Daily Random Quote

  • Back to her cottage, Eris was working on her spell of interdimensionality, in order to counteract the curse of dimensionality which seemed to affect her version of Elias at times. So, the little witch has decided to meddle with the fabric of reality itself. She could hear the sneers of her aunt. She was raised by her ... · ID #7390 (continued)
    (next in 14h 04min…)

Latest Activity

Search Results for 'self'

Forums Search Search Results for 'self'

Viewing 20 results - 1,301 through 1,320 (of 1,581 total)
  • Author
    Search Results
  • #803

    The room was chilly and silent when she awoke. The transition between her dream and the reality was like a cold shower on her aching body. It was still the middle of the night, even the guards were noiseless. She managed to bring her body close to the wall with the only window far above her head. Her thin clothes weren’t sufficient to keep the warmth into her flesh and she couldn’t restrain a shiver. How painful this could be after such a vivid dream.

    She winced when one of her right thigh muscles decided to contract on its own and wouldn’t let go of the tensions. She tried to relax and breathe as deeply as she could, which made her cough repeatedly and that was even more painful. Still she could think. She was with that girl and her dragon again, Lola she was. Though that time the dragon was sleeping rather deeply. She could not blend her mind with her. The other was well shielded and she couldn’t communicate. Even her mind was a prison that she couldn’t communicate with her dream selfs.

    There was that woman again, the Warrior Goddess, but they didn’t fight with her pupil as they usually did. She was more like a channel to another realm. Atiara could barely feel the presence of the others. They were too far in a way that she couldn’t comprehend.

    Oh! Now she was remembering… hope.

    After what had seemed hours of an exhausting fight with ghosts, the vividness of that dream had faded and she had found herself speaking with a young lad. What was his name? He was showing her different symbols, telling her that she had asked him in a dream once and that his friend Ewrick had now finished them. Yann had then showed her this set of symbols.

    She had felt a different kind of power along with the smile of a blue man. Had she asked for this? She couldn’t remember. She had said to Yann that they were beautiful though she hadn’t the slightest idea of what they were. He had laughed and just said that she’ll know soon enough. And there was that guy behind Yann, with his mischievous look and his nine-tailed fox…

    All she could hope was that she would remember the set. It seemed important. Well important enough that she had forgotten her painful body consciousness for a few moments. The coldness of the stone under her bare feet was bringing her back to her gray reality. The storm was now closer but still not ready to release its power. She was waiting for it.

    #802

    Bea stretched and yawned, and threw the bedcovers back. The early morning sun was streaming in the windows, catching the coloured glass bottles and crystals on the windowsill and making rainbow mice scamper over the floor. Horus, the Siamese cat, crouched with tail swishing, ready to pounce.

    Bea sat up and swung her legs out of bed, feeling around with her feet for her slippers; a rainbow mouse crawled up her leg.

    “Ouch! For fuck’s sake, Horus!”

    Horus stared at Bea, unperturbed, and then yowled, asking for breakfast.

    “Come on then Horus, let’s go and put the coffee on, are you hungry? Lovely day again! I wonder if Leonora’s up yet; doubt it! Come on then, hut hut!”

    Bea wasn’t sure why she always said ‘Hut Hut’ to the cat, but Horus seemed to know what she meant, and followed her into the kitchen.

    “Oh, it’s Eggleton painting day today, Horus!” Bea said to the cat, noticing the big basket of eggs on the kitchen table, For the Eggleton Hunt on Thursday.

    Horus yowled and twisted himself through Bea’s legs.

    “Ok Ok!” she replied, and opened a can of BocaBits with Atun. For herself, she made a large mug of black coffee with plenty of sugar, and lit a cigarette.

    With the third lungful of smoke, Bea recalled a strange snatch of dream, and started to sing:

    One man went to mow , went to mow a meadow,
    One man two man and his dog
    Went to mow a meadow……

    “Oh!” Bea said “I wrote something down in the night!” She went to the bedroom to get her dream journal.

    “One man went to mow scattered lettuces.”

