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  • #2794
    EricEric
    Keymaster

      (#235)
      Well I think for you, said a green creature, to Roselyn. The creature had been there as some sort of exotic plant. I am Frowdup an unusual little Fairy Princess, rather antisocial, sadly.
      Frowdup cleared his significant sort of way. I will try sad succinct and precise possible, he said.
      Fairy Princess initiate a witch to magical design the cave with sand. You fly.

      The creature had stopped Frowdup.

      #2327

      “So how was your lunch date with your new best friend?” Harvey sounded distinctly sarcastic, even to Lavender’s forgiving ears.

      “Oh, you know …”

      Harvey raised his eyebrows. No mean feat when you have a book balancing on your nose. He sighed, and let the book fall. A few months ago he was balancing four poster beds, and now he could barely manage a Lemoine novel. Heavy as they are! He sniggered to himself. Oh well, at least I havn’t lost my sense of humour, along with my sense of smell!

      “Well, to be honest Harvey .. I think I may have been possessed by those pesky aliens. I suddenly came to and I was talking all this rubbish about ‘random quote generators’ and using words like ‘dear’.

      Lavender shuddered in horror at the memory, and then rolled her beautiful eyes and sighed. “Poor Ann, I think she is a really tortured soul.”

      The writer wondered if it was time to add a dark side to Lavender’s personality. All this beautiful eyes business was getting a tad irritating, the beauty of Lavender’s eyes not withstanding. Not to mention her lips which she painted a bright shade of amaranth for every day wear, and on special occasions, rose madder. The writer wondered if the last thought made sense and wondered again how to strike out text. The writer decided to try that last line again.

      Lavender shuddered, and then with an enigmatic smile which even her good friend Harvey found hard to decipher, she said softly, “I ate olives for lunch. They were yummy.”

      The writer sighed and then noticed the random quote generator said “mean cleaner coming soon.” The writer wondered if it was a sign.

      #2325

      “Mmm, they can use whatever politically correct word to say Ann isn’t having a serious case of Dissociative Identity Disorder, but frankly her speaking to herself would be really worrisome were it not for that all that Shifting around.” Growdon was discussing with Franny.

      “Yes,” she nodded with a soft and contagious smile, “doesn’t it look like she denies herself her physicality by burrowing inside the meanders of her short-span attention so deeply and carelessly?”
      … “Oh,” she added swiftly covering her fine lips painted purple with her long fingers, seeing the look on Growdon’s face “I’m not suggesting that… No, don’t be silly”

      Growdon was finding Franny so delicately considerate about their friend.

      He gave the thought a time to sift through his perceptive mind, while looking at the red roses of Geroges and Franny’s store, and had to come to the same conclusion. It definitely looked like Ann was always avoiding to flesh out her DID characters, perhaps out of fear of the dreaded lack of continuity or palatable tangible proof (that as much dreaded “P” word) of the reality of her visions. Truth be told, he and Franny and Geroges were finding her bouts of imagination quite fantastic on their own, they didn’t really need any proof whatsoever. But sincerely they all needed to get a grip!

      #2281
      EricEric
      Keymaster

        G3 (short for GGG, which was shorter for Good God Gordy) asked as if to himself “Anyone met the Fisherman yet?”

        :fleuron:

        Gremwick put down the Psychic Politics book he’d taken for his assignment, his five words written on a lemon coloured sticker:

        Oof… here we go, “state — briefly — fisherman — library — pigeons”… There’s a bit of challenge here. he sighed, mostly uninspired.
        “Perhaps I should have stayed with the easy words like ‘more, is, less, think, true’”.

        :fleuron:

        “Do you mean the Fisherman’s coming? How long has it been already?” Ann started to count briefly on her chubby fingers.
        “Well, I guess if you’d be more assiduous in Pr. Rose’s class in bird divination, you’d found out that the pigeons’ flight was unmistakably precise on that matter.”
        “I tried, believe me, I tried to pay more attention,…” Ann said, “but frankly, I prefer direct experience of the broom cupboard to the draughty corridors of the library…”
        “Oh, I should say I’m a bit disappointed at you; I’ve always believed the state of dustiness would have been an incentive to you rather than a deterrent.”

        “Don’t underestimate the incentive of detergent” Monica said almost mischievously under her breath.

