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  • #1190
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Dory, there’s no asparagus, can we go and buy some?”

      “Asparagus? Whatever for?” replied a frantic looking Dory, almost hidden behind arms full of pillows and quilts.

      “For Will Tarkin, Mac said he likes asparagus” young Becky replied.

      “Who the bloody hell is Will Tarkin? I’ve got enough to cope with trying to get ready for Granny Hill!” Dory sounded uncharacteristically flustered and impatient, and Becky recoiled slightly from the sparky energy.

      Will Tarkin is the mouse, DoryBecky said in a tone that suggested it was inconceivable to have forgotten who Will Tarkin was.

      “Will bloody Tarkin is getting a bit too big for his boots!” snapped Dory. “He’ll be wanting caviar next! I’ve got a time travelling mouse camped up behind my microwave, and Granny Hill’s frightened to death of mice; the room she was going to stay in is full of baby geckos, and you know how scared she is of lizards, not to mention the dead rat that was outside a moment ago, appearing from nowhere, and now I’m trying to get Peppy’s house across the road ready so Granny Hill can stay there instead, and none of the bedding has been washed and it’s still raining, and now you want me to take you shopping for asparagus for a MOUSE! And not only that, there are dead rhino beetles all up Peppy’s driveway, I can’t imagine why, and I’d be willing to bet that Granny Hill is afraid of rhino beetles too, so I suppose I’ll have to sweep up rhino beetles today too, as if I haven’t got enough to do cleaning up dead rats and baby geckos. Granny Hill is afraid of gas heaters too, so I’ll have to take an electric one over to Peppy’s”

      “Granny Hill sure is afraid of a lot of things, Dory. Why is she scared of everything?”

      “Good question, sweetheart” replied Dory, relaxing her energy as she brought her attention back to the moment. “She’s one of the old ones, from the Victim Mentality Days and the Age of Medical Suggestibility. They’re always afraid of everything, and Granny Hill’s a good example. Afraid of her money in case she can’t keep control of it, afraid of her car for the same reason, afraid of the food she eats in case it contains hidden poisons and afraid of the hospitals in case they’re dirty and dangerous. She’s afraid of strangers in case they have knives and stab her, even though in all her life she’s never seen a person threaten anyone with a knife, she’s even afraid of people in other countries, just in case they come and drop a bomb on her.”

      “She must enjoy being scared, then, mustn’t she?” asked Becky. “Otherwise she wouldn’t do it. Doesn’t she realize she’s creating her reality herself?”

      “Well, that was the trouble in the old days, honey, they didn’t know that back then. There’s a lot of people who still don’t know it now”

      “Wow, really?” Becky said incredulously. “That must be weirdo!”

      Dory had to laugh. “Believe it or not, neither did I for years. I keep forgetting it even now! Some of us used to say things like ‘think positive’ which wasn’t far off the mark, or ‘behind every cloud is a silver lining’, or ‘this too will pass’, that was always a good one for when you felt like it was all out of control. Alot of people prayed to gods too, thinking that their life was in the hands of the gods. I never knew much about praying myself though, we didn’t do that in our family, but it was very popular.”

      “Maybe they were asking their own essence to help, that would make sense” replied Becky astutely. “Praying probably helped.”

      “Yeah it probably did but there was alot of baggage that went along with praying, it wasn’t something you could do on your own in your own way, you had to go to a certain building to do it, and say certain words, even wear certain clothes and eat certain things. It was all very complicated, didn’t really work out in the end. The funny thing was, they were always fighting with people who prayed differently in different special buildings and who ate different special things and wore different special clothes, it was bizarre really.”

      “Who is Granny Hill anyway, and why is she coming to stay?” Becky was bored with the way the conversation was going, and curious about Granny Hill who came to stay every so often, and always seemed to rattle Dory. “Whose granny is she?”

      “Buggered if I know really, BeckyDory replied. “Every family has one, I don’t know where they come from, they sort of just appear every so often and want to come and stay for a while.”

      #1174

      Balbina had had a quite difficult week. Feeling cold, having trouble to find sleep, not even speaking of being unable to do the kind of out-of-body travel she had managed to do last time.
      She was almost starting to doubt she could redo it again.

