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  • #1978

    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

    Jib
    Participant

      :yahoo_thinking: I think the noise is really related to the story ;))
      this scrying is quite clear to me.

      book understand sam %{color:red}tomkin%* friends tell longer heard happening action already smiled calling joe asked must self experience images given love

      #565
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        It had been a long trip home, and Dory was glad the journey was over. She sat on the patio in the warm winter sunshine, surrounded by affectionate wet doggy noses who prodded her arm, making her slop her fresh squeezed orange juice. The birds twittered and screeched in the lemon and olive trees. She closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure. Home!

        The screeching turned into a long drawn out yowl, and it was a moment or two before Dory realized that monkey Charlie had rounded up a gang of his canine buddies for another cat mauling expedition down at the bottom of the garden. Dory leapt to her feet and ran down the cobbled path, shrieking at the dogs to stop. She rescued the limp and traumatized, but thankfully unhurt cat, and wondered again what she was reflecting to herself every time her dogs ganged up on one of her cats.

        Shaking slightly, she sat down again in the patio chair, cradling the wide eyed cat, her fur standing in sticky peaks of dog saliva. Dory had stroked the fur smooth, and relaxed. Home! It was great to be home.

        #564
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          Finn decided to go and sit in the park at the playground over the road. She needed to feel the grass under her feet, and the warm sun on her body. There had been a small shower of rain earlier, the orchardists will be pleased, she thought, but it had cleared up now, and everything had a newly washed feel. She felt the gentle breeze on her skin, and sighed happily. At least I know this this feels real to me.

          #561

          “…..there will be three people who will travel to Egypt in the near future to unlock a doorway to a secret chamber. This chamber will house the information of our past (planetary and universal) and will also have written within the names of the three individuals who opened the door. I wonder who they will be and do we already know of them?….”

          Well, now there’s an idea, thought Becky, glad that she’d decided to investigate the link that Alfina had posted to the Reality Play’s message board.

          Well, that would explain it! she said, when she came to the part about dragons

          Blimey! Becky said, “The Carians are known for their sharp analytical abilities and organizational skills.” Sounds familiar!

          #560

          He decided to go for it.

          PROUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT

          and it rippled through his dreams and created of new sparkling realities… some quite smelly by our standards ;))

          #556
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Chris! you look terrible! Nurse Bellamy, momentarily startled by Dr Bronklehampton’s unkempt appearance, lapsed into first name basis. Dr Bronklehampton always insisted that a certain level of protocol be observed, except in their more intimate moments of course.

            But today he did not even seem to notice her small indiscretion. Nurse Bellamy was perplexed.

            I’ll bring you a nice glass of warm coconut milk, and you’ll be right as rain, she said hopefully. As she turned to go a bandaged figure propped up against the wall caught her eye. The apparition was made even more surreal by the addition of a bright yellow wig on it’s head. She screamed, clutching her hand to her bosom.

            Oh my God!, what is it! she exclaimed in startled surprise.

            A Mummy of course, what does it look like? answered Dr Bronklehamptom in a listless voice.

            :fleuron:

            Chris Bronklehampton stared at the Mummy, and wondered how things could have gone so horribly wrong. All he had ever wanted was to do something good for mankind. Well that isn’t quite true, Chris is it, hmmm really? Weren’t you after a bit of fame and fortune as well?

            You won’t get away with this, you know, said the Mummy.

            #547
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              “Of course, as soon as they had stepped into the powerful magnetic field generated inside the T.R.A.P., the reality around them was transphormed as if they all had been into a huge deFørmiñG mirror, that they could shape with their strangest thoughts.

              Obviously, they had all started to hallucinate some funny stuff…

              It was happening so quick, Sam noticed.”

              Hahahah! Becky actually laughed out loud. Sleepily, she hoped she’d remember to make a connection between the sheriffs frog accident and the T.R.A.P. trip when she was feeling more alert.

              #1973

              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                This one feels like a poem…

                Caught during game surprise
                “Thought focus”, reality eye
                true sleep, eggs feel magic
                looked against felt process
                difficult face created come

                #538

                A dragon egg was hatching. A bluish light around the shell.
                That egg was not in a rookery, it was in the Marshes of Doom.

                A little girl was passing by and whistling. She was eight and quite unaware of what was happening. But she was drawn to that particular spot where she could see something shining. Her excitement was enhanced by the unheard humming of the baby dragon emerging. Her heart was full of joy and happyness.