        #2627

        In reply to: Strings of Nines

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          The word flounder popped into Yolands head, and for want of the inspiration to do anything meaningful, or even useful, she googled flounder. She was astonished to find so many varieties of flounder, and recognized that she was counterparting with quite a number of them.

          :fish:

          There was the Crosseyed flounder that she felt an affinity for, at the end of an evening of trying to sort out her photos; Alcock’s narrow-body righteye flounder, which was what she felt like in a bed full of male dogs every night, and she could relate to the Antarctic armless flounder when she couldn’t keep track of the Antarctic thread. Barfin flounder reminded her of the green icon and her friend Finn; Bigmouth flounder ~ Yoland sighed, she definitely felt a connection to that often enough. Blotched flounder, well that sounded a bit like botched ~ there were many occasions when Yoland felt that everything she did was botched, half done and messy. Chain-mail wide-eyed flounder when she dabbled a bit in past lives, and the Disc flounder when she got her music in a muddle. The Dark flounders were the worst, when everything seemed to take on the tone of a horror movie, but they were often followed by a Deep flounder, which sometimes contained a few insights, more often than not promptly forgotten.

          :fish:

          Yoland sighed. Imagine counterparting with just about every flounder known to man! She decided she wasn’t the only one counterparting the European flounder, which was a releif, nor was she the only one counterparting the Fantail flounder, although at least it could be said that she wasn’t a complete fan of anyone in particular, dead or alive, she was a fantail of quite a number. There were long spells of resonating with the Finless flounder; Finn was always disappearing, or so it seemed to Yoland. Very rarely she felt an alignment with God’s flounder, thankfuly she wasn’t often prone to dwelling on God things.

          :fish:

          Ah, the Gray flounder, yes she’d had a bit of a flounder when Gray sent all those photos of the Beltane Dance, she’d had a flounder for sure in amongst all those. Looking back though, she’d had fun with the mummy and Ella Tindale in the Gulf flounder…

          :fish:

          Yoland had to laugh when she came across the Intermediate flounder. Yoland wondered if the majority of her foundering was counterparting with the Intermediate flounder and decided she was probably too intermediate to work it out objectively anyway. She often had a tussle with the Large tooth flounder, lordy, she was always floundering with dental issues. And the Largescale flounder, that really was the biggest ongoing flounder of them all, the sheer vastness of everything.

          :fish:

          Every now and again, less than previously though, Yoland had a Melbourne flounder on Saturday nights, and rather enjoyed it, but not as much as she enjoyed a good old New Zealand flounder.

          :fish:

          Another flounder Yoland always enjoyed was an Olive wide-eyed flounder, roaming around the ancient olive trees of Andalucia, wide eyed and awestruck with the beauty and history of the place. She also enjoyed a Peruvian flounder on occasion, too ~ she’d even had a dream recently about floundering around by the mysterious doorway of Amaru Muru. The next night she’d had a River flounder, dreaming of the river in the Grand Canyon.

          :fish:

          Sand flounders were the best of all though, Yoland recalled many happy flounderings in the world of sand and all its Subulmantium configurations. The trouble with the sand flounder was that it often morphed into the largescale flounder, and got quite out of hand.

          :fish:

          Yoland sighed, it had been ages since she’d felt connected to the Seven pelvic ray flounder, what with Dan working nights. She was beginning to feel like a Shelf flounder. However, at least thanks to her new diet of replacing meals with flans, chocolate mousses and ice cream, she was closely aligning now with the Slender flounder.

          :fish:

          The ongoing slug issue with the cat food was obviously because she was still strongly aligned with the Slime flounder. Notwithstanding, Yoland was rather pleased to note that despite her morose and petulant mood this morning, it had to be said that she often counterparted with the Smooth flounder; although that was easy to forget in moments of quiet desperation when the floundering got out of proportion.

          :fish:

          Smiling, Yoland remembered the dream of feet touching when she noticed there was a Sole flounder too. And how often the Spotted flounder popped up, she was always spotting clues. Well spotted! she would tell herself. Oh, and the Stone flounder, wasn’t that the truth! Yoland was aligning strongly with that lately, smoking more than ever, somehow striving for either inspiration, or perhaps oblivion.