      Of course, the relocation at her son’s cottage was a source of much change in her habits, and although he wasn’t at home most of time, she wasn’t really feeling like she was ‘at home’. Strangest thing really, as for the time she was at the hospice she wasn’t feeling as much an alien as in this cottage. At least, at the hospice, she was in a sort of neutral environment, some place where she wasn’t undesirable (would it be asking for too much to actually be desirable at her age?). Here, the environment wasn’t neutral at all; everywhere everything reminded her of her son: his books, the posters, even the dust on the coffee table was almost looking as though it was his own.

      So she had to adjust. Contort her energy to fit —to crumple herself!— into this place, as it would be likely she would spend quite some time here. She wasn’t asking for much really, as she wasn’t able to move from the bed he’d had installed in the spare room. Ghastly room, with a creepy wallpaper from a has-been era of the past days, year 2000 or close she’d guess, gaudy as it was… oriented to the south, with hardly bearable heat during the day. She would have loved to see the coast on the north, but instead, the only window was showing her the shade of the trees, and that ominous alligator-green mountain just behind.

      If she couldn’t project in her dreams as she managed to do before, she would soon either die of boredom or of heat. She wasn’t too sure which one would be the most painless and efficient.

      She pushed the button to have her bed roll a little closer to the window; once straightened up a bit, she was able to see the passageway to the mountain. She couldn’t explain why she didn’t like this mountain; it was quite beautiful; perhaps she feared to be lost and abandoned. All the more since she could feel so much presence in this environment. Unseen presence, and trickster ones too.

      She was tired, and yawned so much her tense jaw’s muscles ached.

      On the emerald path to the forest, a moving teal wisp of light caught her attention. Funny plays of light at this hour of the day. But the wisp was persistent, and it started to move towards her.

      “Good day Balbina!”

      The crazy rabbit was back again. And… she was sleeping? In or out?

      “In or out, smell my foot, it’s your choice, and matters not
      but be quick, and come forth, for Anita and her folks this wicked way come!”

      “The tune is set, the tunnel is close
      Of playfulness you’ll need a hefty dose”

      #1167
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        a hotel room in Auckland, New Zealand

        Veranassesee closed her report silently.

        What a mess it all had been. Given the circumstances, she had acted with unbelievable self-possessed strength and wit.
        She had little doubt she would be fired though. The Confregation wasn’t exactly known for their blanket acceptance of excuses for people’s short-failures —or worse, for their lack of accepting their own responsibility. Quite the contrary.
        She would be expected to resign, and even the smoldering hot and sexy Agent Gabriele’s intercession wouldn’t be seen with a complaisant eye.

        “No matter…” She had managed to keep everyone she could out of trouble or certain death, and for that she was quite proud of herself. Even if her job was most of the time to actually make sure they would meet their death more quickly. Perhaps she was getting too soft for that job.

        The phone rang abruptly cutting her off her trail of thoughts.

        “Yes?” (…) “Mmmhhh mmmh” (…) “Okay. Fine. Thank you.”

        She would be presenting her report’s conclusions at the hearing tomorrow, and then would be free to go. Start a new life maybe; or get back to Mahiliki who was for now confined with the aircraft’s pilot in one of the Confregation’s detention centers for interrogation. They’d say it wouldn’t be long; they wanted to make sure no crucial information had leaked.
        She couldn’t really pity Mahiliki; he was cute… harmless in many ways; she was sure he would be out in a matter of days,… and unsurprisingly get back to his peasant’s life on Fikitupi.

        As for herself… that may be a whole other story.

        #1150

        Dory was often reminding herself (and anyone within hearing or blogging distance in the process) of one of her favourite catch-phrases: what you are looking for is probably right under your nose.
        It seemed of particular relevance these days, Yurick was noticing, for a variety of reasons.

        First, his glasses needed some dusting… He’d have to finish that monologue later then.

