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  • #246

    Huÿgens was not much of a cat person.

    He liked his dogs because they were solid, loyal companions, and he could count on them to take care of his herd of langoats.

    Langoats were a kind of three-eyed manic woolly and horned creatures, with a big sensing tongue, attracted to every new sound, or scent, or colour, or texture… well almost anything new that came before their eyes (when said eyes were not covered by thick layers of wool that is). And as their memory was short too, all kinds of things were always new to them.

    That was why the dogs were extremely useful in channeling their movements; not that the langoats would have hurt themselves, because they were very able to provide for themselves, and jump from the top of a cliff without suffering much injuries. But they could very well loose all notion of their physicality and pop in and out of the fabric of time and space.

    When they came back, because they always did magically come back, even after months of wandering, they would at times be reconfigured into another creature, and that would be pointless applying too much effort in trying to bring them back to their previous form, because it was said, in relation to their stubbornness that once a langoat, always a langoat

    Huÿgens had already lost some, especially during the shearing season.

    And he had found himself back once with a cumbersome hippoliphant, and a bouncy shulimeek instead of two langoats.

    Anyway, langoats wool was a very precious asset, highly sought after, as it could very easily bind with magical spells. Most of the clothes made for royalties were actually made with langoat wool, and it was also said that some enchanters had used langoat wool to make magical tapestries that would shapeshift, and reveal things to their owners.

    So losing a langoat was not small concern for Huÿgens, and he had to be careful during the shearing season to leave some mops of hair to cover the three eyes of the beasts, so as to curb their insatiable thirst for discoveries.

    But these days, Huÿgens had been very concerned about his herding dog Fjutch. Fjutch was a fluffy black dog he had found when it was still a puppy. He had trained it to become the head of his pack of dogs, when he had noticed the old rheumatic Thöm was taking the puppy under its wing —because the old faithful dog was knowing that it would depart and would reconfigure into a new form, but would not allow that to happen, not before he could have found a reliable companionship for his beloved master Huÿgens.

    The healing properties of the langoat milk seemed to had done wonders once again, and Fjutch dis-ease was probably just a false alarm, but it had reminded Huÿgens how much he appreciated his dogs, every one of them, every day he was with them.

    As for the cats… Illi, that was her name, had decided to come back to the cave, and he was showing her the way to the place where he had found her. He had asked BelleDora to pack a few things for her. He could not give Illi the beverage she was referring to as “coffee”, as that plant was not found in their region, but in compensation, he gave her a gourd of langoat milk, because she seemed like she would probably need some.

    When he left her near the hole, he had some tears in his eyes when Illi hugged Fjutch very tenderly, as if the dog was reminding her of something dear. Illi after a moment hesitation, where she was like speaking to herself and not knowing what to do, finally hugged Huÿgens too, thanking him for everything he had done.

    And off she was… free and unfettered as a gripshawk

    ***

    When Illi had finished arguing with Illi about having her hug the big man, while this was not manners of her kind, she sighed as she saw that the opening she had first thought was here (yeah, because I fell in there! she said), her senses where telling her that it was now closed…

    How quaint said Illi for herself.
    — Well, as a matter of fact, it reminds me of something, said Illi F. There was that delicious gentleman, John Lubbock who said “What we see depends mainly on what we look for” and somehow it seems perfect.
    — I don’t know any Grubbeck, grumbled Illi, a bit irritated that the hole, which was there before, wouldn’t be here, now she needed it.
    — Lubbock was such a nice person, said Illi dreamily… Perhaps I could just try to have a peek inside the cave, if you let me.
    — What?! Do again your wizzy wooey thing and I’ll strangle you! Don’t know how I would do it, but I’ll do it!
    — Oh, you are so sluggishly gloomy! That was just to help you…
    — Mmm, sorry for that, I was a bit upset, said Illi. What could you do?
    — Just focus on the inside, and carry us both inside… But actually you would have to leave your body here, and we’ll probably see other things that do not belong to this place, but heck! that should be fun, Illi F said grinning widely.

    They were interrupted by some munching sounds and ruffling heavy breath.

