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  • #1023
    1da
    Participant

      4:21:44 PM 8-8-08 1da Geolocation Time.

      sometimes the flow climbs a mountain.

      pause. step. quick step. pause again. step. upstream another step. the stones solid, smooth, settled beneath my feet with the timeless passing of water. the path of gravity. the rising of a mountain. a rapid, considered, going on pace. sand between the stones. the moments of time. light on the rippling waters flickering. the air transparent, timeless, crisp, cool.

      knowing i’ve passed this way before, i pass again for the first time.

      it’s good to be back. returning. beginning.

      knowing my destination. the cave far above beneath the ancient pine. the boulder near the rough and gnarled trunk, slick and smooth. so hard the sense is of softness gliding with my fingers over the iridescent surface. soft to sit upon, to watch the valley far below extending forever into the distance. soft to recline upon, arcing my back. the warmth of the day in the stone, lingering far into the night to heat my bones. …knowing my destination, i take the next step into all that is new.

      sitting near the water. deep transparent pools of green/blue. the setting red sun. a shelter beneath driftwood high on the bank. a myrtle tree draping a blanket of scent over me, opening my soul. with each breath. i watch the light fading into the words echoing through my skull… life is hard… the song…

      Life is hard
      Anyway you cut it
      Life is sweet,
      Like a berry from a tree
      Life is temptation, baby,
      Every single day
      Life is hard

      Life is funny,
      I dont mean ha-ha
      It‘s not always sunny,
      When it needs to be
      Life is frightening,
      Nothing lasts forever
      Life is hard

      My time
      Is next to nothing
      My time
      Falls on you, yeah
      Everything
      Is in motion
      Life is hard

      Life is precious,
      No matter how you see it
      Life is crazy,
      Like yellow fishes in the street
      Life is lonely
      When you‘re not with me
      Life is hard

      Gentlemen
      Is that you story?
      Hanging religion
      From a tree, yeah
      My time
      Is next to nothing
      Life is hard

      My time
      Is next to nothing
      My time
      Falls on you, yeah
      Everything
      Is in motion
      Life is hard

      My time
      Falls on you, yeah
      Life is hard
      Life is hard

      – J. Mellencamp – while on the planet earth.

      ok. life is also beautiful. – 1da

      it’s a cruel crazy beautiful world – J. Clegg – also while on the planet earth.

      stars flickering in the fading twilight. the silence of a light breeze as pine boughs begin to whisper. the ache of tall trees swaying in the night with a moan like countless masts on the tall ships of a planet. blink. and i sleep.

      #985

      The door of the garage opened with a creaking sound, and Madame Chesterhope sped up into the gritty alley.
      In that dimension where she had hidden her command base, people were a bit sloppy about roads and tarmac, so she had designed a little modification on her machines to be able to levitate in some of the less practical areas; but she had to admit,… she loved the vibrations and bumps that the motorbike created with the friction of the ground surface.
      She started to giggle, all enthusiastic about the speed and the wind in her hair, that she ignored the road sign indicating that the road was flooded some miles ahead. The rain had been pouring cabbages all past hexades, so much so that her leather suit was in all honesty the best thing she could have worn, not to mention the fact of course, that it was making her totally sexy.
      Two peasants were coming her way, looking at her with wild eyes like they had just seen something otherworldly. Ahahah she laughed, the fools would soon have forgotten everything about it (another handy and sly magical modification she nodded to herself). Looking in her rear mirror, she could still see them wiggle their hands in a frenzy… What the fl…!

      :fleuron:

      On the road, the two peasants wondered what in the name of Shaint Lejus was that rider… But worse, it was heading straight to the pool that the swollen river had made recently, outpouring on fields and little sniggly and thorny paths, like this one. Making desperate signs to be seen and warn it, they watched in horror the black podgy thing with flabby flapping schpurniatz arms sink straight to the bottom of the pool.

