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  • #934
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      New Venice, March 2034

      After so many “haven’t been on my honeymoon yet!” ( ¹² ) , Becky was relieved to see that she had fast-forwarded time so nicely that, finally, in a few hours of time now, they would depart for Sri Lanka.

      Of course, the last events with her wavering in different probabilities, and manifesting more of what she had tried —almost by reflex— to avoid were still on her mind. She had felt a bit sorry for Sean, but she knew all along that the choices were hers, and worrying unduly about others, even if that was about her dear spouse, wouldn’t be efficient at all, needless to say not even slightly helpful.
      She had to concentrate more on the way she wanted to express herself. That way, she knew she would draw to her the perfectly appropriate situations —while the less than appealing stuff would recede in the background under a good dose of acceptance fairy dust.

      Though still a bit weary of her unexpected pregnancy from a future traveler who hadn’t even had the tact to propose her to elope with him, her minds were fresh and excited as ever at the thought of hopping like a daft goat on the Lion’s Rock in Sigiriya. And her good mood seemed to have an infectious effect on Sean who hadn’t even inquired of what local liquor there would be on the island. Perhaps the aura of the spiritual region had already blessed Sean with some renewed optimism.

      As she was fondly stuffing her skimpy honeymoon outfit in the already ready to burst piece of luggage, she smiled blissfully, remembering all of a sudden how she had forgotten to be gentle with herself these past few days, and how nice it was to treat herself with shiny and twinkling shards of spicy new adventures.
      She could indeed feel the excitement of doing some psychic archeology (as her step-mother used to call that) on these spots full of collective energies that she hadn’t had the taste of in many months.

      #928

      Passing through the security cordon of the giant spiders had been relatively easy, thanks to the indications telepathically passed down to them by the Snoot .
      With Anita on her back, Yurmaela the gruffoon had come back to the borgulm tree where Claude had been left to watch. After a moment of surprise at the unexpected apparition, he didn’t take long to decide whether he wanted to stay or not and had jumped on the broad back with the little smiling girl who was grabbing on the coarse hair of the beast.

      Keep you energies and your attention close to us, said Yurmaela Just like Akayli is doing with your parents, Anu. Though they have plenty of eyes, the giant spiders mostly rely on their energy perception, and they won’t see you if you stay within our energy field.

      A few minutes later, they were all standing in front of the growirling wortex, partially masked by the bark of the huge babul tree, which was standing out with its massive appearance. Flames of what seemed to be dark floating matter were pulsating very slowly, enhancing the thumping sound of their hearts.

      Ready to come back home sweet Anu? Akayli said fondly to the little girl?
      Yes, it was so much fun you all came to play with me… I’d want you to stay with me.
      What do you say? asked Claude They ain’t coming?
      This reality had a special design which allowed us to project very easily here said Yurmaela very softly in that reality of you, and Anita and Akita; as for now, the barrier in that reality is thicker than it is here.
      But we are always present around Anu, you know that said Akayli kneeling down to wrap his spotted furry arms around the little girl
      Yes I know she was smiling And I miss my parents too
      So let’s go, the wortex will close any moment now

      #925
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        “My yellow is fine and dandy”
        Said green hued sickly Mandy
        “You’re mad to suggest
        A yellow sick fest”
        Said sickly green hued Mandy.

        :yahoo_sick:

        That wasn’t one of your finest, dear, said Tina disparagingly.
        Becky sighed. I need to find a Limerick support group.

        Mandy felt better at once
        “I feel better than I have in months.
        You may be mad,
        And that is sad!
        But now I fancy some lunch.”

        :yahoo_pig:

        These are special Kuzhebarian Healing Limericks you know, Becky said a trifle huffily. Nobody appreciates my limericks.

        Mr X is making some rice.
        It’ll be ready in just a trice;
        All soupy and wet,
        She’ll feel better I bet
        In a trice, at a modest price.

        :yahoo_money_eyes:

        “You tried”, she said with a smirk
        “But I doubt if it will work”

        Tina interrupted: “You tried she said with a sigh”

        Becky sighed. I was hoping you’d smirk dear, she said to Tina. The word smirk is on my ’100 things challenge’ list.
        Tina rolled her eyes and Becky continued:

        “But the poppy is making me high!
        So thanks for that!
        I’ll eat my hat.”
        She said, “Now I’m starting to fly!”