    — What the bejeezus is that?! hissed Illi the cat (who didn’t even know how she knew so funny sounding words as bejeezus)
    — Can’t you see? That’s obviously a dragon eating some bushes… How strange… replied Illi F airily.
    — A WHAT? I HATE DRAGONS!
    — Ahahah, relax, I was just pulling your leg.
    — That’s not funny.
    — Well he has funny colours by the way. Pinkish purple I wouldn’t dare to wear in London streets.
    — That’s REALLY NOT FUNNY!
    — Why so? You can’t see it anyway…
    — And what if he sees me? Dragons are vicious creatures.
    — He’s too busy eating these funny berries, and will probably collapse of exhaustion once he’s full.
    — A chance! A vegetarian dragon!
    — OK. Shall we try to find an entrance in the cave with my method, or do we ask the dragon? He looks well-mannered by the way.
    — Oh, by the eyeballs of the Mighty Shrimp, you tell me…
    — No, you choose.
    — No, you.
    — You…
    — Ooooh, bugger off…

    #224

    Grandad! Grandad!, called India Louise to Lord Wrick, running in the old manor, her footstep making creaking and loud noises down the windy staircase.

    Hilarion Wrick was seated in his favourite armchair, dozing after the hefty meal prepared by Nanny Gibbon, the cat Manfred on his lap.

    Raising an eyelid, his cheerful wrinkled face smiled at the little girl.

    — And how can I be of assistance, dear little one?

    — Grandad, this book is full of wonders, but at times it’s like some characters have their own life, and I don’t always understand what they do… In fact, she added thoughtfully, I don’t understand them most of the time…
    — Hahaha, laughed the old Lord, but they have certainly their own lives, as they are living in your imagination. What can I explain to you?
    — Well, let me think.

    India Louise took a moment, and asked again

    — For instance, this woman who just run in the cave, she seems to meet many people here, but I am confused. Is she dreaming, or are they real?
    — Well, as a matter of fact, let me express to you that they are all real, even if you think that she dreams them. However, I am understanding of what you are saying, and I shall acknowledge your perspicacity. These characters are not all from the same areas of consciousness.

    Here, we will explain for the reader that these books were not unknown to Lord Wrick who had spent lots of time during his youth playing with them. How they were lost and found again is the subject of another story, and we will not divert the reader’s patient attention for much longer on this issue.

    — Areas of consciousness?

    — Yes, you see, let me explain. That individual that you call Dory, she is in a physical world. But she is aware, to an extent, of other realities that overlap her own reality. Just as her story overlaps your own reality my dear one.

    — And Illi? Who is she?
    — This one is also Dory, but another personality of her, in another time. She has just passed away, quite recently. She is beginning to slowly become aware of that, and she connects with other of her personalities, and at times blends with them, like the other Illi, the cat-like creature, who is still in the physical reality of Malvina’s world.
    — Mmmm, this is quite intricate…
    — Hahahaha, yes, it seems so, but it will not be so puzzling when you don’t try to attach your current limited perception to this story. This story is you my dear. You are the story.
    — Well, and Sanso, and Georges then, are they dead or what? How come Dory can see them?
    — These ones are special, they have mastered the crossing of the Worlds, and can move through them. They move differently though. Sanso comes from a lineage of an ancient tribe of Zion, and had learn from them how to activate some portals, but only through the physical world of Dory, in their own time. He is not yet aware that he can also move through time as well, or even through other Worlds —worlds that he has no conception of yet.

    Georges is more consummate in that art. Their meeting is not coincidental. You will see that.

    — Thank you Grandad, it’s becoming a bit less confusing.
    — Just flow with the story my little one, don’t hold on too much, or you will find it too difficult, and you will stop to find fun in it.

    #212
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Fiona wandered slowly along the road to the supermarket in the Village, deep in thought, pondering a recent dream. In her dream she had been talking to someone from the power company. He was very chatty. Eventually he asked her if she had any issues with her power service. In her dream she had started to focus on some electricity issues she was experiencing. Well as a matter of fact I do, she had replied. At which point the man from the power company had abruptly cut the call short.

      In her dream she felt a little put out, although resolved to let the power company know later.

      The message of the dream felt clear enough, it was her focusing on the difficulties which cut her connection. Yet this presented Fiona with some difficulty, because she dearly loved to analyse even when this did mean focusing on not so pleasant things, though she had been aware for some time how this mental work would deplete her energy.

      Actually there was almost a feeling of grieving in her. To let go of this part of her felt like losing something warm and comforting in it’s familiarity, like a well worn and loved article of clothing. It left her wondering a bit about her own identity.

      On the way back home, laden with bags of shopping, Fiona saw Jarrod.