                She had that name in her mind Asiir and that song her mother was always singing to her when she was younger. At times she would sing it to her again, lost in her memories. And it was quite endearing a song, about another world blending with their own, that world, what was the name?

                La Phrëal said a voice in her head. She was a bit startled and stopped singing. Nothing… just the joy and the excitement. She started to walk again in the tall grass.

                She continued with her song and began to see the edges of the egg. Wow, she stopped in awe. It was beautiful, with many shades of blue and it was pulsing. Seeing it she was even more full of joy and of love. All fear she could have had before had vanished of her heart.

                Lola, I’m choosing you

                Hearing these words in her head, her heart exploded of joy, it was so intense the she burst out crying and laughing at the same time. The shell had cracked open and she could see the little creature emerging, so graceful, pink with golden shades. How will she explain that to her parents? :yahoo_rose:

                #529
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Sawyer reached for his boots, his eyes still blind with sleep. He didn’t know how much longer he could cope with all this. Years ago, when he’d joined the Weather Incident Rescue Team, or WIRT, he’d imagined a relatively easy life, long spells of inactivity in which to play poker with his team-mates, and an occasional exciting incident. Little did he realize that he would be working on average a 100 hour week…and even then, the team was chronically short-staffed.

                  #523
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    This Ogrean character seems to be getting alot of stick, eh, Tina, Becky was frowning.

                    Yeah, Tina agreed, Bit OTT if you ask me. Dunno what all that’s about.

                    Seems like a scapegoat really, Becky mused, but in truth she was perplexed.

                    #516
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Becky scratched her head in confusion. She wondered if she’d ever catch up with all the new characters and story lines in the Reality Play. Who the fuck was Joe? Yeah, he was cute, but who was he?

                      Becky sneezed again and shivered. Her cold was making her feel strangely disconnected and floaty. Nothing made much sense anymore, but it didn’t really seem to matter.

                      #515

                      That Abe sure is ugly as a burnt boot and crazier than a run over coon, aint he, said Isadora, one of the saloon girls who Twilight didn’t cotton on to much. The other girls laughed.

                      Twilight was real fond of old Abe, and truth was she was feeling right tetchy and pernikity and itching for a fight, and she weren’t much in the mood for dancing that night.

                      And your brain cavity wouldn’t make a drinkin cup for a canary Isadora. So why don’t you just shut that big old stupid mouth of yours before everyone cottons on to the fact that you are studying to be a half-wit.

                      Why you are nothing but a no-good little strumpet, screeched Isadora, lunging at Twilight and trying to grab her blond wig. Twilight stepped nimbly out of the way.

                      And you aint nothing but a stupid little buckle bunny, taunted Twilight. You got nothing better to do then follow those rodeo fellows around?

                      Snakes Alive! exclaimed Madame Butterbutt. Will you both hold yer tongues and stop yer bitching. And will you get a hurry on Twilight. Yer ain’t even dressed yet.

                      Isadora started crying. That Twilight started it, she snivelled.

                      Sooner i get rid of this damn one horse town the better, muttered Twilight under her breath. She touched the jewelled dagger lodged between her breasts. Those damn liquor breath cowboys better not mess with me tonight.

                      Old Abe, propping up the bar, chuckled

                      #514
                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        Arona curled up in front of the fire with little Yikesy. Vincentius was telling Yikesy one of his intriguing and colourful tales of far away, imaginary worlds …. there seemed to be men with toads and a girl who liked to dance and a strange blue bull creature that everyone wanted to get their hands on. To be quite honest, Arona couldn’t really follow it, but she loved the sound of Vincentius’ soothing voice. She sighed happily, it was so nice to be back.

                        #507

                        Ted was quite fond of Ogrean.
                        Twilight was a bit sorry for the sheriff, for she had thought him a good guy at first,… whatever that means… but obviously he was a bit blinded by the slickness of the slimy condescending Pompousaur.

                        But something interesting had happened this day, and she wondered how it would change things again.
                        Apparently, from what she had caught from the scene, Ted had left the saloon in a cold rage, and it was quite obvious that the Pudgeon was a bit distraught… What could have moved the jovial sheriff like that?

                        When she and Anna were changing clothes behind the scene after the representation, Anna started to talk quite freely and unexpectedly about the accident.

                        — That Marshall guy is not as silly as he seems…

                        As she was more talking to herself, Twilight didn’t answer.

                        — What d’ya reckon? Anna asked more directly
                        — Oh me? I don’t really know what happened…
                        — Don’t play dumb with me, girl. You’re smarter than you wanna show.