          :fish:

          Oh well, I guess this is just a Summer flounder, it will pass, Yoland decided (who was secretly glad that she was nearing the end of the list of flounder names). And sure enough, the next on the list was the Three spotted flounder, surely a good sign! A probability change perhaps! As if to validate Yolands impression, she noticed the Tile-colored righteye flounder. There was even a Warthog flounder, which seemed to ring a bell with a recent entry to the Reality Play.

          :fish:

          Best of all was the Windowpane flounder, Yoland felt she would even go so far as to say that this was her new focus animal. Well, she thought, if I am making this all up, I can make that up too!

          :fish:

          Thankfully Yoland reached the end of the flounder list, rather pleased that it had ended on such an amusing and encouraging note.

          Being closely aligned with flounders wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

          :fish:

          #2624

          In reply to: Strings of Nines

          The newly deceased Shar and Gor

          “Shouldn’t he say something less grim you think?”
          “I definitely agree my dear Shar
          “Something like in-ceased, or up-ceased… We’re ascended after all!”
          “I’m not so sure it sounds better, but…”

          Well, them being up-ceased, involved a new challenge for the writer(s) of this story, as the two blusterously boisterous ladies were in a desperate move to attempt sending communication to the objective world —officially to discover the extent of their influence. Their new-found access to the collective subconscious made them all the more a trouble for the writer(s).

          Anyway, as we speak, Shar and Glor, were… or are actually trying to influence some characters and hence co-authors of this work of fiction to test their own ability to manipulate some of these individuals.

          So far the extent of their experiments had fared tepid results.

          “OK. Let’s try with these two. I’m beaming something down to them!”

          To which, moments and some non-physical sweating on Glor’s brow later, one of the two subjects of this experiment (the blond one) blurted out without knowing from where it came: “Spiggot on the spike freak, Lingenburg Dash

          “What the hell was that Glor?”
          “Good Lord, I don’t have any idea!”
          “What was it supposed to be then!?”
          “I just beamed them ‘Speaking now without mike – leap if you ain’t dead’!”
          “Good grief… Those two might as well be hopeless…”

          Of course, unbeknown to them, in other potential realities, what she really beamed to them was entirely different; something like ‘Speaking now – dead to the living – leap and bound if you catch’… Subsequently, Ann’s catch was in fact an indication of great disposition to tune into more than one probabilities at a time, the benefits of which were lost to the poor dabbling souls.

          But this point notwithstanding, as they were speaking, another potential just appeared at the horizon. A woman named Yoland, with an improbable ability to express strings of thoughts inspired from above (anywhere that ‘above’ might be) without much distortion.

          “Have to tread carefully with that one, Glor
          “Yes, I reckon dear…”
          “We could even manage to fully channel her body, she seems a perfect candidate!” Sharon would have rubbed her hands with glee if she’d had hands still.
          “Innit a bore though that she would ask for such grand truths…”
          “Not to worry, we’ll invent them as we walk. I’ve even got an idea for session one with her: the great cluster of Mamarose of energy essential oils.”

          #2212
          EricEric
          Keymaster

            A sudden message popped into the bathtub.
            Opening the capsule, it was obvious it came from the future, as the color code was unmistakable.

            Well Fall is officially here now. Time to get down to business. How would up to 3k extra a week fit into your life? We have alot of fun doing it and you can to. Call the number below to hear how you can get onboard.

            The last part was more intriguing. Probably a code.

            Lester’s ex-wife keeps the milk cold. Batman316 is a nugget.

            He rose from the bubble of now cold goat milk bath for his sensitive skin, and dried his muscular body.
            For this mission, he probably would have to get onto those old generation portals. He always had a spare pants for those missions, as only bio material could travel though. He sure didn’t want his pants to disintegrate in the heat of the action.

            #2167
            EricEric
            Keymaster

              Rose of Jericho petals jelly, mmm yummy :))

              #1246

              The two roses of Jericho had almost completely dried up, furled again into a tight ball exhaling a slightly pungent odor.

              Yurick was impressed by the genius of this plant, which could die and “resurrect” countless times, while spending most of its time in this dried up state, only waiting for some water to revive it.