      Jarrod was lying on a park bench conversing loudly to himself. Well, Fiona mentally corrected herself, to someone I can’t see anyway.

      They just don’t understand reality he was saying vehemently they just don’t get it.

      Fiona smiled to herself, noticing Jarrod getting a few concerned looks from the well dressed locals. With his bare feet, unkempt hair and long beard he would stand out even if he wasn’t shouting at the top of his voice. She decided to try and sneak past herself, he looked like maybe today he would not recognise her anyway.

      FIONA!

      She turned back.

      Hey Jarrod

      Fiona, here’s the thing. Here’s the question okay. Should we swim up-stream or down? Fiona what do you think? Should we head for the Source or the Ocean? Up river or down? We’re on the edge of a new era Fiona. So what will it be, the shallows or the rapids?

      Before she needed to come up with an answer Jarrod’s attention was diverted by the shopping bags.

      FOOD! Great is that for me Fiona?

      #188

      This morning, Fiona and Quintin had a small impromptu chat —or rather, prompted by the story they were all weaving, that Archie, the puppet black panther, had been telling them last week-end that it was a magic connection between all of them…

      Quintin: Your story was great!

      Fiona: Thank you :) So was yours.

      Have you written any more since I last looked at the story?

      Quintin: no, I’m not that much inspired… I even considered to wrap in up in a way, but seeing you were all drawing so much from it, I think I will leave it open ever after…

      Fiona: no, wrap it up if you feel.

      I have drawn what I wanted. I will go and blow up the cave if we don’t finish it :)

      Quintin: Ahahaha! Don’t restrict yourself ;)

      Fiona: When you started the Malvina story, did you have an idea where it would go, or did you pick that one because you had no idea?

      Quintin: This one nagged me because there were many people I felt behind it and I did not know how to get them to show up and make their presences known. And I felt that it was loose enough too, to allow people to jump into it; and there was your initial interest in the picture ;)

      Fiona: The endearing dragons…

      Quintin: Yeah…

      But I had strictly no idea about the rest. It was just a bet, on luck…

      That’s funny, because I had a strange impression of a little girl yesterday, in a futuristic city, named something like Janice , and it was like she knew now what she wanted to do, and it was something similar to that, something like creating worlds for other people, in which they could have fun, or heal, or explore things…

      Fiona: And did she have any impression of what form that could take? Like books, or games or what…

      Quintin: No, it was much more “real” in fact…

      Fiona: you know like the card-captor game which I suppose is interactive, so real

      Quintin: Yeah, perhaps a bit like that, yes; or like creating a ball of energy in which people can be drawn and experience as they will. It’s only a translation, but that’s the idea… in a way, that’s very similar to a game or a book, but only that it just feels totally “real”

      Fiona: So a little bit like I have done with the story, to resolve something

      Quintin: yeah, exactly, or with your paintings

      Fiona: It can be really useful to take on other personas to do that, even like in drama type situations, being someone else…

      Quintin: Yeah, people can unleash their imagination.

      And I think there are still lots of things that we can expand in this universe in fact, not only related to the cave…

      Fiona: such as? eggsamples?

      Quintin: You said it! The eggs and relationships with dragons, all the magical artifacts or creatures. Didn’t you want a baby dragon?

      Fiona: Yeah, I told you I did, but you just said some riddle!

      Quintin: Did I? That’s not like me ;)

      Fiona: Ahahhaha! It is you to the core

      Quintin: LOL, damn me!

      Fiona: Well, that is a bit strong, but …

      Quintin: Ahahahahah. I said you would have to earn his trust? (or hers, for that matter)

      Fiona: I can’t remember the eggsact wording, I think I had to work for it though, like you weren’t just handing out dragons on a plate

      Quintin: It could bound with you very strongly and help you unravel your unknown magical powers. It’s not just a creature, it’s a complex personality, you cannot just take it like a puppy. There is a sharing between the two…

      Fiona: So are you going to allocate baby dragons to people or what? Or shall I just go and find an egg that no one knew was there :)

      Quintin: Ahahah, no, they will not be allocated, they will choose their own partners

      Fiona: Ahahaha, one minute you say it is my story! And now you are back in control

      Quintin: Ahahaha, the story has a willing of its own too…

      Try to do what you want, it’s not a matter of control ; it’s just you’ll know what clicks and what does not…

      Quintin: And actually, I don’t think everyone will be interested in dragons…

      Fiona: How does a dragon help one learn magic powers?