                        Twilight took some time to ponder…
                        — I don’t think that Ogrean tried to bribe the sheriff, not as obviously…
                        — Yeah…
                        — Apparently, he started to explain the sheriff who he was supposed to arrest, and that didn’t please him the least.
                        — More likely, yes. Definitely sounds like him…
                        Anna?
                        — Yes?

                        Twilight almost wanted to tell her how she did understand Anna and how it must have been difficult for her with that child from Mc Gaughran, but she couldn’t express all of that.

                        Terry is sweet.
                        — Yes he is, he’s a lovely boy. I love him so much despite…
                        — I know.

                        When she came back to their ranch, Twilight felt relieved somewhat about what had occurred. Perhaps that this era of heavy cloaked ruthless order incarnated by Ogrean was coming to an end.
                        She was a hopeless dreamer.

                        #1955

                        In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          mother perfect create, let mind self care, real beginning inside, focused, great, easily …

                          nice trip! getting story, already morning tell night making, finn managed against loved ago family focuses.

                          eyes far, surprise yourself! connected, crying, quiet.

                          dear Armelle, whatever experience smiled, gift noticed.

                          #505

                          Sirielle looked through the crystalline window.

                          A humpback whale was passing by. Sirielle loved the song of the whales. Gorgean whales like this one were males, singing all during the rut to attract females miles away. Every season they would keep most of the same music, adding variations at times to the melody. This one was a sly one, Sirielle could tell. With its beautiful purulent budgeonic spots on its back, it was an old mighty male whale that she had seen already the past seasons, but its song had changed ever so slightly. It had probably plagiarized some of the most successful songs from other whales to become more attractive and that would make him a bit over the top.
                          At least, the females had a good parade for such insistent huge males, they could just put themselves upside down, close to the surface, so that the indelicate male could not have access to the holy of holies.
                          Sirielle felt so close to the whales.

                          Today, she had noticed the first changes on her body. She was growing gills, and soon would be able to breathe underwater. She was already a proficient swimmer, from a young age, as her hands and feet had grown swimfins. But the most interesting modification wouldn’t occur before a certain age.
                          When she had entered the room of Crystals, she had been a bit disappointed. She had expected some great ceremony with old wizened long-bearded robed priests to operate the crystals, but there had been only a young man not much older than herself, and a distracted middle-aged woman.
                          The Crystals had the ability to beam some specially focused light and provoke realignment of the patterns of the body. It was like the vibration carried by the light and enhanced by the crystal would be modifying the vibrational quality of her organism, and make it change itself quite naturally from the inside.

                          She couldn’t wait to go out in the oceanic depths and test her newly grown organs to swim with the huge cetacean.

                          #502

                          Madame Butterbutt, the saloon landlady and iconic colourful figure, came back to her room in a fury.
                          She was living above the saloon, in a large room tastefully furnished, with some exuberant objects that she had gathered from her many commercial acquaintances.

                          She took one of her favourite cigarillos to calm her down.
                          That Mc Gaughran was such a… she wasn’t at loss for words. But none of them would have been strong or decent enough for the dork that he was. Ooops she smiled, this last one had almost slipped out unnoticed.

                          Unlike many people in that small town of San Demangelo, she wasn’t fearful of the man. Not of the man himself (she was almost a giantess compared to many women), and certainly not of his threats either, even though she knew what the man was capable of.
                          She knew well many of his shady tricks, but she also knew things about him that most of the time sufficed to keep him quiet and docile.

                          Today, she would have almost laughed at him when he had tried to pressure her by threatening to reveal to sheriff Ted Marshall her little trafficking of hallucinogenic toads. Pathetic of him.
                          That was really nothing, a little commerce she had with some remote part of her family in Guatemala, especially the voodoo witch Nana Del Conda. These were regularly brought to her by the old ambulant quack Myrlin who was selling all sorts of hocus pocus remedies, keeping the potent ones for Madame Butterbutt.

                          So nothing extraordinary about that… No,… what had brought her in that terrible mood was when the hoity-toity, pompous, arrogant, full of himself f*ckhead, oops she bit her lip again… When that jelly belly mugger had tried to coerce her into pushing the little Twi into his bed.
                          Repugnant.