    One man went to mow scattered lettuces? HUH? That doesn’t make any sense. I wonder if Leo can work it out, she’s good with clues…

    “Leo! LEO! OY, Leo, whaddya make of this here dream snap-phrase then?” Bea barged into Leo’s bedroom and prodded the sleeping bulk.

    “Wha wha whazzat!” Leo woke up with a start. “Bloody ‘ell, Bea! You woke me up! I was having a lovely dream about rabbits, an’ all……”

    One man went to mow scattered lettuces; what do you make of that? “ Bea asked, as she plonked herself down on Leo’s bed with a bounce that made the bed springs squeak.

    Leo frowned, instantly awake now and intrigued with the clue. To Bea she said, “Get me a cup of coffee and a fag, and I’ll google it.”

    :fleuron2:

    Horus, having disinterestedly licked some of the juice off his Bocabits, jumped onto Leo’s lap as she typed the word lettuce into the search window. He jumped onto the desk, knocking a well worn paperback copy of Seth Speaks onto the floor, and on impulse, Leo added the words ‘Horus’ and ‘Seth’.

    Bea, Leo was laughing, Come and look at this .

    #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.

    #1741

    In reply to: Synchronicity

    Jib
    Participant

      Ok, I had some interesting syncs with the 444 stuff and the car… well…

      Going to work this morning I felt a bit oppressed and there was that guy that I had noticed from some time on the other side of the street. When I crossed the street and found myself walking behind him I suddenly noticed that electric blue little thingy on his back bag, very bright and I felt very relaxed after that. I turned my head on my left and noticed a car with the number 144 on its plate, though the 1 was under mud… well I thought of Francie and looked at an ups brown van… the phone number on the car was 0821 233 something… I laughed because of the 21 of course and also of the 233 which is also a signal for me of Eric and Elias… that was syncing with the blue dot and the 44.

      I thought I still missed one 4 to do the complete sync.

      Well I went into the elevator and hit button number 3, because that was where I had to go… work you know :))
      And the guy with the blue dot back bag entered the elevator and hit the button number 4 and turned his head to me and said “Hi” with a BIG SMILE :face-smile-big:

      I smiled back at him and thought, well I just got my 3rd 4 ;))

      ISN’T THAT A COOL SYNC!?

      #800

      Pondering the significance of his dream , Franiel set out again. It was the third morning since he had woken to find the chalice missing, and he was no closer to knowing where he was going. Yet he had taken the advice of the BBL and felt all the better for it in his spirit.

      Morning! Franiel called a greeting to an old woman who was passing by, delighted to see signs of life, and wondering if it meant he was near a Village. Might I ask where you are taking that basket of eggs?

      A good morning to you young man. Certainly you may ask, I am taking these into the Village Market to sell.

      And where might that be, it is not the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon by any strange chance? asked Franiel, thinking nothing would surprise him anymore.

      The old woman looked at him in astonishment. The Village of Chard Dam Jarfon! You surely have a very long journey before you if you are heading for the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon. No indeed, I am going to the Village of Chard Dut Jep, an hour or so from here.

      Franiel considered this for a moment. And if I keep heading the way I am going, and from whence you have started, where might I be going?

      The old woman hesitated and looked at Franiel with an odd expression in her dark eyes.

      I am not sure if you want to do that, for this is a very long and lonely way you are heading. Unless you are going to the old Chesterhope mansion, and there’s not many who would do be doing that anymore.

      How very interesting, said Franiel, rather intrigued. Is that where you have come from Old Woman?

      The old woman gazed searchingly at Franiel for a moment before answering.

      Aye it is, I work for Madame Chesterhope. I am the only one left now and it has been like that for many a long year, save for old Derwent of course, him who minds the gardens, but he’s not right in the mind that one and Madame keeps him on out of the kindness of her heart, said the Old Woman, and Franiel sensed some deep sadness in her voice, but in the next breath it was gone and he wondered if it was a trick of his mind.

      Why don’t you come to the Village with me? she asked. Are you looking for work? There’s plenty would take on a fine young man such as yourself.

      Would your Madame Chesterhope be looking for someone such as myself by any chance? asked Franiel, For I have nowhere in particular I am headed, and I am in need of some way of keeping myself. And as he spoke the words out loud he found himself wondering at them, yet he felt such an odd sense of anticipation inside himself, as though perhaps there was some new adventure to be had after all.