        :balloon:

        Mandy flies off down the street,
        Smiling gaily at all she meets
        “I’m high, I can fly!”
        She said with a sigh
        Of joyous delight. How sweet!

        :yahoo_eyelashes:

        Mongloose had a moment of doubt
        “I fear she is still in a prout.
        But one never does know
        How these healing rhymes flow
        Before long she’ll be up and about.”

        :yahoo_idk: :heart:

        #921

        It had been a week now. Georges had fully taken his role as Shu-Lom, the eleventh Gate in the Council of the Guardians. His mergence with the actual focus of Blöhmul was fading out ; the transition had been smooth, unnoticed by most of the Guardians, even his closest friends. Georges was careful not to display any unusual change in Shu-Lom’s attitude, though some of them were showing signs of suspicion, especially… his own focus, Sinadron who was the most susceptible to be aware of the difference. Georges had been avoiding him since his arrival, but he would eventually have to face him for one of the rituals soon to begin.
        Of the eleventh other Guardians, only 2 were considering him as a friend, Doh’Maar and Vogel. Most of the others were ignoring him during the sessions and Sinadron were despising him. Well, technically he was despising Shu-Lom and the change would not make things go easier between the 2 of them as the energy of their 2 focuses were sort of repulsing each other.
        Following Shu-Lom’s habits, he was heading to the public baths, but contrary to him, he was going during daylight. He needed some answers. He had been feeling strong tensions between the Gates, and there were also underlying feeling of discontentment and anger among the other Guardians. For the first time in their history, unknown groups of their kind were attacking the other races and provoking them and generating feelings of fear, even amongst the Guardians.
        The man he was following would give him some of the answers. He would have to befriend him first though. Noraam had a smooth energy, and he would be easy to approach, especially in the dampness of the baths.

        Noraam was wearing an grey cape, attached on his shoulders with carved fibulae. His robe was short, above his knees, and rather dark. He was quite young by the standards of the Guardians and still fiery. Shu-Lom was young too, about the same age as Noraam, but he was quite pessimistic and self-effacing, and especially he wanted to leave, that he did, and Georges took his place.
        Georges suddenly felt a familiar energy, one that he would recognize anywhere, anytime. Salome… rather another focus of her essence. Hahaha, that was a surprise, and he almost lost track of what he was doing. Noraam was already taking the stairs up to the baths. Something about the energy of that focus was attractive, he still didn’t know who it was or what he/she(?) was doing here. Maybe just a projection. He didn’t have time to investigate. Heading to the stairs where Noraam was already being dematerialized and rematerialized to the first level, he heard a child’s voice.

        Can you help me?.. I know you can.

        What again, another distraction… he would be late to the baths and maybe loose the occasion to speak with the other Gate.

        Looking down at the origin of the voice, he was surprised to see a little girl, red hair and amber eyes. As he could see, she was blind, but as he could feel, she was quite capable of seeing things.

        Do I know you, little one? He had not been aware of this child in Shu-Lom’s memories, and he was wondering if he had missed something during his encounters with the original.

        You dreamt of me the other night, but you weren’t here yet.

        Her last words triggered a memory, of him carrying a naked little girl in his arms, protecting her in a way, and he was following a man in his dream, trying to keep track… in his dream, he was rushing and almost lost the child, following also Salome who had already taken the stairs… yes he was here in his dreams, the place and the stairs were the same… as was the child.

        What is your name little one? In my dream you were followed by an owl
        You can call me Ar’Meel.

        :fleuron:

        Sam thought he could write it somewhat differently. With his understanding of Georges’ abilities, he could well have split in two and followed Salome and stayed with the girl simultaneously and maybe even Noraam.
        A smile.
        He was feeling wobbly and wavy. A ripple effect?
        It seemed that there had been a strange recognition between his character and himself. It was like Georges was aware of Sam wanting to change what had happened… or was it a suggestion of Georges?

        #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

        #912

        Oh, shite, an aghast Yurick told Finn in the messaging window.
        What? asked Finn who was giggling (with great dignity) at the new comment he’d just made
        There will be retaliations says the cloud:

        “quickly storm stupid Dory closer front
        try suddenly syncs side free creating
        taken empty dreams let thread open
        against beautiful picked”…

        #1509
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Referrer list

          :notepad: An new (small) [but hopefully useful] feature added today, the Search for referrers link next to the comments links.

          :creating_magic: It should give you the comments list referring to the comment you are reading. Useful when you’re reading an old comment, and trying to find (more recent) information using that comment.