              Perhaps essence was a Rose of Jericho too; he meant his wider self, he could feel it springing from the moisture of new prospects and challenges, then slowly crawling back to a state of balance. These last past days were a sort of clearing of the rest of the waters of the year. Things were looking a bit shriveled on the outside, but you could feel life and impetus was there, if only dormant…

              Funnily, these two didn’t have any names, unlike Sha and Glo the aerial plants, which were still kind of resting on an empty beige egg carton upon the white toilets in the bathroom, where light, moisture (and aerial nutrients) surely never failed to float around.
              It was funny, he thought all of a sudden; looks like the little hairy plants are travelers upon a big iceberg… What a funny story this would make.

              So, the roses didn’t have names… If they were essences of roses, what would be their focuses?

              Well, what was imagination telling him? He could easily imagine them as sort of strange mummies who would dry up into balls of dried flesh and sinews and being revived sometimes during the flood seasons. Actually with the news of Venice (and next Rome) being flooded if there were some old mummies suddenly revived from old times and prolonged lyophilization, that could be a place to start. Well, they probably would have a hard time coping with all the changes and the pace of this time.
              Alabama or Louisiana would be fun places to have some too… Funny mummies…

              #1168

              Military hospital, Scott Base, October 2008

              “It’s BLOODY freezing ‘ere!” a hirsute mop of hair was whining on a camp bed next to two others.

              “Would you just shut the flove up, Glo! You’ve been whining for ‘ours now! It’s not bloddy believable…”
              “Like Mavis says, Glo! We all got in that same bloddy boat ye know… It’s no bed of stinkin’ roses for us either!”

              A long sigh came from Glo, again interrupting the silence.

              “A bloddy pity, you have to admit; being a lady, with PMS for years… At least I could console meself I didn’t have to shave like a man for Pete’s sake! And now we’re over with bloddy PMS, we are as hairy as gorillas!”

              “Don’t be silly Glo, they said they’d find a cure… innit Sha? T’is not what they said? Vessie promised us!”
              “Yeah, just before that little trollop ran away with the others, leaving us in quarantine… Not even a consideration for our efforts to help her seduce the sexy guy …”
              “Ungrateful yeah… When we could have stolen the guy’s heart easily…”
              “Ahahaha, no blimin’ way! not with your new hairdo Sha dear… Ahahah, don’t mean to be rude!”
              “Hey girls, any idea where’s Askitoy?…”
              Akita ?”
              “Put him in confinement I reckon… The poor bloke was delirious, saying he was a WWII soldier…”
              “Good thing the bloddy honeycomb didn’t make us loose our sharp wits, eh!”

              #1101

              Rosemary, who played the role of Finnley as a woman, just slapped Norm in the face.
              You butcher! you scratched my nipples… you have no manners, really!

              He laughed carelessly and her impression of him as a stupid lad just deepened.

              #858
              EricEric
              Keymaster

                Sam looked puzzled at the flurry of new comments that had appeared like a cluster of ripe “groiselles”.
                Having been plugged on the Reality Play Channel, he had been enjoying the activity like a buzzing hive of frantic bees in the background, but decided to get back to his forging of a Jedi light saber.
                The recent didjeridoo adventures had given him some particular insights on how sounds could be manipulated to model matter, and he had decided to adapt a tutorial he had found on the network on how to craft a light saber from carton wraps and glowing sticks. Except that he would do it almost from scratch, starting with a jar of vegemoth…

                As for Al, as he couldn’t resist a peek, he started to wonder what this red currant frenzy was all about. He knew well enough “groseilles”, as his aunt would make delicious red currant jelly in the bayou. But “groiselles”, he checked quickly seemed to be an ancient variation of the word… How odd… Becky’s clue-sowing (a bit Cluseau-ing, indeed :detective: ) talent was really shining in her typos…

                #1775

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Synching with T’s post about Rosie, my massage angel (well her name is Sarah really) started telling me about her puppy called Rosie yesterday, (11th April) Just noticed this was comment 257.
                  :yahoo_rose: :yahoo_big_hug:

                  Cafe with friends a short while ago – was given table number 12 again!

                  :yahoo_big_hug:

                  dreamt about a sort of portal thing last night – i would say it was a muddled mixture of a church and a cave and even a tree, it was hard to know what it was, but the person I was with was dressed in church robes, and we went up high into it till we nearly got to the top. This sort of syncs a bit with Eric’s comment I thought.