      Again the old woman looked at Franiel appraisingly for a long time. Eventually she spoke.

      When you get to the crossways turn left and keep heading that way for 2 miles till you see the Chesterhope sign. It’s an up and down path for a ways to get to the mansion from there. When you get there, it would be best to keep in mind all is not as it might seem. I will say no more and bid you farewell, for I have still got a ways to go.

      Perhaps I will see you later then! Franiel called after her.

      She turned and looked back at him. Perhaps.

      #1740

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        just remembered another one I meant to tell you. I bought a Brita water filter from the supermarket recently, it was quite spontaneous as I just noticed they had one sitting by itself on the shelf. I think this is a synch with one of Eric’s photos. Also the month counter at the top was set to 11 of the 11th or 11 11

        (this is comment 222 btw)

        At the aquarium the other day I was really drawn to these cool, luscious, yellow fish, partly because they seemed to be staring at me … :face-glasses: then i saw that they were named lemon (something, can’t remember the other word- maybe lemon) :fruit_lemon: fish and cost $57. (it was 57 dollars and something cents, but i can’t remember the cents, so that is a synch with not remembering the rest of the fish name :yahoo_oh_go_on: )
        Also this gives me an opportunity to use the new fish and lemon icons .
        :fish: :fish: :fish: :fish: :fish: :fish: :fish: :fish: :fish: :fish: :fish: :fish:

        #1736

        In reply to: Synchronicity

        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          previous comment

          catching up…

          After we introduced the Italian Arch-Agent Gabriel to the story, there was a story in our local paper on crime writers with two authors featured.

          One of these was Quintin Jardine. The section started with the words:

          “If there are such things as angels” the big detective whispered “that’s what they look like.”

          The detective who spoke them was an Italian.

          The other author featured, was French crime writer Fred Vargas, (who is a woman, also a renowned archeologist). I really enjoyed reading what she had to say in the article regarding her philosophy on life and writing.

          The articles were edited by Finlay McDonald.

          :fleuron:

          With some physical health problems which have reared their head the last little while I have also been aware of the number of “angels” in my life, in fact have sort of had a game where I call them angels to myself … the massage angel i met, the cafe angel etc etc etc. Mr X gave me the name of some people who do gardening, as the property was getting out of hand. They went well out of the way, and I was thinking how they were my gardening angels …. later they gave me their business card. Their business name is “Gardening Angels”

          :fleuron:

          The book I picked randomly on my trip to Auckland is The Traveller I had not heard of it before but apparently it is a best seller and part one of a trilogy :yahoo_rolling_eyes:

          There are aspects of it which sort of remind me of our story, travelers who travel between dimensions etc

          John Twelve Hawks is the author, I think he is a recluse or something, nobody seems to know much about him.

          website

          :fleuron2:

          I love T’s eggs falling from the sky synch .. it felt like abundance and magic :creating_magic:

          #794

          Franiel dreamed of strange eggs being dropped from giant birdlike creatures in the sky. Some of the eggs exploded into flashes of light in the inky darkness of the night sky. He fell to the ground and hid his face in his arms and waited. He could hear the highpitched noise of the eggs falling, getting louder and louder as they approached the ground, and he knew his life was in the hands of the gods as to whether or not he was destroyed.

          At last all became quiet. He raised himself cautiously and began to examine the earth to see what damage had been caused. The dog of Leonard accompanied him, yet all of a sudden it ran from him. All else was forgotten as Franiel followed the dog, fearing for it’s well being.

          As if in pursuit of a hare, the dog ran and ran, eventually coming to a large mansion and running in through the open door. The walls and floors of the mansion were made of marble, ornate pillars and statues graced the wide entrance way. The mansion appeared to be deserted, yet Franiel had no thought for that, only of bringing the dog to safety.