        :fleuron:

        What was he about then? Yes. The tillandsias near the window. Last week-end, they’d been to a crystal store with Yann, and mildly interested by crystals, Yurick had been wondering loudly at the heaps of strange plants in the middle of the paraphernalia of rocks, shells and starfishes. The store owner had proceeded to explain those were aerial plants, known for gathering the elements of their sustenance out of the air.
        The curiosity would probably have ended with those quick answers, had the guy not not given them on an impulse two little specimens just when they were about to go with Yann’s newly acquired amethysts.
        :raw-crystal:

        Cute. New plants to interact with. Yurick had to say he preferred plants to rocks. Yann for his part had found them funny names. “Sha” for the witchy hairy one, and “Glo” for the pineapple-looking one. Why not…

        The tilland… Well, “Sha” and “Glo” (you had to give credit to Yann for granting the reader a good respite from long unpleasant names) had been there in the bathroom for a few days, and only now had Yurick found some interest in investigating more about them.
        The capacity they had to live apparently without any strings attached was very appealing to him, and it was like a symbol of focusing on one’s own vitality, and finding the means to live out of that elusive “new energy”; of not feeding off something outside of self.

        Now, he was finding even more interesting facts; a picture that Yann had taken of a blooming plant recently was of the same genus of plants, and it reminded Yurick of plants which had fascinated him in a botanical garden, that were also from this species.
        Interestingly, he found out that the plants were named after a Finnish botanist (Elias Tillandz )… He couldn’t help but notice the similarities with another focus of his: Elias Lönnrot.

        The string of clues suddenly filling up the previously empty corridors of his mind were sparkling a renewed interest for focus hunting.

        #1146

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

        Leonora read from Bea’s Dream Journal:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

        “Maybe it was a baby dragon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

        “Pffft” said Bea.

        “More coffee?”

        #1143
        Jib
        Participant

          Al and Sam were waiting silently at the Yukaili airline terminal… the departure of their flight was in an hour and they decided to play with Tina and Becky 2 who were making egg sculptures in a white room.

          They were sending them energy suggestions to move their hands and the tools in certain ways in order to influence the result.
          Tina and Becky being very focused on their tasks were not necessarily aware of the meddling of their friends and at times were swearing like … I prefer not to tell.

          The end result was an watermegglon on Becky’s side and an a vegemegg from Tina’s side.

          Both were contemplating their creation with awe and wonder… sparkles in their eyes.

          :creating_magic:

          #1135

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

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

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

          “Oh. Okay then. Let’s go…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          #1132
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Dory finished the puzzle, yawned and glanced at her watch. There was no sign of the flight to Long Pong leaving any time soon, so she made her flightbag into a pillow and settled herself along the plastic seating for a nap.

            She dreamed first of her grandparents in their old house in Slurbridge. The house was the same, but her grandparents, Florence and Samuel, were much younger than she had ever known them during her lifetime. They were preparing for guests, and Florence was rearranging the bedding in the upstairs bedrooms. Apparently one more guest was expected than previously arranged, and she had squeezed in a single camp bed next to a double bed. Dory had an idea the camp bed was for Dan’s niece, Aurelia. Funny that, as Florence and Samuel had never known Aurelia ~ or Dan for that matter.

            The dream landscape changed then to an island. The “Others” were coming and she and her friends had to hide. “Let’s hide in the pyramid” one of them had said, but Dory replied “No, we must hide somewhere less obvious, until we know what the “Others” are like.” They weren’t afraid, but they were taking precautions. Someone had been looking after the dogs and cats, but when Dory went to check on them, they had been ‘kept safe’ in a freezer. As Dory opened the door, a half frozen black cat emerged and ran off. “I reckon she’s better off taking her chances out there than in the freezer!” said Dory. At the bottom of the freezer were some frozen parts of Tom, Captain Bone. There was no sign of the others, but strangely, Dory wasn’t worried.

            Next to the freezer was a cupboard, and Dory grabbed a handful of magnetic fridge letters, thinking that they would come in handy as clues while they were hiding from the “Others”.

            “Yukailli Airlines direct flight leaving for Tikfijikoo Island at Gate 57 and three quarters” the bag lady prodded Dory, amidst a shower of electric blue sparks. “Wake up!”