                  55 – guests invoice 255, and their black porsche convertible :yahoo_rolling_eyes: number plate 355.

                  only yellow synch i can think of, as I was walking across the park with my friends, the baby started pointing and making noises at a bright yellow plastic bag lying in the grass … apparently (and here I am going off what her mother said as I have no idea) she wanted us to pick it up and put it in the bin. ahahahahahha yeah bugger the freakin yellow !

                  The other day i spent some time googling for a particular model of coffee maker (which appears to be out of stock) … some guests had broken it and wanted to replace it. It was Breville ECM2. Then the next day as I was randomly reading things I linked onto an EFT site. It was talking about Energy and mass (and stuff) and Einstein and E=MC2 (don’t know how to do a little 2). Later I mentioned it to Eric and he found an Einstein synch. Just now I went over to a news site to look for a goat story for T, and the first thing on the page was an advertsing banner for Mariah Carey’s new album, E=MC² . Absolutely no idea of any significance to this synch however it felt sort of illuminated so I am sharing it. Now I will go and look for the goat story again.

                  Goat Story on the news last night

                  #2017

                  In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                  EricEric
                  Keymaster

                    connection notice(d )able
                    :big_rose: roses looks magic kiss :face-kiss: Franci girl love
                    nothing related stories:
                    village strange cave, weather °flove :heart: body office open …

                    #1744

                    In reply to: Synchronicity

                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      LOVE the missing 4 synch JIb :yahoo_big_hug:

                      LOVE all the icons too :big_rose:

                      (because my name is FLOVE and I am LOVE :heart: :yahoo_rofl: )

                      COOL ford anglia picture T

                      #1431
                      EricEric
                      Keymaster

                        Here, some real beers for all :beer: :beer: :beer: :beer:
                        A rose :big_rose: for the kiwis :kiwi:
                        And even for the eggleton twins :egg_wink: :egg_wink:
                        Mandrake :cat_black: seems to wonder :y_orly:

                        Yours truly, a.k.a. the buffoonish Yuki :bunny_head: :buffon:

                        #767
                        EricEric
                        Keymaster

                          State of Marshall VS Vinya Grey
                          extracts of procedure 5057TP on case of unsolved time-blink that may have interfered with the timeline – Aug. 5th, 2237

                          — As you are certainly most aware, Ms Grey, local authorities of the T FGF P (Timespace and Further Geodimensional Flux Police) has recently uncovered a case of unexplainable appearance of a new species within the past.
                          The genetic makeup of this species bears some rather crude indication of human interference, though no official authorization has been recorded on its behalf. Our investigations have led us to believe you may have more than a little to do with this incident, which is, as you are once again quite aware, within the boundaries of decree 5533 on allowed and banned interferences and seeding into the timeline.

                          — Objection, Judge! Prosecutor Arkandiusz is trying to intimidate my client. No proof has been yet produced that may confirm or infirm these allegations.

                          — Mmmm… Objection rejected. Please continue Mr. Arkandiusz.

                          — Shall I remind Ms Grey that the voluntary or involuntary seeding of new species within other areas has most of the time been disastrous, which is the reason of the decree aforementioned. Precedents were numerous even when our ancestors were not even aware of the possibility of time interference. Rabbits in Australia, does it ring any bell?

                          — Objection, Judge! We are not talking about deadly pests here, we are talking about severely handicapped goats! Jeeze, come on…

                          — … Do you mean, the Fainting Goats of our annual Fair, Mr Frey?

                          — Yes, Judge Cornwick.

                          — Oh, that is most interesting… Well, perhaps after this long introduction you may want to introduce your first witness Mr Arkandiusz, Ms… Beryl is that?

                          #755

                          — “Sha! I think I’ve had one of them bloody brainwaves of mine!”

                          — “You are the smart one Glor … ‘ang on, I’ll just light my fag then I can listen proper.”

                          — “Well you know how Vessie has been so good to us and I still feel a bit awful about breaking that bloody door down.”

                          — “We meant well though Glor. Our hearts were in the right places.”

                          — “They were Sha … but then her bloke being there and all …. well that dress she was wearing Sha, it barely covered her privates.”

                          — “She’s a native girl though Glor,” Sharon giggled, “She’d have grown up wearing them little grass skirts and not much else I reckon …. mind she’s ever so nice though ain’t she.”