          The dog disappeared into one of the many rooms of the palatial hallway with Franiel in hot pursuit. The room was empty save for a large Bengal Tiger, a magnificent and regal creature, radiating a strange power from it’s shiny yellow eyes. The tiger was about to take the small dog in it’s mouth, and Franiel grabbed a branch from a tree which was lying on the ground (and within his dream he wondered how the branch came to be there) and fearlessly placed it in the mouth of the beast. The branch was woefully inadequate, a mere twig in the jaws of this powerful beast, yet it distracted the tiger sufficiently for the dog to run to safety.

          Now Franiel faced the beast alone, perplexed, yet strangely unafraid.

          #793
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            From Timbuktooh to old Perooh
            She flooh. Said she: “Tooh much tooh dooh!”
            T’was trooh, she knooh
            T’would make her spyooh
            The Ballyhooh and Bumbledooh

            Elizabeth chuckled to herself. Wonder if that old fart Barash’ll publish that.

            #792

            Elizabeth Tattler gazed at herself in the mirroor and sighed. Of course she was still stunningly bootiful, but since dear Eddie Foosher, her fourth husband, had decided to descend, she had lost the will to really care for herself. Day in and day out she had been focused on her writing, at first to ease the pain and loneliness, however increasingly she was finding real joy in her work. She looked lovingly towards the stoove where she was hardbooling a couple of mongoat oogs in preparation for some more Oogleton exploits.

            She turned back to the mirroor. I really do have glorioos eyes she reflected, even if still a tad bloodshot. She remembered the one occasion she had met the philosopher Lemone, many years ago now. What was that little loomerick he had written for her?

            Slowly it came back to her.

            There was a Young Lady whose eyes,
            Were unique as to coloor and size;
            When she opened them wide,
            Poople all turned aside,
            And started away in surprise.

            She smiled at the memory, how she would love to meet Lemone again! She remembered fondly how his air of kindly wisdom had far outshone his rather odd appearance and garish taste in cloothing.

            #1730

            In reply to: Synchronicity

            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Two funny number plate interactions this morning on my walk .. my mind drifts all over the place when i am walking, I started thinking about the story and the latest entry from Eric on the Ooh dimension. I looked up and noticed a car going past at that moment .. numberplate POOTY

              The numberplate thing intrigues me, sometimes they seem so specific to my thoughts and often they seem to reflect interactions happening in the story and with you guys. On my trip to Auckland there were periods I felt this connection strongly, TEENA1, EGG555, numerous 57s, 23’s and 53’s etc …. although again it was the timing and interaction with my thoughts which felt the significant things. Three cafes in a row I was given the number “12”, the fourth I was not given a number but I noticed the lady at the table next to me had the ’12”.

              The next numberplate which jumped out at me this morning was ALQ823, this was following POOTY

              :fleuron:

              While I was away I had found myself in a big book barn with sale books. I had just a few moments and decided on impulse it would be good to have a book. I picked up two books at random and skimmed the back covers. One of the books had main characters Gabriel and Maya. I relate to Maya as being another form of the name May and Gabriel of course being the Arch-Agent introduced on Tikijkoo (sp?) Island recently. All the other books seemed to be reduced to $9.99, this one was reduced to $5 (fun), well i thought i could not go far wrong at that price.

              some more on this soon … i have to get dinner :chomping:

              #1911
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                BADUL
                or
                the CREATIVe Act
                Badul could be a fiction character.
                It has its own independent entity, although it has no defined
                personality.

                Badul is the action-space-time unit
                and an harmonic fluid of generating rhythm

                Badul is a scale, a range,
                the (one and only) scale, palette. It’s the power to choose, no
                limits, no catalogues.

                The day I discovered Badul I was unconscious. I only knocked at a door
                without knocking.
                And it came to light the pure
                action-creation.

                Maybe a
                dimensión?
                The consecution of acts, part of arevelation?

                Badul is finding, fruitful searching, the living blow.
                If you know it,
                you’ll recognize it.
                If you recognize yourself in it,
                Badul will always be on your side.

