’s plenty of watermelons. You don’t even need a glass up here. Just drink of the watermelons….”

            “Becky, why is that book called The House of The Watermelon?” Dory asked. “I haven’t heard a single mention of watermelons all the way through it.”

            #1135

            — “Dory?”
            — “What, hon’?” a distracted Dory answered to young Becky
            — “You’d better remove the magnets from the iron, or you’ll ruin another one…”
            — “What are you talking about?!” Dory was perplexed, trying to find her way through the airport to Gate 57-¾, but only to find nothing but benches in between Gate 57 and 58.
            — “Oh, never mind… It’s only a dream and you probably won’t remember it anyway.”

            “There!” the suspicious bag lady of the Heathrow terminal had reappeared briefly just for Dory to spot her entering the restrooms.
            Becky was already rolling the heavy bumper-stickers patched suitcase to follow her without question.

            — “But why are you taking the suitcase to go to the bathroom, Beck’?”
            — “What are you talking about Dory!” Becky was sometimes losing patience. “Can’t you see it’s the entrance for Gate 57-¾?!”
            — “Uh?” A moment of clueless mystery on Dory’s face. “Oh…” Another mini-black hole on her face.

            “Oh. Okay then. Let’s go…”

            If there was something that her exotic life had taught Dory, it was to never question the moment. If the circumstances are here, if the impulse is there, then go for it. Explanations will follow. And in case they don’t, make them up as you roll and rock!

            Becky meanwhile was rather surprised at how people, even her own step-mother, as tuned in ghostly stuff as she was, most of the time failed to see the things for what they really are. And if these big painted letters on the door “GATE 57 ¾” weren’t obvious enough, and people preferred to interpret them as restrooms, then… what else could be done? She sighed.
            Later on, she would learn that it was a common, well documented trait in human consciousness; that people were sometimes psychologically (but not physically) blind to stuff outside of their current focus of attention, or simply blind to things too far off their beliefs; in other terms, it was a matter of energy reconfiguration. As long as it worked…

            “Oh look at that… Yukailli Airlines counter is here! What bloody stupid idea to put a closet door at the entrance…”

            After having made the departure arrangements at the counter, Dory came back to Becky who was looking outside at the planes.

            — “Ain’t them beautiful?”
            — “Yeah, and I suppose you’re seeing planes, aren’t you?”
            — “Err, yes of course, what else, silly… Though now you ask me, they seem a bit weird… foggy or something”.

            In fact, what Becky was seeing wasn’t conventional planes. It was more like “fly-boats”. Some sorts of hybrid ships made to fly with huge wings transparent and shiny like those of flies.

            — “I hope they have crunchy coleslaw for meal, I’m starving” a contented and tired Dory said, when she collapsed into the comfortable seats.

            #1128

            When Balbina woke up from that which had been her longest and strangest projection out of her body ever, all the memories of this fantastic adventure were oddly still fresh and crystal clear in her mind.

            She doubted that it may have been as real as she has perceived it to be; but the funny rabbit, before they all entered the long dark tunnel, had winked at her and told her there would be signs for her.

            Outside the window, the sunlight was starting to show on the Cordillera de la Costa, the nearby mountains.
            She was feeling strangely rejuvenated by this unexpected night spent in far-away travels, and it was almost as if her whole body was feeling better than it ever was.
            But of course, it was more of the same. Fabella, the nurse would soon enter and great her with a…

            “Did Madam sleep well?”
            “Quite, yes”… Her voice was quivering. Hardly the youthful voice she had during her projections out of the body.

            So, there she was again, in that old people house, and no way out of this mis…

            “What?!” she made the nurse busy cleaning her instruments repeat —to which she was far too pleased to comply.
            “Yes, Madam, your son phoned this morning and told he would come for you…”

            Her son? That was most unexpected.

            What did the rabbit said already? Help would come from the most unexpected corners… Well, she had almost forgotten that this corner still existed!