                          — “Oh she is …. and there’s nowhere to buy clothes on this bloody island neither, she must have to make do, bless ‘er little ‘eart.”

                          — “It could do with a mall I reckon Glor,” said Sharon reflectively, “this place would really take off if there was a small mall.”

                          — “I think you’re onto something there Sha, oh that would be bloody marvellous I reckon, a small mall.”

                          — “Anyway what’s your brainwave then Sha? I’m all agog with curiousness.”

                          — “Well I reckon with all the eating and lying around we’ve been doing I’ve gained a bit…. what do you reckon Sha?”

                          — “You might have done a bit Glor,” said Sharon eyeing her friend thoughtfully, “you can carry a bit extra though, and it goes to all the right places on you, you look right sexy, I reckon our Harry would think so anyway”

                          — “Oh give over Sha! “ Gloria blushed and giggled. “Anyway back to my brainwave … well that Vessie is quite slim … “

                          — “A bit on the skinny side really, Glor, needs a bit of meat on them bones of ‘ers to be what you would call proper sexy like us, and very tall with it ain’t she.”

                          — “Yes athletical, most of them island girls are I reckon. Anyway, listen up Sha, a few of my things ain’t been fitting so well and …and ‘ere’s my master plan Sha …Da da ….” she paused dramatically, “I thought I could hunt out something nice for Vessie!”

                          — “Oh that’s bloody genius Glor! you’ve got a real kind heart you ‘ave! You’re a bloody saint even … did you ‘ave something special in mind?”

                          — “Did I what Sha!” Gloria’s eyes were shining with delight at her own generosity. “You remember that pink frock, the one I wore when you and Harry got ‘itched, with the wee roses on it. Well I bought it with me! I thought you daft fool! when I packed it, what you taking that bloody thing for? … I reckon it was my psychic abilities I got ‘anded down from my Aunty Philly, God rest her soul, made me bring it.”

                          — “Oh you’ve still got that frock! That were bloody gorgeous …. well bless your bloody heart Glor!”

                          — “Well its got sentimentical value of course,” said Glor looking serious. Her voice lowered, “ Between you and me though Sha, I do feel for that poor girl. I mean she’s pretty enough .. but she’s got no bloody idea how to make the best of what she’s got. It’d be a bit on the short side mind …. but I don’t think she’d mind that, not if that last dress is anything to go by, and I’m right handy with the needle and thread if it needs any fixing” she paused for a moment thinking, “Sha! I think I’ve ‘ad another bloody brainwave! We could give her a full beauty makeover, the bloody works, with all our beauty know-how … that lippy she was wearing ..” her voice trailed off and she shook her head sadly.

                          — “Wrong shade of red weren’t it,” Sharon nodded understandingly. “She’s going to have to make a bit more effort if she’s to keep that bloke of hers.”

                          — “Well I’ll ‘ave him any day,” giggled Gloria

                          — “Oh you’re bloody wicked, you are Glor! If your Joe could ‘ear you now! …. ‘ere you’ll ‘ave to fight me for ‘im though! … ere,” she said looking around and lowering her voice conspiratorily, “maybe we could have one of them threesomes!”

                          — “Oh stop Sha, you’re too bloody much you are!” spluttered Gloria, barely able to control her mirth. “Serious now though Sha, that Vessie might be a bit overcome and shy like, with all our generousness and kindheartedness, we have to make sure she knows we ain’t taking NO for a bloody answer!”

                          #750
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            I take it from that you don’t know where the wedding dress is currently. Well if you do come across it would you mind letting Felicity know. said Tina haughtily, switching the phone off abruptly.

                            Al’s words running through her head she started walking quickly nowhere in particular.

                            Tina, what’s the point of these experiments we have been doing with Becky and Sam if you are going to keep relying on the phone all the time? And why are you trying to sort out the dress for Felicity, it isn’t your problem.

                            It wasn’t the so much the words which had stung, after all he was right, it was the annoyance she thought she had heard in his voice.

                            She felt him making contact, quickly blocked, feeling too hurt to be open.

                            She knew he was tired, god knows he had put so much into the wedding preparations, as he did with all his projects. He was fast building a reputation for his ground breaking experiments with body processes. Tina loved Al whatever he looked like, which was just as well really considering some of the rather bizarre effects he managed to produce.