                ~~

                I had a dream last night that Arkandin told me to pay closer attention to ‘pop-in’ websites

                #787
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  A draft suddenly went through the open window, rattling a pile of previously disarrayed papers that Finnley had neatly put on the desk, catching the office cleaner by surprise.
                  (Albert is wondering now what is the gender of Finnley, but probably that has to do with his new exploration and isn’t very important. Al is agreeing with himself on using handy ellipsis)

                  Finnley, perplexed by the thoughts having went in accompanying the rogue wind, closed the opened window. The air was decidedly more breathable, now the emanations of nicobeck were dispersed. Not to mention the trails of that magpie’s droppings. Finnley would gladly do with a bootle to roll them into a big ball.

                  What was with the third-person talking anyway? Finnley was wondering… And who is Al? Finnley knew of a Haley, but no Al for sure…
                  Surely that Tattler’s madness was contagious…

                  Putting the papers back onto the desk of Mrs Tattler (yes, I think she’s a she this one), Finnley notices something that catches Finnley’s eye (“stop messing with my thoughts!” thinks Finnley)…

                  … They were thus one of the first sentient races created by the Powers with limited awareness to populate the lands of Dooane (note: replace all previous occurrences of “Earth” with Dooane, and M’si with Moortuane). Uglings were dwarfish, a bit stout and let’s say plain ugly for most of them. But they inherited a keen mind and greatest forging skills.
                  Uglings revered the Power known to them as the Goddess of the Earths, Margiloonia, as their resemblance with raw clay and unpolished rocks were for them the evidence of such lineage. Combining their craft, they created an exquisite cup in dedication to the Goddess. Huriol, the First Ugling King in these times of Legend was given the cup to care for.
                  The Power known as Margiloonia upon seeing this offering of acknowledgment to her was very pleased and imbued the cup with transmootation powers which could be used by its true owner for healing, and some said, even to resurrect the flesh…

                  A loud knock at the door drew Finnley out of the contemplation.

                  Isn’t that vacooming done yet? I have a book to write! The stridulent voice of Elizabeth Tattler was asking behind the still closed door.

                  #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.

                    #778
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Meanwhile, Becky was still connecting strongly to the Laughing Monk, Schnortz, from ancient Kuzhebar. Reciting another limerick to herself, she made her way across the flooded street, attracted to a warm and cozy looking cafe on the other side.

                      “The goat floating secret is this”
                      Nanaconda butts in with a hiss.
                      “Stretch out in the sun!
                      Relax and have fun;
                      Now come here and give me a kiss”

                      The flood water rushed past Becky’s ankles, causing her to stagger. Unidentified floating debris bumped the back of her legs and she almost buckled.

                      “Well then, what shall we do now, Deliria?”
                      Asked a white faced and trembling Wisteria.
                      “Go for the kiss?
                      Or give it a miss?”
                      Replied she, “Let’s consult Wikipedia.”

                      Becky reached the other side of the street relatively unscathed and headed towards the Wisteria Garden Internet Cafe.

                      #2011

                      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        egg times away heard
                        articles himself matter
                        phone russia warm
                        sanso information watch
                        remember bring later yourself
                        dragon guests keep book

                        #773

                        On his way to work, Yann was singing. These last few days had been harsh to his self appreciation process, he had lots of judgments against everything he was doing. He had found it quite exhausting and quite detrimental to his relationships with his friends.

                        Well, despite the fact that Archibald puppet had told him about his bucket… or his garbage he couldn’t remember, and not to forget to empty it regularly, he had been submerged with stimuli from everywhere and from everybody, to the point that he wouldn’t allow a single smile inside himself.

                        Yesterday, they had received their furniture with Yurick, and in the process of assembling them and putting them into place, rearranging the configuration of the apartment, he found himself appreciating of his new home.
                        When he woke up that night, it was 5:12am. He couldn’t sleep, and he wouldn’t wake Yurick up. He had noticed several times that he had many associations with this hour of the day… like a burden, a new day of work soon approaching all that crap again and so on…

                        All he had to do was just… yes like that, he was appreciating his own being. Himself lying in the bed, the breathing movement of his friend beside him, still and relaxed.

                        When the alarm clock was about to ring himself out of the bed, he was already awoken and he cut it off before it could awake his beloved. It was 7:57am.
                        On his way to the bathroom, Arona the cat was quite demanding of caresses… he took some time and appreciated deeply the contact of her soft fur, long and warm silky hairs.