      :fleuron:

      The landing was a bit bumpy, but she found her balance quickly. Those transdimensional puddles were a bit rough to get accustomed to, but once you knew how to manipulate it, you couldn’t forget it.
      Now, all she needed to got to the location she was heading to was to hop through a few more transdimensional puddles.
      Actually, all sorts of puddles could do the job, water puddles, even oil puddles… or run-over poodle puddles for that matter. She preferred water ones, for the quality of water was very fluid, and allowed for easier defocusing. Lately she had tried transdimensional exhaust fumes clouddles, but that was a bit disorienting more than helping.
      As far as she could tell, this first one had been projecting her to a dimension in between Earth and the Duane. Incorporating vibrational qualities of the two, with a little more rigidity though. The machine needed a little time to stabilize and get prepared for the next transdimensional jump.
      As far as she could tell, she was in a place that was not unlike her birthplace, in the countryside of England. There were occasionally some giveaways that she still wasn’t quite there yet, like an erratic flying schpurniatz, but she was close now.
      A few meters in front of her, she could see a lovely puddle that could do for the next jump. A bit small for her… well, motorbike, what were you thinking… but that would probably do it. She took another breath, then pushed the TDPP (Trans-Dimensional Puddle Propeller) button.

      :fleuron:

      Flof-flof-flof-flof…
      Bugger, bugger…. What the bloody heck!

      Straw was flying all over her hair, and obfuscating her vision… Darn last puddle had to much mud in it, and her concentration went off for a split second, heading her towards a field of barley.
      Turning round and round for a moment in complete disorientation, she finally pushed the levitation button to take a little altitude.
      Oh, now,… at least she could tell she was in England, because she knew that place.
      How perfect! She could now just move into the dimension to the Pacific island. The GPS included in the modern expensive motorbike had been bipping as soon as it had found again the satellites, and it was now pointing the direction.
      Giggling again, she pushed a new button and disappeared into the sky in a supersonic puff of smoke.

      :fleuron:

      a few days later, Chestershire, UK

      AFP - 2008-07-21 - An new amazing design has been reported by eye-witnesses
      on a crop of barley of a local farmer along with reports of strange booming sounds
      and orbs of light. A sight to behold, the delicate intricacy of these interwoven
      patterns is believed by many to be the work of the Crop-circle Makers, some
      alien intelligence desiring to communicate with us. The theme of this crop-circle
      is thought to be a variation on planet Venus cycles, and would be highlighting
      the number of cycles lefts until the notorious end-date of Mayan calendar,
      Dec. 21st 2012. Scientists have brushed off the allegations of elderly pranksters,
      as this one seemed to have required levels of astronomical knowledge far beyond
      human intelligence.
      #970

      When Veranassessee entered the room, looking for the guests, she was startled to discover the awful mess.

      At first, she thought the cyclone Ycart may have been doing the wreckage, but soon she found out that no wall was gone, so it was obviously coming from inside the facility.

      What the…

      The super-calculator computer had been torn apart, and the electronic insides spread out everywhere.
      The Confregration would be furious that all was left of their precious asset they entrusted the mad (mmm, mentally challenged) doctor to carry out his insane (err… unusual) experiments was a big pile of unworkable chunks.
      She was thinking of how she could cover up that mess… given that the doctor was still probably reeling in frilly suspenders and silky dresses, she had time to clean up a bit. The Doc would probably won’t notice a difference, as megalomaniac as he was, he wouldn’t admit that a great part of his strides in his researches on spider genome were coming from the super-calculator…
      That nose of a b… nurse Bellamy was probably cleaning up his drool, so she might have enough time to act.

      Pushing aside a few coconuts, Veranassessee backed away suddenly…

      A trail of purple blood now?

      #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.