                            Becky had been a bit irritated with her as well, Tina you are so last decade, nay century even! she would say, rolling her large eyes dramatically. Becky too was racing confidently and exuberantly ahead. Her intriguing contributions to the reality play never failed to amaze Tina. Her own contributions felt stolid, words trapped in a big gluggy ball of last century energy, she had to work hard to extricate each one.

                            It was nearly dark, raining harder now, wind-driven rain. Tina liked it, the rain complemented her mood and disguised the self-pitying tears streaming down her face. There were very few people in the street. Just the long line of shop windows, glass faces warmly lit, overhangs offering some shelter from the rain, though it wasn’t shelter Tina was looking for.

                            Her long hair whipped around her face, wet blue satin clung to her slim frame.

                            Sam had taken off unexpectedly and suddenly to Australia. He had been gone only a few days and she missed him. Dear Sam, his wicked and irrepressible sense of humour could make her laugh even in the blackest of moods. He too was playing with new potentials, forging new and exciting paths.

                            The others are probably all communicating with their advanced telepathic skills right now, laughing at dumb old last century Tina, she thought morosely. In fact even last century I would have been so last century, judging by my spectacular lack of success at anything I have undertaken recently. A vision of her recent humiliation in the ballet dancing class sprang to mind. She winced and quickly blocked the distressing image of the dance teacher drawing her aside after class and gently suggesting she might try the Ancient Kuzhebar Motional Practices beginner’s class, to get some basic rhythm, before attempting the ballet. ….

                            An elderly woman who had disembarked at the nearby gondola stop splashed by her, and, illuminated momentarily by the street lamp, Tina felt a flash of recognition. The woman turned suddenly towards her, smiled, gesticulated with her free hand, the other was clutching a large bag, towards some distant bushes. She mouthed some words at Tina, but these were lost in the wind. Tina waved and managed a reciprocal smile.

                            She noticed a Positivity Robot parked in front of Samantha Lingerie, and found herself drawn towards it, 3D images of models wearing the latest in underwear fashions rotated in the shop’s window, their faces beaming irritatingly at her. These Positivity Robots had been all the rage in the early 2020’s, you did not see as many of them now. On impulse she stood in front of the robot, touched the screen, allowing it to read her energy. “negative 21” its glass face discreetly informed her. The words “I AM PERFECT flashed up on the screen as a suggested thought pattern to implement. Tina grimaced. I wonder how low I can make this damn thing go. The idea made her giggle and to her alarm shot the meter up to a positive 12. Bugger, a bad start!

                            What am I going to do with myself, Mr PR, if you are so positively smart?

                            I AM PERFECT…. I AM PERFECT …. I AM PERFECT ….

                            perfectly grumpy, perfectly insecure, perfectly last decade, perfectly soaked to the skin, Tina watched as the meter climbed all the way up to 55.

                            She glanced at the shop window, just as a smiling model wearing a minuscule open net dress and nun’s habit rotated by. She felt an inexplicable burst of amusement as the meter climbed to 57.

                            #745

                            Arona, my dear?

                            The silky voice of Malvina resounded in Arona’s ear, while she was meditating on the implications of the story Vincentius had told her.

                            — Yes?
                            — May I borrow you Buckberry and your sabulmantium for a few moments?
                            — Oh sure, no need to ask… Though I don’t think you require my permission for Buckberry, isn’t he free as I am?
                            — Oh yes he is, exactly as you said, free as you are

                            Arona could have sworn she felt a winking energy rippling through her flesh, making some unfamiliar electrical currents crawl underneath her skin. She would have said she was thoroughly disliking it, though she wasn’t really sure if she was.

                            — Oh, Malvina added as if an innocent afterthought, we are moving by the way, perhaps you may find interesting to join us for the homationing ceremony. You may learn some more about your sabulmantium.
                            — Well, why not, answered Arona having no idea of what a homationing ceremony could be…
                            — Very well, please join us in the main entrance, where I am playing the harp. We will be waiting for you.
                            — I’ll be there in a second.