            #1118

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

            :fleuron:

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

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

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

            :fleuron:

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

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

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

            She laughed at the idea of Mandrake tormented by Yikesy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            #1108

            “Nice cuppa, Norm, what kind is it? Doesn’t taste like Typhoo” asked Sue.

            “Oh, it’s a herbal one I think, let me see” said Norm, rummaging in the bin for the wrapper. “Never seem to get a cup of ordinary tea these days, it’s all herbal stuff. Here it is: Siberian Watermelon and Mushroom”.

            “Tastes quite nice” replied Sue, holding her cup out for a refill.

            #1061
            Jib
            Participant

              She had been taken to her room by a handsome young Russian after the onboard doctor, who was quite handsome too, had examined her. She had the vague impression she was turning a tad nymphomaniac. She chuckled and she stopped as soon as she realized she sounded like an old goose. No she would not loose her dignity. But she needed to release her tensions.

              The doctor had told her she was lucky they came at that very moment, but kept quiet after that. That she was aware of, but she couldn’t get more out of him and she was too tired to use her other tricks on him.
              Better rest a moment; she was confident she’d be kept up to date soon enough by Pavel.

              How strongly she was despising him…
              She didn’t know it was possible before their first encounter in Paris, years ago. :yahoo_thinking:
              Mixed feelings filled up those memories… :yahoo_angry: :yahoo_love_struck: it was also at the same time she’d met Georges, the Dandy as he liked to be called then. What a pair of thieves they were… When was it? 1852? 1853? She wasn’t sure…

              Her first mistake was to ask them to retrieve that stone from the antique store for her… Of course she hadn’t told them what she was looking for… she only asked them to steal everything in the shop! Still, they didn’t bring it back from the shop though she was positive the sunstone was there… they told her that was all they found; Georges seemed so sincere that she wouldn’t have thought he would double her and keep the stone… and much less use it. Soon enough… yes soon enough she realized she had been deceived.

              Her second mistake was to offer them an arrangement… but that’s another story. She was not as wary as she was now.

              She sighed. :yahoo_sigh:

              Nothing interesting to steal in that room. Just raw blankets and a plain wooden chair… she wouldn’t have expected more from Pavel. Always keeping the best for himself and not quite as chivalrous as the Dandy. Pavel… How did they call him back then? She couldn’t or wouldn’t recall it… something like the Monk… the Monkey would have better suited him, she thought bitterly.

              But now; she had no time to loose in dim memories.
              She had to plan her escape.

              knock knock

              It only took her a few seconds to compose herself.

              — Come on in.

              #2134

              In reply to: Snooteries

              Jib
              Participant

                Snoot says One have to let go of the shit in order to have room for more food :frog:

                #1056
                Jib
                Participant

                  Sam wanted to see by himself. He had suddenly remembered what Becky had told them once about a pet shop with a nine-tailed glowing fox. He hadn’t paid attention at the moment, but this was somewhat reappearing in his dreams lately. One of his focuses was the link, and he was seeing his face more and more looking directly at him.
                  He usually wasn’t speaking with his other selves, he was rather directly exchanging energy with them. At first it had been a bit awkward, practicing with telepathy and conversing with his friends was his main focus of interest. But once he was aware of how he could do that more easily and more efficiently, his attention wandered to other means of communication.
                  Eschraiel was currently nudging him, and his animal form was quite intriguing. Especially since there were those kind of animals living now!
                  He had arrived at the shop without really paying attention. He was following his guts to lead him exactly where he wanted.
                  Being soft, in the kind of mode of processing he was in currently, the people around were like objects around merged with his environment, nothing standing out. Except maybe that woman in front of the big parrot cage… no, not the woman but the color of her gown, a deep indigo, vibrant and shiny. She turned her smiling face in his direction, but it was like Eschraiel’s energy superimposed on hers. He smiled back at her and continued to the rear of the shop.

                  The creatures were in a dark room, their fur glowing with rusty and fiery shades. Apparently very engrossed in chasing each others tails… they had quite a lot to keep them busy. The little ones especially were jumping heartily on the older ones. Challenging them to retaliate… but getting apparently no response from them except a few grunts.