      #843

      The new colors of The Snoot were making Anita giggle a lot. Its liquid fur was iridescent and blazing rhythmically more and more intensely.
      Armelle was getting more and more irritated, with no reason at all, the owl :y_orly: was rolling her eyes furiously :yahoo_rolling_eyes:
      Yuki :bunny_head: was trying to keep track of the conversation because he thought it was going berserk and not leading anywhere, while Araili :cat_confused: seemed to be distracted by a dead :mouse: still moving its tail and Rafaela :goat: was talking limerick with a funny accent.

      Akita and Kay were arguing about some point of detail of how they had arrived here.

      The bunch of friends were not aware of what was approaching and how it was influencing them. Maybe the Snoot was, but the Snoot didn’t think it could be of use to warn them, they were far enough from the hole.

      #830
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Holy Moly, that was quite a ride! whispered a beaming Ella Marie, who had been enjoying herself immensely. The dinghy and its strange cargo drifted on the open sea, the storms passed and the ocean calm and moonlit.

        The floodwater currents had swept them along and Ella focused on avoiding obstacles like signposts, feeling exhilarated and alive with excitement.

        Oy, we’re in the Gulf of Mexico now! she cackled, Lordy, I wonder where we’ll end up.

        Elioctyl grinned.

        #2019

        In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          SITTING IN THE sun reading THE magic journal AFTER A walk, THE connection TO elikozoe AND CO WAS full IN MY MIND. I FELL Asleep quickly, must BE THE short NIGHTS ON earth. WOKE UP WITH A ParchED feeling AND felt LIKE A bride cleaning UP AFTER THE WEDDING. I noticed IT seemed LIKE A FASTliving week FOR THE sand aspects OF THE DRAGONS, SO I googled IT TO TRY AND sort IT OUT.

          #801

          The cold wind was blowing upon the marshes. The atmosphere was damp and dark with threatening gray clouds. A storm was approaching and Asiir was dreaming.

          Her dreams were so strong that they were triggering many emotions in her rider. Since their bonding seven years ago, their link had grown stronger and Lola wouldn’t think of shutting it down even in those uncomfortable moments. They were one.

          Lola was feeling a menace, some undefined threat coming with the storm, as if the storm was just the visible counterpart of what was preparing. In those moments, Lola couldn’t help but think of her family and her village… Her fist grasped tightly the grip of the sword she was holding.

          Everyone was killed when she was nine. Her dragon wasn’t fully developed at that time and couldn’t help her save her people. All Asiir could do was shield her from them as she was shielding herself, not even thinking of it.

          She sighed deeply, releasing the pressure of the storm and of the dreams. She’d learnt not to hold on the powerful emotional responses but to open herself as a channel of her dragon’s dreams. All she could do was let the energy flow through her. Was it Asiir creating the storm or the storm disturbing Asiir’s dreams? She wasn’t aware of the answer yet, but at times it had bothered her to think that her dragon could cause “bad things” to happen.

          A chilly breeze and a surge of electricity. She grinned impishly.
          It was the time of her lesson.

          You’re late master. she thought to the shadowy figure behind her. She was feeling something different that day in the presence. You’re not alone. I can feel a different energy with you today…

          The dragon growled in her agitated sleep.

          Your emotions are dragon drenched again, Lola. I know you consider it a proof of your connection with your beast, but it may be far more damaging than you think.

          Lola had felt a twinge at how Samira had called her friend, she was feeling her emotions rise dangerously to the point which she had learned she could not control herself. She had always wondered if Samira was seriously considering dragons as beasts or if she was teasing her, especially since she had let the connection develop in such a way.

          You’re going to have a new teacher…

          Lola’s heartbeat accelerated slightly, so slightly, but she could feel her mentor’s smile upon her interrogations. Was she leaving? She’d always dreaded such a moment. She felt the wry expression of Samira.

          I’m not going away… you need a training that I can’t give you. You need to learn how to ride properly over your bond and not get consumed by it, and Noraam can teach you that.

          A strange impression of connection with the new energy flew in her, making her feel quite uneasy. Such an intimacy was unusual with another human energy. Or was he human?