          When you are in the search list, don’t forget you need to click on the highlighted excerpt, and not on the title link, to be sent directly to that comment.

          On a side note, don’t hesitate to link previous comments to the ones you are writing, so that it creates more back-links…

          #909

          The confusion that Claude had made on the spiders ranks had been all that Phurt had waited for.
          In her agitation she hadn’t felt the signals that the Mother had been hurt during the fight.

          The only thing that obsessed Phurt now was that a way was now clear for the giant spider to go nearer the “wortex”. She could feel it, it was coming from the elder tree, the roots of which went spreading miles and miles away.
          Perhaps she could subjugate that raw power, consume it wholly and become one with it.

          But, as she went closer and closer, she started to feel as if she wasn’t the one eating or absorbing it, but the reverse was true. She started to struggle as she felt sucked into the wortex, crying as she felt doomed to oblivion, as old Narani had been telling them. How stupid had she been, she should have heard her. And as the Mother was now dying instead of becoming the new Mother, she was now about to die with her.
          But now was too late for laments. She had to embrace her destiny, and if it meant to die, she would, with pride.

          :fleuron:

          They all had felt it simultaneously. Armelle and the Snoot on the borgulm tree, Yuki and Rafaela, waiting with Anita near the perimeter made by the spiders, and Akayli the werelynx, carrying the mummified parents.

          What’s happening Claude asked to the owl

          One of the giant spiders went through the hole, and we’ll have to follow her said Yuki to Anita.

          The good thing is that the turmoil will keep the wortex opened a little longer Akayli thought to himselves.

          Armelle, go open the way now the Snoot whispered to the owl, then poofed away in a gurgling liquid sound.

          #908

          They won’t stop those nasty buggers! Tearing apart all our beauty machines! Awww, poor Vessie will be devastated! Gloria said sadly, coming dangerously close to the spot
          Watch’out Glo! Sharon cried as a menacing magpie came cawing at her while the others were ripping the machine apart in gruesome metallic sounds.
          Bugger! Bugger! cried Gloria Won’t bloddy poke me eyes! She started to wave her arms and kick out in erratic movements to brush out the bouncing and flying bird.

          STAY CLEAR! the voice of Sha thundered a few moments after, and before Gloria could notice anything, a big thud with a crunching sound went zooming past her.
          Bloddy brilliant Sha! Gloria said, spreading the fatty fingers of her hands off her face to look at the magpie crunched under a coconut. Not so proud now, bloddy bugger! she sniggered at the bird.

          She almost giggled as she looked up on her friend. In a second, she understood how the coconut had been thrown. Ye’re bloody genius Sha! Wouldn’t have thought of using me bra as a sling! she beamed at her nearly naked friend wearing all but wrinkles and padding.

          Oh the buggers, won’t get away with it! an all bucked up Gloria said, stripping her bra off her opulent breasts.
          Dammit, they got something! T’s‘all shiny like a crystal ball! Must be a U.V. lamp or something
          They won’t get away with it! We’ll knock ‘em out one by one those nasty buggers; any more coconuts by yourself sweetie?
          Got aye few pomegranates here
          Go fer it!

          #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.

          #902
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Blimey O Riley, said Becky when she read what she’d written the previous evening. As she read it over again, though, a picture began to form in her mind, a character was starting to form.

            I was connecting to a focus, she surmised, A focus as a simple country washerwoman. A simple person, choosing to experience a life of simple pleasures, not bogged down with deep meaningful thoughts or ideas; not striving for insights or accomplishments, a pure and simple life for a pure and simple soul.

            The washerwoman used words differently, she didn’t use words to communicate with anyone, she simply used the bubbling gurgling endless stream of sounds to amuse herself…endlessly babbling, always smiling, infinitely amused with the sheer joyous nonsense of the sounds tumbling from her lips, broadcasting seeds of absurdity in the cornfields and the meadows of the hay hoo down dooly…..

            #900

            START! said Tina.

            Becky and Tina were doing a meditation together, and Becky decided to just write whatever popped into her head. She could always delete it afterwards, or edit it, she reasoned.