                  :fleuron:

                  No particular feeling at first.

                  :fleuron:

                  One of the little ones, maybe…

                  :fleuron:

                  This one. One of the older ones. A male. He was looking at him now, as aware of Sam’s energy as Sam was aware of his.
                  He yelped a few times, standing like an Egyptian Sphinx.

                  :fleuron:

                  In no time, Sam was out with his nine-tailed glowing fox
                  He’s so still, thought Sam.
                  How would I name you? he thought, directing the energy to the creature.

                  He opened his mouth and let his tongue out in such a way, it was like he was grinning and challenging him. Sam laughed and thought to the fox : So I have to play the impression game with you then.
                  Maybe… I can call you Sam actually :))
                  One bark was enough of an answer.
                  So Sam it is!
                  Another bark.
                  I have to introduce you to my friends now… I don’t know why, but I have the feeling Al will love you

                  #1039
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Fumbling through the huge pile of paper, Elizabeth cried in anguish “it’s oowful, there’s too much stuff in those jumbled foolders!

                    Her cry had made some of the tiny goats faint and as she started to look around, she found herself in the middle of what looked like a battlefield from the Rooman times, with Robert the magpie dancing gleefully on goats all four legs in the air.:goat: :yahoo_silly: :yahoo_sleepy:

                    Nervously, she reached for her cigarettes, only to send the pack flying in the trash with her chaotic movements. “booger, booger!”. As she went crawling under the desk, she saw that tooday’s newspaper had a chubby statue on the front page ( Oostrians fete voluptuoos, prehistoric Venoos ).
                    “What’s that? She looks familiar that one” thought Elizabeth, the form of the statue vaguely reminding her to go check with her aesthetic surgeon if any more work needed to be done since the last time, three weeks ago.

                    And now, look at that, it’s almost like in dear Harry Pooh’ter
                    That Venoos is made from oolitic stone (meaning egg stone)… “ :yahoo_thinking:

                    But seeing the cinders of her freshly lit cigarette were almost lighting up a fire from her notes, she almost forgot to put that new thing in her clooh box.

                    #2149

                    In reply to: The Story So Far

                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Tikfijikoo Island (continued)

                      (synopsis)

                      It starts with the Dr doing some evil tests on that remote island; he’s with the nurse Bellamy, whose forte is coconut tree frog-leaping, and Veranessesseesessesses with her impossible name (V’ass)
                      We then learn the Dr is mad, and his researches are financed by an occult organization, who V’ass is working for, to check on their assets; he’s mad but brilliant.

                      He’s a bit of a transvestite too (fullname Chris Bronklehampton)
                      The organization has given him a machine in which there is a crystal skull, unknown to him. This crystal skull seems linked to spiders somehow and his researches on spiders genome (blue bonnet), but we only know it’s coveted by many people. It’s all happening in our dimension, roughly at our time.

                      (Where Leo and Bea are renting Jose’s house and they are Dory’s and Dan timeframe ie: now)

                      The first experiences give dreadful results; there is Sasha (mummified by the doctor) who’s dead, and now speaks with the Dr; and there is Claude, who gained super strength and madness, and escaped the island facility.
                      Claude is one of those working with the Mad Baron ; he’s on a undercover mission to get the skull
                      (The false Viscountess —lady in salmon— at the auction was also working for the baron)

                      So Claude escapes but there is another mysterious person looking for the skull; it’s Madame Chesterhope, and she’s sent the magpies to steal it. The magpies are from another dimension, they are famous stealers.
                      Claude encounters the magpies on their mission. He’s captured in an energy labyrinth they have set on the island temporarily, to cover their tracks.

                      Meanwhile, Sha and Glo have arrived. Dory wanted to go but she couldn’t find the airline (bag lady)…
                      And Mavis later explains in a comment (555) how they all got involved in that adventure. She takes some time to convince her husband, and get to go to Tikfijikoo too. During the flight correspondence, she gets to know Paquita and Joselito.