            “Did he say something else?”
            “Oh, I’m not really allowed to tell, M’am…”
            “But of course, you can’t really resist (little goose)” simpered the old wincing lady in a whisper to herself.
            Fabella was indeed continuing, unstoppable “… but he seems to consider it’s too expensive to have you here, and would love to have you home with him”

            Well, of course, you can’t really expect him to be so generous for no reason Balbina was thinking… But anything would probably be better than this old fools’ home. Even her son’s home.

            Besides, it was located outside Caracas, near the mountains… And if the funny rabbit’s directions were correct, it was very, very close from where her hosts (provided they existed of course) were to re-emerge.

            She’d never imagined that falling into the abyss of sweet madness would be so exciting.

            #1127

            It may have been the sudden change of environment, but Leörmn had great difficulty at staying focused.
            By staying focused, he meant more than just focusing his attention and thoughts. Actually, not much more, as nothing more than his thoughts and his attention were creating of everything —his body included. When he failed to focus as he was now, usually he simply started to disappear from other’s awareness, even though he could be aware that he was still present in their proximity. For most of his activity was happening in the Unseen, and his body was unnecessary for him to manipulate that environment.

            The twin dragons, Heckle and Jeckle were equally disturbed, but to a lesser extent, perhaps because their communicating together made their de-focusing less of a concern.

            The place where they had been guided to was really unusual. Unusual for dragons at least. Even possibly hostile.

            It was like crossing that door had made them turn the physical reality inside-out, and though it was very similar on the surface, the exterior was significantly different.

            Apart from the twins, Leörmn was feeling energies, strong energies focused nearby. They were possibly as strong as dragons’ energies, though their configuration was unfamiliar.
            Where were they? What was this place?

            Leörmn was feeling so powerful undercurrents that it was very disturbing. In his discomfort, he tried to reach for a familiar energy.

            :fleuron:

            In the pool, Salome was feeling the disturbance, as it was already making the cave wobble slightly ever since Leörmn had taken off.

            Georges was having fun shape-shifting his skin to get more dolphin-like slickness, and was trying to bring her into his games, but she was caught by the demanding feeling and couldn’t concentrate on the game.

            She made a foam bubble around herself to lift her up above the surface of the water. “There… I’ve always felt better in the air.” As a matter of fact, be it only the slight gain of altitude, but her thoughts felt clearer already.

            “Oh, my… They are on the Murtuane… Georges, you knew that?!”

            Georges was having too much fun to actually physically answer, but Salome knew he was more than vaguely aware of that.

            She went deeper into herself, trying to see what was the issue… As far as she knew, the Murtuane was very closely tied to the Duane, and actions made into one of the planet had repercussions onto the other. They were close counterparts for each element, and perhaps it was the drawing closer of these which had created an imbalance of some kind.
            “Yes…” she smiled. She was seeing how it could be made easier.

            She sent to Leörmn the clearest picture she could make, then popped her foam bubble, to gracefully dive into the pool, having changed her skin to that of a black and white killer whale.

            :fleuron:

            “Thank the Elder Gods,” Leörmn thought, as he just received the warm familiar energy of Salome from deep inside himself.

            So that was it… He had to find his counterparting Nirgual, and merge with her for the duration of their little excursion here.
            N’meôrl was the name. Salome had met her already a long time ago. She was a brilliant shade of abrigot (some orange smooth fruit).

            It would be quite easy actually. Like the Dragons, Nirguals were summoned by their true name, no matter the distance.
            Blessed be Salome…

            Popping back into focus, Leörmn pronounced loudly “N’meôrl, I hereby summon thy!

            When the huge bird appeared all the others who had started to assail the dragon with question were startled.

            Contrary to all appearances, Leörmn was not a dragon of many words, so very few needed to be actually exchanged. The two creatures both knew what had to be done to preserve the balance. And even if they had not known, the pressure on their energy fields was so intense that the merging was just like two magnets drawing closer naturally.