                          When that foolhardy brother El Disperso is storming again into the bar to try to find quarrel and provoke the jelly pig into a brawl, she would perhaps let him have it his own way after all.
                          Last time her loath of firearms had been directed strongly against the young boy, perhaps also to protect him too… Anyway, he was perhaps right, allowing himself to “float downstream”, from the hate to the anger… and perhaps to hope and joy again.
                          She started to sound like dear ol’ Abe…

                          #499

                          Thanksgiving, 1847

                          That last business trip in British Honduras had proven fruitful to Aldous. It had almost made him forget about the blue bull of the Disperso family.
                          Because Aldous was a collector. No one truly understood what were his motivations, but he was driven by the highest ideals. Some treasures weren’t deserved by the profane, he was thinking as he was munching on a tender juicy turkey leg.
                          He belched with profound depth.
                          Yes, he was doing everything with utmost depth and dedication.

                          Take that blue bull for instance… A gift from Indian officials he had managed to have them bring here. Its real place was in a zoo, with a small fee at the entrance of course, but most importantly some information on how it was acquired and by whom. Definitely not in the farm of some hillbillies just because they have happened to win that stupid rodeo contest.
                          In any case, he would put that right again in due time.

                          Let’s think of more pleasant things. Like these mahogany traders who had came into contact with remote Mayan tribes. Mahogany was nice, but Mayan treasure were even more interesting.

                          #498

                          some writing by Twilight

                          Jo fixed me up a swing. It hung from the old elm tree out the front. That’s my favourite place. I just sit there rocking and thinking, and thinking and rocking. Sometimes I would weave stories or sometimes I would dream about when I am real famous. I know I will miss Jo and Elroy, but then I cheer myself up thinking how, when I am rich, I will visit them and give them money and presents and how fine that will be.

                          Elroy and Jo don’t know about my stories or how I love to write. I ain’t much good. I didn’t get much schooling but Elroy helped me some and then I would try and teach myself the rest. The only book we have is a big old bible. That is written in real fine words. The part I like the best is a song that Solomon wrote. I don’t know how the tune went but the words are real nice. It is real romantic too. I dream one day some man will use words like that to me. Not like those drunken slobs round these parts. Anyway, that’s how I know I am not much good, because I can’t write nothing like Solomon. But I try anyway.

                          Yesterday I was sitting out on the swing rocking and thinking and young Dan from the ranch over the way turned up on his horse. He looked real hot and red and sweaty. Mostly though, he is real fine looking, and I confess I have a soft spot for him. So I leapt off the swing real quick and straightened myself up and bit my lips to make them all big and red. I wanted him to see I had developed some in the last little while.

                          Where’s your brothers, Twi? he said to me.

                          I felt he didn’t seem to be giving me the appreciation I hoped for, so I did a little flick of my head and gave him the look I had been practising. I had seen the other girls do this look to the men at the saloon, and it seemed to work a treat. I gestured at the same time, real slow and casual, and I said “Out the back, Dan.” in a honey voice.

                          He started to ride off, like he was in a hurry. But then he stopped. My heart did a little flutter. He said to me, “You know Twi, the boys at the ranch were talking about you. And it wasn’t the sort of talk should be said about a lady”.

                          When Dan said that, I felt he had kicked me in the guts. I wanted to gasp. But I am plenty used to putting up with things and not showing my true feelings, so I just looked at him real cold. Then I spat. I have been practising my spitting and I can do it real good now. Nearly as good as Jo.

                          “I am just telling you Twi he said. I thought he would say more, but he seemed to reflect for a moment, then shook his head and off he went in a hurry to find the boys.

                          Elroy and Jo looked real bothered when I saw them later. I knew when to hold my tongue so I did not give them no smart talk, and I cooked up a real fine bean dish for their supper. It was real quiet over the table that night. Truth was, I still felt mighty bad over what Dan had said.

                          I confess I felt some cares and sadness on me that evening when I went to bed, and found I could not sleep. I got out my diary and thought I would do some writing.
                          I tried to write what my name, Twilight, means to me. My real name is Tina Willemine Ivy El Disperso. I always been called Twi. Then Hank at the saloon, he says one night, “I am calling you Twilight and that sort of caught on. It made me feel special, having my own stage name.

                          I started writing. Lavender blue sky bleeding into the dark. I thought that sounded quite a good start to my writing, so feeling a bit encouraged I went on some more: Twilight is a magic time. It is the time I see things that aint there, but maybe they could be. My eyes play tricks on me in the half light and I feel like I could be anyone. I feel like I could be someone who I isn’t. Twilight is the time of promises. The promise and mystery of the night to come. It is inbetween time when you know the ordinary stuff could be magic.

                          I stopped. I weren’t never going to be able to write like Solomon. I knew that and I felt real bad. At least I could dance though, and that was going to make me famous. But that thought could not cheer me up this night and I confess I cried myself to sleep like a baby.

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