            “Bagpush got out of the washtub”, Becky scribbled, “ And scooted down along the river line to the marks butty big one by the farm. Heavens above, fishly, what’s that brown thing on the water butt? Gawbsmacker said, don’t be talking like that, shekeltons in a hide to ho where and its first light, fair bright and hey ho the wash go. Abbon Ipswich, slaty flats of corncake, hey dee on the wash bucket, spittin in the hole hey down dooly. Margaret Apsworth laying on the white cotton cake spread, fair dooly down the one hooly. Ay and its a hey ho fair fooly down by the wash pooly, drum rolling in the har fool haley, down by the dash darnly. I said, hey ho the brown tooly, hoggin all the raw tooly, stewing in the far fooly for eight pence an hour. Said Mavis of the green sportwear, theres may flowers in the far horse hair, weel butter in the spar for tucker and muck down in the cow butter, said bree in the bird barny, a flying for the far fooly, well its knees up and out your dooly for the green hay beer fair. Its a fine night for a hooly in the row bottom in the far fooly, said mavis of the tom fooly, in the wash bucket down stairs. Once more, sell a nickel farthing, in the morning and in the darning, and say way more is in the star sign than a wash bucket down stairs.”

            Good greif, exclaimed Becky, What was all that about?

            What a load of twaddle, Becky, said Tina with a laugh.

            Well you know what? It was kind of fun and refreshing to just write nonsense
            I am sick of things MEANING something, Becky said, and then, warming to her subject:

            Lets have some good old fashioned MEANINGLESSNESS!

            #1803

            In reply to: Synchronicity

            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster


              Yesterday sync: while watching a series, something popped in in relation to the crystal skulls.

              The thing is, Roslin, the woman character on the screenshot, is a president dying from a cancer, and is wearing a black wig. We had been discussing black wig with Finn previously.

              Later that night, Tracy shared about an experience that she and her friends just had during the afternoon, which was interpreted by Arkandin as a bleedthrough from a dying focus of her friend’s husband. He said that this focus would be in Chile.
              Tracy inquired if there was a Chile thread already in the story, to which I told her there was

              And I was quite impressed to see there was a connection not only to crystal skulls and Chile, but also with dying person, and wig…

              L-)

              #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.

              #894

              Master Tfark , I am pleased to hear that this mission will soon bring me what I requested.
              — We are here to serve, Madam, answered obsequiously the chief of the magpies gang. As long as, of course, the promised payment is ready.
              — Wasn’t the first part of the payment satisfactory? snapped the woman with an aggressiveness so subtle that no one could have said that there was even a single trace of rudeness in her voice.
              — Yes Madam, the device you provided worked perfectly. We are eager to continue our little arrangements.
              — Very well. Bring the Arachnid Skull quickly now.

              #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…

              #892
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Al took another pleased look at the animated stereographic pictures of himself he had been pleased to see in a special feature of Wisp. Oddly enough, he usually didn’t care to appear in such an outlet of officially held beliefs (now that most people were indeed living those previously-considered-odd concepts described issue after issue, it wasn’t like it was unofficial experiences any longer), but considering the amount of readers, he couldn’t have just turned down such a proposition of coverage.

                After putting the magazine into the drawer, Al voiced the cyputer on. An expensive acquisition this cyputer, but Tina and him had agreed that this new artificial-consciousness device would be worth more than a try, and probably would help them with putting some order in the entangled threads of their story submissions. Well, of course Tina had been slightly reluctant at first, as she had felt her taxonomy skills being rebuked, but Al had tenderly reminded her with a wink that they would be soon more equipped than sooo last-century Becky Pooh.
                Tina had bit her sensual glossy crimson lips when she almost spilled the beans about Becky’s expected kid who would probably teach her a trick or two on the new technology. Little did she know that Al knew a few things about this adventure

                The suave voice of the cyputer asked if he cared to read the new additions on the story.
                Oh good… Al rubbed his hand with expectation, and started to carefully listen to Tina’s last additions.

                :fleuron:

                Al had felt quite stimulated by what he had just had the cyputer read aloud with Tina’s sampled voice, and had to refrain himself from writing another long comment just after that. Essentially for Sam’s sake who would complain about Al being a pooper of big comments… ;))

                #890

                The Council room was silent but the energy was tense and electric.
                Nareena and Noraam were reading an energy ball from their peers on the Murtuane’s Kandulim shore. There had been an uprising of the Zentauras concerning exactions committed by what could be called a rebel faction of the Guardians. They had no name to call them, and they were invisible to their search, through their inner vision or other devices.
                The Gates were concerned by this behavior amongst their kin, especially since they would soon face a difficult choice in their evolution and society. Keliom had warned them since the beginning many years ago when it was just speculations, when they were needing a source of power so intense that it was against their knowledge to even believe in it.
                But the source had been found. It was through an unexpected mean. And now…

                This is unacceptable from our kind Noraam. The Council should decide something to get rid of these culprits.