          A sudden surge of energy made her wince. She turned to her mentor and was surprised to only see Samira in her stout armor. She could feel the strength of the other energy but she couldn’t give him a form. She was feeling nudged gently from many directions at the same time and realized that she was afraid of loosing her bond with her friend. Wasn’t she trusting her bond? Another chill, and the rain started falling.

          You won’t really need all that Samira taught you during these last 4 years

          The inner voice was almost inaudible, but still she could feel it was not a voice and that the communication was going through another pathway. The vegetation of the marshes and few rocks were shifting to an unnatural yellow tint, and the faint glow around her teacher was growing in intensity. Actually, all the objects around her was beginning to glow, the limits of their shapes were collapsing.

          Lola was sill feeling the link with Asiir but it was thinning down in such an unfamiliar way.

          I’m going to help you remove the veils that Samira helped you put on your consciousness when you first met. But first you need to renew the link with yourself.

          She heard a vague sound of steel on the ground… had she lost her sword? She couldn’t feel her body. She couldn’t move as she was used to… but was it still something to move? The face of a man was forming in the energy patterns of the glowing clouds. Was he close or far away? Was he huge or of human size? Was she massive?

          A pounding sound in the distance of her inner ear… a familiar call but she was still so far.

          #782
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            And then Al said “I AM that I am”.

            Phew. Germaine was right, he could just let go of Becky’s feelings like this. That was quite a ride, and Al wasn’t sure he would do it again anytime soon. Perhaps with dolphins, there would be less vertigo…

            Last Tobi show yesterday had been running earlier with a stand-in for Tobi the ventriloquist. But Germaine the fortune teller with her crystal ball was good too.
            She had said, with a stern teacher look and her horn-rimmed glasses, to take a breathe, dive into the ball, and feel.

            Of course Tina, with all the courses she’d taken lately, was well aware of these, but Al was not very fond of diving too much into other’s feeling. He always found himself waddling in other’s muck. Had enough of his own.
            But now he had the magic words, or at least, the magic finger snapping movement.

            I AM that I am.

            Phew… That ride had been scarier and funnier than any scary tartignole movie.

            #744
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Just as Becky was retorting crossly to Al to please knock before remote viewing her, a clap of thunder made her jump (causing her dress to ride up alarmingly) and the heavens opened. Lashing rain soaked her to the skin, making the few threads of her dress become completely transparent.

              Becky moaned in disbelief. Well, she giggled, suddenly seeing the funny side. (She was connecting to the Kuzhebarian Laughing Monks). This is one Wet Tarty Nun that couldn’t get much wetter. I hope Elvira brings a towel.

              #739

              Vessie Darl, Sha and I are just popping down to the beach for some more of them special beauty sea waters you told us about.

              Great idea, Gloria, responded Veranassessee vaguely. She watched absent-mindedly as Gloria’s generous body, clad only in a skimpy red bikini, disappeared down the corridor. There was something about that shade of red tugging at her memory. Vermillion red …

              Red! PLAN B! Oh my God! how could she have forgotten!

              It was two days since she had called him, that meant he would be here soon, that did not leave her much time to prepare.

              :fleuron:

              Everything has to be perfect. She wears a silk vermillion red camisole, the one he gave her, scarcely covered by lush black velvet and topped with bright red lipstick. She casts her eyes critically around the room. It is nearly three years since she has seen him, she doesn’t want to spoil this moment. The glasses of soft red merlot are ready, a plate of miniature liqueur chocolates on a plate by the bed.

              She shakes out her long dark hair and looks in the mirror. Her chocolate skin glows, her eyes are bright. She will do. She touches the red silk camisole … it is still beyond her comprehension how she can have forgotten.

              When he arrives he is beautiful. Too beautiful. she thinks. It is so easy for him, effortless. He appraises the room and laughs casually, he knows how hard she has tried. Agent V he says, a pleasure to see you again. He kisses her. She remembers everything.