                        Thus, Yann was singing, and when he arrived at the crossroad just before his workplace, there was that man… and their gaze met surreptitiously. And the man started singing. Yann smiled.

                        #770
                        Jib
                        Participant

                          When Yann came home for lunchtime, the furniture had been delivered.
                          Yurick was already busy assembling them as that was assemble-it-yourself furniture…

                          That was fun.

                          #1906
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Booked tickets today for Cirque du Soleil in Malaga for July 4th! :bounce:

                            Quidam: a nameless passer-by, a solitary figure lingering on a street corner, a person rushing past. It could be anyone, anybody. Someone coming, going, living in our anonymous society. A member of the crowd, one of the silent majority. The one who cries out, sings and dreams within us all. This is the “quidam” that Cirque du Soleil is celebrating.

                            A young girl fumes; she has already seen everything there is to see, and her world has lost all meaning. Her anger shatters her little world, and she finds herself in the universe of Quidam. She is joined by a joyful companion as well as another character, more mysterious, who will attempt to seduce her with the marvelous, the unsettling, and the terrifying.

                            Check out the characters

                            #762
                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              The glowing light was showing a familiar face…

                              — So the boy is wavering?
                              — Yes. He is uncertain of the path… Does seem to have difficulty to trust his calling and take responsibilities being the owner of…
                              — He’ll do that. We can’t let him run away from it, nor afford the time of little vacationing. Did you secure the item?
                              — Yes. But you know it is worthless unless willingly handed over by the previous owner, right?
                              — Certainly. But I feel he’ll soon wish it back.
                              — I have words of cankerous corruption, endemic to where he was sent.
                              — Precisely.

                              :fleuron2: :fleuron2: :fleuron2:

                              Glasgow, Scotland, February 25 th 2068, Wrick Fundation

                              — So Cuthbert has refused?
                              — Yes. With his sister busy with her first-born, she can’t take on that much responsibility either.
                              — This is most regrettable. Lord Wrick’s will was perfectly clear though. Should none of the twins accept running his empire, all of its wealth would be used for humanitarian projects of the Fundation.

                              :fleuron:

                              A week before, Orkney Islands

                              — Cuthbert, you must accept.
                              — Please, don’t wear yourself out Pope. Your body is weak.

                              Cuthbert’s face was drenched by emotion. Despite his small frame and his scrawny body, Lord Hilarion Wrick’s strong will was still present, as if etched on his face by all the years of reign. He wouldn’t take a “no” for answer, even now he was dying, just as he had never accepted it in his nearly 120 years of existence.

                              — Cuthbert, listen to me. All this time you and your sister have spent at the Manor, all of the time I spent with you, this was not meant for naught, you know that. I was not some old decrepit rag of an elder waiting for his death cushioned between the laughters of his great-grand children. I noticed how you and your sister handled at an early age what I have been showing to you. The books,… the mummy even. This was only a test. What I had not found in Sean, nor in his son, I found out in you and your sister. Mind you, it took me that long, but it was worth the wait, and I know how to be patient.
                              — You’re repeating yourself Pope, I know this story. I am very grateful for all that you did, all the knowledge I owe to you, but I can’t accept. It’s just… too much! I just want to spend these moments with you.
                              — You just cannot whine throughout all of your existence Cuthbert. You chose to be born here, at this moment, in that family. There is no point in refusing what you have placed on your path.
                              — I’m not whining! It’s just that… I just want a normal life! answered Cuthbert vehemently
                              — Very well then. The face on the Lord was resolute despite his writhing in pain. You will have to see how much life is nothing meant to be normal. In the meantime, I would appreciate your letting me die alone.

                            Viewing 20 results - 1,301 through 1,320 (of 1,581 total)

                            Daily Random Quote

                            • Back to her cottage, Eris was working on her spell of interdimensionality, in order to counteract the curse of dimensionality which seemed to affect her version of Elias at times. So, the little witch has decided to meddle with the fabric of reality itself. She could hear the sneers of her aunt. She was raised by her ... · ID #7390 (continued)
                              (next in 14h 04min…)

                            Recent Replies

                            WordCloud says