            And One again they were.

            #1124
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              The Chief Minister of the Oddlings sat behind her desk, smiling at her new protege.

              “Well then, T57, you’re ready to start. Who have you been assigned to?” she asked.

              “Gabor, Sindy and Swinde” replied T57 promptly. She wasn’t quite sure who these characters were, but the names popped into her head strongly at that moment, and if she’d learned anything at the Ministry, it was to trust whatever popped into her head.

              “Gabor, Sindy and Swinde!” exclaimed the Chief Minister. “Why, they’re mine!”. She rummaged through the files on her desk. T57 assigned to three from her own batch! This was going to be interesting!

              #1122
              Jib
              Participant

                Reading back some old entries in the reality play, Sam was surprised to find one about bodyflumping in the forest.
                FoxSam raised its ears suddenly as the comment was about his focus Eschraiel. Sam wondered what it was connected to… maybe something about daring and trusting…

                #1118

                The corridors were unusually long and Malvina was thinking of urging Leormn back to the cave, but she pulled herself together and began to sing a well known song of her friends’ world.

                :fleuron:

                Mandrake was trying desperately to relax, but apparently Yikesy wasn’t seeing it that way. Vincentius was so patient that it wasn’t human… well he wasn’t human after all, and Mandrake was beginning to doubt the baby could be human too, his dark rocky face notwithstanding.

                After all he had done to amuse him, the baby’s responses were quite disappointing. His subtle puns, his witticisms and his elaborate jokes all overlooked… And worse, that devilish baby dared pull his tail! Mandrake couldn’t help a disgraceful meow before he ran away from the scoundrel.
                Vincentius had told him the baby was a bit young, but the cat was suspecting a particularly mischievous tendency.

                The baby stopped crying and shouting. That’s when Mandrake realized someone was coming.
                Strange song really, he had never heard that language before… maybe it was just jibberish. He sprang on his feet and sidestepped skillfully another attempt of the little one to catch his tail. It was the occasion he was waiting for.

                :fleuron:

                Focused on her 100th kilometer, Malvina hadn’t notice she was arrived. Vincentius was attending to the child’s need and she had just the time to notice the cat who had just snaked under her petticoat.

                — Mandrake, be careful! I almost walked on your tail…

                — Meow! (that one was quite elegant and he was proud of it) Well, he said ironically, I was trained by the boy…

                She laughed at the idea of Mandrake tormented by Yikesy.

                — He’s Yike a cyclone, not resting until complete exhaustion.
                The trace of bitterness in his tone surprised him, though he began to relax under her smile. That was a long time since he hadn’t purred like that… he really liked her presence and energy, and it seemed to influence the kid also.

                — Are you going to make him sleep? he asked eagerly.

                — Oh no, I’ve merely soothed your energy and the baby is responding quite readily to the newborn calmness of the room.

                — That was rude, he said as if offended, but he was grateful for it. Vincentius, my dear fellow companion in this godforsaken place, he called to divert attention from him. Look at who’s here.

                The semi-god turn quickly his head and bowed it slightly before returning to his main preoccupation.

                — He’s a bit rude too. He had barely welcomed you…

                — Well he’s quite aware I’m not here for him or the baby.

                #1106

                “Fancy a cuppa, Sue?” Norm asked.

                Sue Flay accepted gratefully. “Yeah, Norm, a cuppa sounds nice”. What a day it had been.

                “Mad bunch of nutters, this lot, eh?” Norm smiled ruefully.

                “I should say so!” replied Sue. “Are all movie people as wacky as this?”

                It was Sue Flay’s first venture into movies, although she was already famous as the singer with the Ova Tones, the popular all girl band.

                “No, they’re not” replied Norm. “Frankly, no, they are not this mad usually. This is a decidedly odd bunch, if you ask me”.

                “Oooh” said Sue, momentarily speechless. “Hhmmmm”.

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