              He takes a sip of the wine. She watches him, unsure of herself. He has a black bag with him.

              He looks at her, sees her looking at the bag, and smiles slowly, I have something to show you, Agent V, he says, and she can sense his pride, the barely suppressed excitement in his voice.

              He opens the bag carefully, pulls out a small white box, handles it lovingly. Two years experimentation in the Russian lab, he says softly, delicate threads of spun blue bonnet spider silk and yet strong enough to hang a bridge on.

              He looks at her. Come here. he says

              She hesitates for just a moment thinking of Mahiliki, and then inwardly shrugs, bugger it, I never really wanted to live on Fukitupi island and have loads of babies anyway. She moves over to him. He takes the transparent silk and slowly starts to wind the delicate thread around her wrists. Try and break it, he whispers in her ear, kisses her neck.

              Then stops.

              My God, what the fuck is that?

              Veranassessee sighs.

              :fleuron:

              No I swear Sha, I am telling you, I saw him go into Vessie’s room.

              Oh my God Glor, he might be a murderer, or a bloody rapist even!

              I tell you though, he were right bloody gorgeous.

              Well never mind that! The door is locked Sha. I think we’d better shout out. Make sure she’s okay.

              Right, good idea. And then if she doesn’t answer we can bash the door in and we can both pounce on him.

              Right, on the count of three Glor, we’‘ll shout out, one… two… THREE!”

              #736
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                What’s that, slow down Felicity I can’t understand what you are saying!

                Felicity took a deep breath. I am so sorry Tina, there has been a dreadful mix-up with the dresses. The dress that arrived for Becky was meant for another wedding.

                Oh right, said Tina, well I was a little surprised when I saw it, but then, I have no idea what russian wedding dresses look like.

                Oh yes I am so sorry, it is a terrible mix-up. Yes that dress was meant for a … well the bride was going to arrive in a huge wedding cake and then pop out the top . Oh Tina we worked weeks on it … and isn’t the dress just luscious! pure silk it is … and we had a ladder purpose built and the groom was going to climb up beside her and say their vows on top of the wedding cake on a revolving pedestal .. and somehow the dresses got mixed up … I am so sorry. Her voice trailed off.

                Tina, making a valiant attempt to contain her laughter, tried to reassure the distraught Felicity … well I am not sure if Becky even have noticed her dress, she was quite preoccupied with applying peachy glow mineral cosmetics when I last saw her. She has some unfortunate splotches on her face, an allergy to red fruit I think.

                Oh that poor sweetheart, gushed Felicity sympathetically. Oh I wish I could give her a big hug! She is such a sensitive one, I didn’t want to bother her, that’s why I am ringing you Tina. You are always so calm and sensible. What shall we do?

                Well to tell you the truth Felicity, I have been trying to contact Becky for the last hour, I can’t get through to her number.

                #725
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  After a long but uneventful ride in the yellow gondola cab, Becky stepped out onto terra firma and strolled through the park.

                  Various fleeting images of the wedding party flashed through her mind, and she recalled the change in Elvira after the meal. She certainly tucked into that reindeer stew, Becky mused, Had a right good scoff, she did. Funny, anyone eating four helpings of that slop would be expected to slump in a chair for an hour or two, but Elvira had sprung into life. She looked pretty good for 121 years old, but who would have guessed what a splendid dancer she was! She put the younger guests to shame with her fancy steps, and tireless enthusiasm.

                  And not only that, she’d really come into her own when the drunken fights started, fearlessly breaking up fights between men twice her size.

                  #2002

                  In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    THIS IS THE sort OF fact THAT means ENERGY sent must BE FROM Tracy AND HER creatures TO Eschraiel, THAT MUCH IS clear. SO often THE answer FOR THE boy suddenly APPEARS IN energy, once THE goat AND THE Russian mouse AND THE bride fly IN.