                You know that it is against our customs. And especially, Sinadron and Keliom wouldn’t allow it and you know their influence over the others.

                I also sense that you are not comfortable with the idea either…

                Nareena sighed with resignation.

                I wonder how far would they have to go before we decide to do something. It is something to disregard the other races, but it is another to tease them and attack them. It is not even a matter of really wanting to hurt them, I feel a deliberate desire to make them angry against us, and I wonder who among us would want that.

                Noraam looked at her, intrigued. He saw the face of a man, a vautruche on his left shoulder. The only one of them who would want a vautruche as a pet. These animals were so unpredictable that one could think they were a vicious species, but they were expressing qualities such as determination and swiftness that were also somewhat desirable, and he could understand that. They were really fascinating with their moving colors. Depending on their mood, their skin was quickly changing, pulsing, irradiating, glazing, hypnotic, or just dark and unnoticeable.

                Do you really mean what I briefly saw, Nareena?

                She blushed before his twinge. I don’t trust him, and he makes me feel very uncomfortable. She wouldn’t admit to him that she was sensing some sexual attraction from him, and to him, but she couldn’t accept it as his energy was mostly repulsing and the thirst of power she could glimpse in his eyes was simply frightening.

                No, I don’t like Sinadron .

                #1801

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  few spider synchs – the other night I had a vivid dream of a spider, a large one with a funny symbol on it’s back. I found it in my ice-cream and was trying to catch it in a small plastic jar. Then I decided I must search the icecream to see if there were any more spiders. The icecream parted in the middle and changed texture, resembling the texture of a spider’s nest. When I woke up I read Eric’s new comment

                  I had been planning to add a spider comment to the tifikijoo island thread and was had a particular comment in mind. The next time I looked at the story site, the comment I had been thinking of came up as the random quote

                  Franiel thread , where I talked about the messenger birds Fincheons and introduced a motorbike – I wrote this directly before going to my hairdresser. As he was talking he told me he had always wanted a motorbike. He had to leave me for a few minutes to move the motorbike of another client which was blocking the access way. He also told me he’d had an unusual bird incident, a fantail had on two separate occasions circled his head, freaking him out rather. The maori believe this bird is a messenger bird, some believe it is an omen of death, others that it is an omen of good-luck … well whatever it is regarded as a messenger. Another synch with the comment; the fincheons are grey birds, the fantail found commonly in NZ is the grey fantail

                  A couple of synch numberplates today: EAGL 1 and EGY221

                  #889

                  Wow that had been bizarre! Veranassessee stood at the bathroom basin and splashed icy cold, reviving water on her face. She knew she’d had sex with Agent Gabriele … however the experience had a slightly surreal quality, not unlike a dream, details slipping elusively away from her as she tried to grasp hold of them. She giggled nervously as she dried her face with a towel. Did she really want to remember? She had just passed Agent Gabriele in the corridor and he had winked at her, saying he couldn’t wait to try the ‘reverse cleaning maid ‘ again. A sudden image came to mind and she saw her skin darken in the mirror as a hot wave of embarrassment flooded her. Good Grief! She thought guiltily of Mahiliki. She hoped the other island had not been too badly affected by cyclone Ycart, so far it seemed Tifikijoo had come off quite lightly.

                  Veranassessee had already checked on the guests, Jose Maria and Paquita were still in their room, Mavis was huddled under her bedding and informed her in a muffled voice that Sha and Glor had gone looking for her.

                  :fleuron:

                  Well she’s not in her bloody room so where is she eh? Gloria and Sha were on the warpath, determined to get some answers from Veranassessee.

                  ‘Ere, Sha! Bloody hell! Glor shook her head in disbelief.

                  What’s up Glor?

                  Bloody magpies … there are bloody magpies in ‘ere!

                  What! Nasty little buggers those magpies. Poke yer bloody eyes out if yer aint careful.

                  ‘Ere what they up to eh? Bloody hopping all over that whats-a-ma-callit-doo-dacky machine.

                  They’ll be going for the shiny bits I reckon. They do that those magpies. ‘Ere we’d better stop them, might never get our bloody beauty treatments if they bugger that machine up.

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