                            So, they were moving? Speak about implications… Arona muttered, stroking dozing Mandrake, who had feasted on too many of the moorats crawling inside the moisteous cave tunnels.
                            I guess I’ll take this astounding elan as a hint that I’ll be going alone she said. A yawn for all answer.
                            Considering it was Mandrake, that was almost a mark of distinctive affection… or was it rather of affectionate distinction?

                            Moving? She didn’t want to move, not yet, not like that… And to be honest, with all the stuff in that cave, she sure didn’t want to help pack all of this, be it by magic. What an impossible task.

                            Vincentius the nanny was taking care of Yikes, so she was confident should anything happen, he would be alright.

                            :fleuron:

                            On the outside of the cave, the dragons were all lined up, as if waiting for some unknown signal. Leormn first in shades of teal, and his spawns, Buckberry, with the most florid and baroque hues of purple that one could imagine, and the two facetious Heckle and Jeckle in shades of emerald, looking unusually calm.

                            Malvina, with Leo the little marmoset on her left shoulder, was playing her harp, while Irtak was accompanying her playing a mouth harp.
                            Some drums had been disposed around, and quite naturally, Arona felt like beating the measure on these, getting slowly and slowly relaxed by the music and guttural sounds produced by the throat singing dragons.
                            She almost laughed and broke the meditating pattern when she let the memory of Sanso come into her awareness. What a shame he’d missed that, that would have fitted him better than her.

                            Slowly the sounds stopped, and Malvina very gracefully rose from her stool, and greeted Arona with a loving hug. Her flowing robe was a tender orchid hue with laces of thistle pink, and her silvery peach long flowing hair were giving her the aura of a princess.

                            — Wait, where are Georges and Salome? She said, are they already gone?
                            — No, they are waiting for us at the new location, she said with a smile… Now, Leormn will start the ceremony.

                            Arona almost said Wait again, in anticipation of what was to come, and finally decided to let it flow. The serene look of Malvina and her motherly smile was of a nurturing reassurance.

                            Outside, in the grassy lands, the dragons had all grown wings and were apparently ready to take off. A pile of conic shaped dirty sand was standing in front of the entrance, that Arona had never seen before.

                            She could feel Buckberry answer her unspoken question without even a word being uttered. It is soil from the cave, and we will use it now.

                            Arona watched the dragons rise in the sky full of damp gray clouds, and wondered what they were doing.
                            They are doing two things, Arona answered Malvina (again that disagreeable habit of reading thoughts, couldn’t help but think Arona, wishing there would be some World around where such thing wouldn’t be so easy), first they are checking what kind of creature are staying with us and following the movement, continued Malvina, ignoring the remark, and second, they are drawing with that sand from the cave a circle to enclose the area we want to move

                            Arona didn’t dare say the explanations were making her even fuzzier, so she nodded as if abreast of what was going on.

                            Popping sounds of the dragons blinking in and out to get some more dirt almost made her dizzy, and she forgot the strangest feeling she had when she thought she heard “the area we want to move”.

                            — Now, continued Mavina, the sabulmantium.

                            The dragons were now all back, and the pile of sand had disappeared.
                            Arona’s attention snapped back to herself, and she handed the fine object to the lady. She couldn’t help but notice the glowing eyes of Irtak, who apparently was very eager to see what would happen.
                            So he will move too, she thought, hope his father won’t be too sad… Why did she felt it was a separation from this place she had found she was liking…

                            — If you look closely, said Malvina to no one in particular, but Arona took it for herself, you will see how easy it is to come back if you feel so inclined.

                            At her touch, the coloured sands in the sabulmantium’s transparent dragon shell globe started to move. And all could see the cave being formed, with all the little people, dragons, glukenitches and even Leo and Mandrake… They were all here, enclosed into a circle of sand.

                            — Now, if you will follow me… said Malvina who traced on the ground a curvy symbol.

                            And very slowly, as the whole sand scenery inside the sabulmantium was turning in a round, they all felt as though they were dissolving into the air. Yet, they were all solid, and the interior of the cave was still too.
                            The only thing that was moving was the exterior, twirling and changing, getting out of focus, and moving erratically at the beginning, and then getting close to a focal point. Some fine tuning was occurring.

                            And in a snap,
                            The landscape
                            Was
                            In all its splendor…

                            — Greetings! a smiling couple at the entrance of the cave said to the people inside.

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