                    #720

                    As the bride and groom were exchanging the rings, Al was brought back a few weeks earlier, when Becky had announced the little group she and Sean would get married. The initial excitement gone, Tina, Sam and Al had been given the honor to organize that very special day, while Becky surely wouldn’t care to be bothered by such petty things.

                    I think she’s already getting that distinguished snobbish style of the Wricks muttered Tina who was not so fond of being handed down these kinds of unprompted crottes.
                    Al, who was probably thinking as much managed a Don’t be so hard on her, that’ll be a mighty fine wedding, after all, marrying a Wrick has its advantages, we don’t have to be measly on the expenditures
                    Sam, a bit lost in circles, had acknowledged.

                    Well, that had been fun after all, at least Al was thinking, he had not needed to deal with Becky’s own mood fluctuations. As the only Sumafi of the group, he had willingly taken care of the list of the guests, and all the catering orders, while Tina was taking care of the decoration (bride included), and Sam was arranging for the organization and rental of the places and hotels for the wedding and its slew of guests.

                    Of course, as intimate Becky had first required the wedding to be, she had soon changed her mind, and had not resisted long the temptation to gather lots of people she had almost forgotten over the years.
                    Al could almost see clear as day — now the weather had brighten up a bit — in his mind his notepad full of Becky’s recommendations:

                    Becky’s family and friends
                    Sam, Tina & Al (of course)
                    Sabine Baina (mother) and Patel Mahapushtra, her new husband (a child’s toys mogul)
                    Dan (father) and Dory (step-mother; might fear a trip to New Venice, you’ll have to use some extra coaxing with her)

                    [long list of friends, snipped for reader’s comfort]

                    Sean’s family and friends
                    (mother deceased, father unwilling to come, pretexting his rheumatisms and not being able travel so far, but most likely unwilling to see Sean)
                    Sean’s children, Perry and Guiny
                    (aunt and cousin, Deirdre and Dorean Wrick) — Al’s update: they have unexpected guests coming back from Russia at their home, wonder if they could come? Becky: Sure!… Mmmm, Russia you said?

                    Now, finding some great gift for someone as easily distracted as Becky, and as spoiled as Sean was another ball of wax…

                    #717
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Becky, Becky, wake up… Lordy, she’s really in denial, you’re right sweet pea…
                      We’ve got to rush now, all the people are already arrived now, and we’ve got to go to the civil ceremony now
                      Yes, yes, we’ve got plenty of rice for you Becky
                      What? Yes, I suppose she ate those mushrooms that were in the blue mud package. They were only supposed to be rehydrated and applied on the face, not eaten… Now she’ll be delirious for quite some hours…
                      Peregrine, Guinevere, kids, yes, take that dress, and take good care of the bride herself, she’s not much on her two feet today…

                      Al was doing his best to apply all the self-centering techniques he knew and not let things get awry now… Glad he had Tina to help, her practical senses sharp as ever.

                      #1898
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

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

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

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

                        #696
                        Jib
                        Participant

                          Georges and Salome’s journal

                          From Georges’ account of his first encounter with Shu Lom Agamon. Part II

                          We first met in a series of dreams. I realized we were planning that even before we objectively took our decision with Salome to travel to this dimension, since in the dreams I was recalling previous encounters with him. Shu-Lom was a focus of Blöhmul, and Blöhmul was in many ways connected to this particular travel.

                          In the dreams we were meeting in a sort of semi spherical place, surrounded by 12 gates. The floor was composed of several materials, and the pattern was quite similar to the portal we used to travel to this dimension though a bit different as it included other aspect-tiles of the Jorid.

                          One of them was the diapason, vibrating between them both, and the compass was imprinted on the spherical ceiling, moving slowly like a starry night sky. The central triangle was showing some blended colorful energy patterns, changing with the orientation of their discussion.