      Quintin: It’s just because there is an openness between the two; let me find something for you, that Elias (you know, Michaela’s partner), has told to me and Yann, when we had them on the phone last month.

      Elias : I would express to you that, as you focus your energies with each other, and you allow yourselves to merge and feel into each others’ energies, you may in actuality each discover some obstacles that the other may not necessarily be aware of yet, and you can share that with each other, and therefore facilitate your interactions even further.

      Fiona: And how having a baby dragon could help unleash our magic powers then?

      Quintin: It helps because it reinforces your trust in your own abilities to connect. It’s not directing, it’s a sharing and exploration for both of them; that’s why they are picky. As you would be picky too, knowing you would share together all the darkest corners…

      Fiona: I am not sure if i have dark corners ;)

      Quintin: it was a metaphor :D

      Fiona: ahahahhahahahahahah

      Fiona: I know, so was mine :D

      Quintin: ahahahahah

      Fiona: I was thinking I feel really accepting of myself

      Quintin: Yeah, that’s the point in the little adventure before you meet it.

      You have shown your trust in yourself and in your abilities, and your self-centeredness, which is essential, for the dragon doesn’t want a frail personality. Because he drops his defenses too when he shares and bonds.

      Fiona: Well I think it sounds scarey now, what if no dragon picked me…

      Quintin: There will be instant recognition. And you don’t “need” a dragon actually, that’s what is important: it’s a catalyst, nothing more, nothing less…

      Fiona: True.

      Quintin: Like Arona managed to sneak into the cave without giving the answer to the riddle (egg-sitingly) because it mattered not to her, whatever the outcome, she was directing of herself.

      Fiona: I felt like I have pictures now to assist me. I link strongly to pictures as a quick reference when I start to feel something like a negative emotion, for instance I may start to worry about how I am going to have enough money, or whatever, and I could quickly link to the spider picture

      Quintin: you mean, you create an imagery, right? That is something which I like in your stories and emails; even though it is not necessary to create imagery, it’s always so entertaining, like having these funny creatures pop in the cave!

      Fiona: Ahahahaha yes

      Quintin: And also, in creating imagery, it helps you seeing it in a more neutral way

      Fiona: I suppose it is just a quick trigger for the desired belief. I can link in quickly with the child, when I start to feel left out, for example.

      Quintin: yeah, beliefs as an alphabet or a palette, neutral, but that can create words and sentences or images. And the imagery of the child was very similar for me, to that of the playfulness picture

      Fiona: Yeah, I know… That’s what I said to you with the playfulness picture

      Quintin: Of course, you know :)

      Fiona: That I related most to the figure of blue hat… and big feet

      Quintin: Ahahaha, stomping on the poor key-fish

      Fiona: Nearly…

      Quintin: Have to go now, thank you for this enjoyable conversation

      Fiona: See you! :)

      #163

      Hells Bells muttered Arona to herself , this had better not be some sort of a test that dragon is putting me through

      As she stepped forward into the darkness of the chosen path, she had a sudden sense she was walking off the edge of a cliff.

      Arona had been practising quietness for a long time. The journey had been lonely at times and offered her many opportunities to practise her skills. There were so many parts of her wanting to have a say, discuss, analyse her every move, so that she would become paralysed and unable to move at all. In desperation almost she had learned to still the voices and find that part of herself she most believed herself to be. The part which believed in the existence of magic.

      Well done, and shall you fly?

      Arona hesitated. It was that voice again. She was not sure if this new voice came from her own thoughts, but she felt not.

      Great, she thought, perfect time to finally lose it. Stuck in a dark cave with a troublesome dragon.

      Shrugging her shoulders she went still inside and moved her body forward.

      Leormn (with two little dots above the “o”) felt deeply humbled when he saw the extraordinary bravery of Arona.

      It was hard for the proud dragon to consider, but he did wonder if sometimes he went too far with his joking. After all for him the cave was a playground, clay he could mould at will, or at a whim. Perhaps one could even call it a work of art, he thought proudly.

      But he did realise that for the girl, who was newer to the ways of magic (although showed the most tremendous potential he grudgingly had to admit), he realised it represented something far deeper, a dual potential, the hope of light, but also the possibility of the deepest darkness.

      For a moment he even considered revealing his whereabouts.

      She is fine , Malvina answered his thoughts, she loves the challenge. It is what drew her here.

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