                      On the island, the Dr is losing it seriously. He talks to the dead mummy, and had blond wig and stuff.
                      V’ass is reacquainting herself with the Italian of her secret organization, to report on the Dr. (insert steamy sex scene :)) ) )

                      Dory is back at Gib, with Dan and young Becky and later, her friends Yurick and Yann came to visit; go see Salitre :)
                      She has knowledge of Leo and Bea (Fletcher) – at whose place there are skulls too.

                      On the island, everything starts to get crazy; since Sha and Glo arrived
                      The magpies are ready to strike as a cyclone is coming.
                      Claude has recovered his memory and is no longer mad; but he’s still trapped and tries to find an escape in a strange tree. He goes into another dimension, the giant spiders’ one.
                      In this dimension there are a few human survivors. There is young Anita, and her mummified parents, but still alive from a plane crash; and a stranded soldier from WWII, named “Akita”, who’s got a spirit dog with him he’d found on the spider island.
                      They somehow managed to survive in the giant spider’s jungle (the island is on top of a sort of Bermuda triangle).

                      Anita is in communication with our four essences, who can manifest easily in this spider dimension and our essences are aware of an dimensional gate opening (the cyclone).
                      All this people get together and succeed in escaping through the wortex.

                      So now, that explains the people around the campfire on Tikfijikoo. It was all relatively brief, during the storm, where the others were sheltered on the facility (thanks to V’ass who cared for the careless Sha and Glo)

                      Sha and Glo find out the magpies trying to pry the computer open where the skull is hidden; they crush the magpies with coconuts bra slings (exit the magpies in purple blood ;)) )
                      They find the strange crystal skull they mistakenly think is some apparatus like an UV lamp. They take it to the UV room and plug it; it starts to project all sorts of lights
                      They want to dance, because it’s like a disco.

                      Meanwhile, one giant spider has managed to sneak through the portal, and goes close to them, but she gets sidetracked by the lightened skull and gets shrunk to a small size… and gets crushed by Sha and Glo (they’re the heroines of the day, but they don’t know squat ;)) )

                      There is also a honeycomb subplot with a man named Jarvis on the island, with beehives.

                      Now: Sha and Glo are dancing, Mavis is going out attracted by the campfire, finding out the survivors (The campfire was there because it’s night, and Claude is wary of the island’s owners, because he was abducted and mummified). The Dr is mad as ever.
                      The skull is in the UV room, but they don’t know what it is — only Madame Chesterhope and Claude are knowing (possibly Jarvis and V’ass); but Mme Chesterhope is flung into the ocean crashing into Mahiliki’s plane recently :))

                      #1029
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Elizabeth frowned as she hung up the telephoone. Finnley’s news was rather disturbing.

                        Al has gone crazy!” he’d said. “He is sending everyone to the island and killing spiders and magpies and lord knows what else; that couple with the bad skin, they’ve been stuck inside their hotel room for weeks….”

                        “Whoo, whoo there, slow down a minute, WHICH couple with bad skin?” Elizabeth asked.

                        “Your couple with bad skin! They were your characters!” Really, Elizabeth could be exasperating at times, Finnley thought, and not for the first time.

                        “Oh, yes, them. HHHMMM.” Elizabeth had been silent for so long on the telephoone that Finnley hung up in frustration. He would communicate with Elizabeth telepathically instead.

                        #1007

                        Fabella had just entered the room. She was chatting noisily, as if someone would answer to her. The sound of her footsteps was playing strange ripples on the wooden floor which were mesmerizing to look at.

                        “Years ago, I’d have felt obliged to answer her” she was thinking, as she was hovering over her body looking at the freckled nurse.
                        “I’d felt obliged by some nonsensical politeness to give her the impression that I was, somewhat, paying attention to her as a person —if not to her chatter.”
                        She laughed wholeheartedly.

                        “Oh, you’re smiling Madam, but that ain’t the whole thing, you know! Would you imagine that Miss Elena, after such an outcry would have become wiser, but no…”

                        The voice was continuing an endless litany of gossips.
                        It was obvious that the nurse wasn’t trying to get any answer, much less a conversation from the old body she was giving her daily injection to, she had found out. All the more since that body was so weak and talking was taking more energy than she was willing to give to this action. It was so much more exhilarating to play out of it.
                        She was proud of herself, having come to a place not only to feel accepting of that bodily condition that had left her riveted to her chair and bed at an early age, but more so, to feel grateful for it.