                          — Each gate is connected with the others, was saying the Guardian, and you can use them to go wherever you want on the 3 planets. We created their physical manifestations, though they are not physical in the first place. The twelve gates are our representation of our own essence families in this dimension. I can tell you the names by which we call them if you want…

                          My silent acquiescing was enough, and as he was telling me the names, each corresponding gate was activated until they were all illuminating the room with their iridescent colors.

                          Part III

                          #689
                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            These are MY eggs! Nobody touches my eggs!
                            Oh come on, you’re not gonna make these ostrich eggs hatch Cathy… Better have them made into a nice big omelet for our guests… Fleur said with a tentative smile.
                            And why use MY eggs for that?! Moooom, she’s trying to steal my eggs…

                            What’s with all that fuss here? a coarse, yet sensual female voice said in the background of the kitchen.
                            Mom, she wants to make an omelet with the eggs that granddad gave me…
                            Calm down Catherine, will you… Is that true Fleur?
                            Err… Madam Wrick, I suppose it was only a stupid joke… Thing is that wasn’t such a bad idea… There will be quite a few guests tonight, and… she began to falter as the eyebrows of Dorean Wrick were taking a more severe look. Err… I’m sorry, M’am, I’ll send Raster fetch some food for a nice meat pie, will it be nice?
                            Perfect. That settles the matter then… Catherine, go back to your room, and let Fleur work. I’ll send you a maid to help you be prepared for our guests arrival.
                            Yes, Mum.

                            What a silly idea Theobald, her father have had, to give her step-daughter those eggs for her birthday… Big funny green eggs. He’d said they were ostrich eggs, but there were no ostrich in Mexico, as far as she knew. Of course, now the little girl’s only idea was to have the birds hatch and to mount them and ride in the slopes of Ireland.
                            This family was definitely insane, Dorean was thinking.
                            At least, she had thought her own branch of the family tree had been spared by the folly of her relatives and their attraction for occult and intangible things, but with that odd gift, it seemed to her more than likely that her father had followed the steps of his wricked brother… Or perhaps it was only an old man’s way of passing time. But knowing her father down-to-earth nature, that was not like him. He didn’t do things out of a whim, and there was probably more than met the eye having to do with the funny eggs…

                            A few days ago, shortly after New Year’s eve and stepping into year 2034, she’d had received an unexpected parcel from her cousin, Sean Doran. A couple of wrapped books, he was asking her to keep in store for him. She always had liked her cousin, though they had only met two or three times when they were children. Thing was, family matters were more a wrickage than anything else, and they had barely kept in touch over the years.
                            She had distractedly opened the big ornate leather-bound books only to discover they were blank. What was the purpose of all of this, she didn’t know. But unlike most people, Dorean wasn’t interested in others’ businesses. She would keep the books, whatever they meant.

                            And she had more pressing matters now.
                            Her guest were coming. Elvira and her demented husband were moving back, and were due to arrive tonight after a rather long expatriation in the lands of Russia. Having met that strange and impressive individual, the perspective of getting away in a foreign land leaving all the past behind, all of this had most probably saved Elvira from her depressive mood…
                            But she had been so isolated from her past that Dorean suspected that these almost thirty years abroad would have changed her profoundly.

                            #681
                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              New Venice, February 2034

                              Al had finally completed his body experiments. The results were encouraging, and would probably help understand more of some bodily processes.
                              Obviously he’d had some fun with them, these past few years —it was a nice way to learn more about himself, and to bring some of that knowledge to other people. Essentially, it was mostly to show them that what centuries of so-called “modern medicine” had done was to make them defiant of their own bodies. The mass creations of all these diseases not so long ago was still very much embedded into people’s imaginations. How ironic was that most of these diseases were coming from the body itself.
                              So, what Albert was doing in his experiments was to push the limits to show how greatly adaptive the body structure was. It was nothing different than what scientists of the last decennia were doing on laboratory rats with many uncouth cocktails of injections —except that the trigger was for the most part an internal projection, no needing great amounts of artificial adjuncts.
                              Becky’s sudden and impressive illnesses, shortly before her wedding had not worried him too much, because he knew that at times the body needed to adapt to new settings and environments, albeit not always physical ones.
                              Another thing he knew well enough for having experienced it was that distrust was the most difficult part during this adjustment process. Distrust of the body, of self and of course of others. It was a delicate subject and most of their ancestors way of tackling the subject had been to reinforce the distrust in one’s own body. Pills and antibiotics could do wonders, but they were not that innocuous when they were used as ways to tell one’s own body it was not behaving the way it was supposed to be. As far as the symptoms were sometimes elusive, their physical effects could be quite unpredictable, depending on the patient’s state of mind.

                              That reality play they were all writing to record their various connections has always been great fun. They had been toying with the idea of great changes, new frontiers of the mind and spirit and expansion of their consciousnesses.
                              It had started during Becky’s infancy, were she was inspired by her step-mother and a bunch of her friends who were doing all kind of meditations and strange “imaginary” stuff. And two years ago, she had found old digital archives and had been amazed at some of the changes that had occurred during so few of the past years of her own existence, much of them mirroring these “imagined” changes.
                              So, she had enlisted Sam, and Al and Tina to join in that reality play, to continue the projection into that “Shift” of the mind and see how farther it would take them.

                              But there was something that Albert had always found a bit far-fetched was Becky’s confidence in such strides in their expansion of the mind. Doubtlessly he was acknowledging that things were changing —the last discoveries in how magnetic fields affected DNA and thus the bodies had been even compelling enough to have scientists reassess their stance on how DNA and evolution of species worked. But he doubted that everything would be a perfect utopia. And pain was such an inherent and useful part of their human experience that he was not conceiving how any consciousness expansion would get rid of it.

                              So, back to Becky’s illnesses which were mirroring his owns, a great deal of them was also about accepting that pain not as a flaw in the way they were creating their reality, but as something real, useful as a mechanism of feed-back. Accepting it didn’t meant cherishing it and holding dearly to it, it merely meant they had to recognize it as a way of the body to bring back the diverted awareness into the body. Well, Al wasn’t sure it would always be necessary to have it, but for the moment, the species was not entirely accustomed to being present into the body. Perhaps when it learns that, pain wouldn’t be necessary…
                              To reassure Becky, he had reminded her of how as a child she had grown teeth, and that had been perhaps one of the weirdest most disturbing and painful experience children experience in relation to their bodies, but her parents had been telling her all along it was just growing. She just had to trust her body knew better. Or like Krustis the clown was saying, it sure won’t help a man if he notices a thumping sound in his chest to have it stop…

                              Well, in a few days time, it would be Chinese New Year. The large Chinese population of New Venice made it a very loved holiday, and Becky and Sean had decided to wed on that day, February 19 th where they would all step into the year of the Tiger.

                              How funny, Al was thinking, leaning over the railing of the balcony, looking at the sunset reflecting over the waters… These funny people that Becky had known in her infancy, the original FGF, they had seen New York under waters in their meditations… And that yellow car…
                              They had discussed a lot about this event, and some had been disquieted by that fact, fearing some impeding catastrophe. But all in all it had been a smooth occurrence. Authorities had been aware of the issue, and though they did not yet know all the mechanisms at play, they had been preparing some measures to avoid the city being flooded.
                              There had been lots of debates, as most politicians were advocating of building of dams to prevent the rising sea levels to enter the city.
                              But the studies of Dutch experts had been the most convincing, and New York City official soon decided to follow the example of the implementation in Netherlands of moving and adapting structures, constructions of buildings and plains liable to be flooded, and even buildings and roads construction on stilts structures, which Dutch had come over time to prefer to the dams, no matter how technically efficient…
                              Another imagery of adapting structures with the flow…

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