                        The first steps had been the most difficult: a whole new world so vast it was feeling as wide as a crocodile’s mouth menacing to engulf her. But like the crocodile’s mouth, it was easier to shut it close than one would think, and she had found out that she would snap back to her body each time she was distressed. Quite the opposite of what an adventurous mind like hers would endeavour to conquer. She had no care for her dying body, not with this new-found freedom.
                        Perhaps it was a mere springboard for her to get accustomed to death. That’s what her brother had told her once. But he was so fully soaking in religious beliefs that she didn’t know how to handle that he had merely said to her as a gift.
                        All that was important was the exploration, which was real to her. And it was, not only to her, but to others too.

                        For instance, she was now walking, still around Fabella, observing the interplay of the nurse’s energy field with the other people around her, even though Fabella had finished dealing with her minutes ago.
                        In fact, she knew more about Fabella than she could have learned in years of monologues with her. Things like that Ricardo wasn’t the caring guy he was pretending to be with her. But then, she didn’t know how to tell her (and if she had even the right to). She had the feeling that perhaps Ricardo and Fabella’s stories were just distractions that she had found to limit herself in the familiar of her little explorations.
                        There was so much more that she could do, she could feel it. There were no boundaries to it.
                        She could will herself to be in any place, unnoticed by most.

                        Perhaps she could try a “jump” to another location. Trusting that she would come back, as she always had. If if she wouldn’t… well, that could well mean an improvement after all.
                        What about something easy? Like some uncharted paradisaical island in the Pacific…

                        #1004
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Becky was undecided. Add to the last entry? Or start another? Grinning wickedly, she started another.

                          Her second impulse selection was a slightly late coincidence, but a coincidence notwithstanding. It was about Sand Dragons . A Few days previously Becky had been to an auction. She bid for and won a first edition copy of Wisp magazine; it had cost her an arm and a leg, but she was delighted with her purchase. It would increase in value, and was a delight to read some of the first published articles of the many authors, poets, artists and photographers who would later become famous. The article about sand sculptures had reminded her of the T.R.A.P. day out.

                          Well, how about that! exclaimed Becky, reading the rest of the comment. Wish House is one of my most favourites, and I chose it by accident!

                          She read:

                          Illi used to play a game with Cranky (as she affectionately called nanny Chraddock) in the long months while her parents were away, called Wish House. Every room in the sprawling Elizabethan house was a different time and place, and the moment they entered the room they imagined themselves to be different people, in other times. Petunia Duster the maid loved to join in too; consequently not alot of housework got done, but with Gus and Flora always off travelling, nobody minded. Playing was, after all, so much more important than dust. In fact, a thick layer of dust made the rooms all the more mysterious and magical.”

                          Becky ran her finger along the dust on her desk and smiled.

                          OH! Becky jumped. I almost forgot to make a note of the number, now what was it? she mused, scratching her head. I think it was 171 :notepad:

                          Becky wondered whether or not to start another entry. Intuitively, she chose not to. Her third random choice was another synchronicity with the first edition of Wisp: it was about pyramids in Spain. The first edition of Wisp magazine was particularly valuable as it was the first mention in print of the discovery of the Iberian pyramid culture.

                          Number 835 she noted :notepad:

                          #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?

                          #1920
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            An accidental connection between Ancient Siberia, and India(Sri lanka/Vedic etc)

                            “Somaras is said to cause hallucinations and therefore the consumption of soma was permitted only during sacrifices. Somaras gave a sense of growing to gigantic size and possessing superhuman strength or experiencing visions of the gods coming down to join the worshippers on the sacrificial site. Even today a few brahmanic families who try to keep up the very ancient Vedic rituals make a rather bitter drink from a kind of wild rhubarb which they call soma The modern Somaras is not injurious, because the powerful hallucinogenic property of the original soma plant, was replaced by the ineffectual substitute that is used today. It is said that Somaras is similar to the agarics mushroom widespread in central Asia and the Himalayan forests.” jayaraman

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