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  • The world didn’t end that day. But maybe it should have, or at least the endless list of senseless rules, silly obligations, half-compromises and clever-yet-too-often-outdone-by-stupidity ploys to defeat them. Stuck in the middle of his twelfth failed attempt at booking a flight for the Land of the Long Cloud, he found himself dreaming of buying… well, no— ... · ID #2870 (continued)
    (next in 09h 43min…)

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  • #735

    The last words of the stranger were still resonating in his mind. Franiel was feeling a bit drowsy and he had the odd sensation of being looked from the inside. A smile illuminated the face of the man.

    You are the weirdest man I ever saw. he said in a sigh. When he realized what he had told his guest, he blushed with shame. I’m sorry, I wouldn’t mean…
    Hahahahaha. The man was slapping on his legs. Hahahaha, my dear Franiel, you don’t know how close to the truth you are. I appreciate when one speak his heart.

    Franiel couldn’t say anything. He was aware that he should have been feeling shameful, but the laugh of the stranger had dissipated that convention. He was just feeling in harmony with his creation. This last thought surprised him. His creation? He’d been told that the gods created all that is on the Duane, her sister the Murtuane and their ghostly sister the Phrëal.

    What was in the nectar? I’m seeing things. He frowned. Something in the surrounding objects, the mossy rocks and the earthly path, the grass and the insects flying or crawling around. The colors were different. Your eyes… they are… blue…

    The stranger was still smiling, not saying anything, and though Franiel was feeling as if he was communicating him important things.

    Something leapt from behind a tawheowheo, making the nearby dandelion seeds fly away silently.
    The creature was barking and Franiel jumped on his feet, making the chalice fall in the dust. It was similar as a mountain wolf, but smaller. Black and fuzzy. And it was running toward him.

    Don’t be afraid of Moufle, he’s my long life companion, he’s been following me in my exploration for quite some time in a form or another. He makes a lot of noise, but he knows his friends.

    Moufle was trying to lick Franiel’s face. All the love he had felt a second before was shaded by the need to keep the animal away. Not that he was dangerous. The stranger… what was his name? He didn’t tell him his name. Franiel was too shy in his normal state to dare ask directly. But he could at least relax as Moufle was now occupied with his master, who spoke as if he’d read his mind.

    I am not his master, you see. he was fondling his companion. He’s just choosing to come with me.
    He kept silent for a minute, snooting around.

    By the way, my name is Leonard.

    #732

    Elvira and Boris were knee deep in mushrooms when the strangers appeared asking for food. Visitors were few and far between at the isolated old wooden house, but it was with mixed feelings that Elvira greeted them. It would be wonderful to have a little conversation, some news of the outside world, but this was the busiest time of the year and she hardly had a moment to spare as it was.

    However, she greeted them amiably enough, and invited them inside. Come in, come in, come in! she said, Would you like a cuppa? Are you hungry? There’s some reindeer stew left over from last night.

    Zhana’s stomach growled loudly in response. Would I ever! I am STARVING! Zhana beamed a smile at Elvira.

    Well, sit yourselves down then, if you can find a chair that’s not covered in mushrooms.

    Elvira suddenly had an idea.

    Are you two in a hurry? Would you stay a few days and help with the mushroom packing?

    Zhana looked at Sanso, who nodded. A few days with plenty to eat before their long journey, and a few provisions to take along with them would be perfect.

    Of course we will, we’d be delighted to stay and help, Zhana said to the old lady.

    Splendid! Boris will be so pleased! I’m a great cook, you know, if I do say so myself. As much food as you can eat in return, eh? How does that sound? Elvira smiled at her guests. My, my, girl, what a wonderful complexion you have! she said, peering at Zhana. Like a summer peach!

    Zhana blushed happily, and Sanso beamed.

    #731
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      It was taking longer than expected for Sanso and Zhana to find food, and they were weak with hunger when they came across the big toad. There was plenty of water; gurgling brooks and rushing streams crisscrossed their path, crystal clear with icy cool snow melt from the summer thaw. The’d found a few cow berries along the way, and they had chewed a few mushrooms but they wanted something substantial before setting off for the other side of the world. Sanso had left a trail of flourescent green cave lichen, to show them the way back to the cave entrance, which was to be their portal to Nishanti’s place.

      Maybe the toad will show us the way to find food, said Zhana. Ask him, Sanso!

      You ask him! replied Sanso.

      No, YOU ask him. Zhana was inexplicably feeling shy.

      Sanso chuckled goodnaturedly, and agreed to ask toad. He stood there silently smiling for some minutes, and Zhana began to wonder just WHEN Sanso would oblige. Her stomach was grumbling and growling and she was starting to get impatient when Sanso turned and strode purposefully off to the left.

      What the…..snapped Zhana. She rushed after him, angrily shouting OY! Her foot caught on a root, sending her sprawling face down amongst the mushrooms.

      Sanso turned, and couldn’t help but laugh. The more he laughed, the angrier Zhana became, causing Sanso to laugh all the more.

      AAAH Ha Ha Ha! AAAHHHH Ha Ha Ha HAAAAH! OOO Hoohooo! If you could see your face all covered in blue mud and red and white spotted mushrooms, you’d laugh too!

      Zhana started to cry.

      There there, dear, Sanso said kindly, trying hard to stop laughing, and wiped the mess off the girls face with an old rag he found in one of his pockets. Did you know that Siberian blue mud is a much sought after beauty treatment in some places? This little mishap will do wonders for your complexion, you know.

      Will it? snivelled Zhana, who had been preoccupied of late with with her adolescent skin.

      Yes! There is no such thing as an accident, you know.

      Well, where were you rushing off to, anyway? You promised to ask toad where to find food, and then without saying a word, you dashed off and left me!

      Sanso looked perplexed. I DID ask toad!

      No, you DIDN’T, retorted Zhana.

      Sanso stared at her, wondering what was the matter with her. Then the penny dropped, so to speak, and he realized that Zhana was more familiar with verbal conversations, and had been unaware of the silent communication between him and toad.

      Zhana, most of our conversations aren’t in words, you know, he explained gently. Listen to the non-words.

      Huh? it was Zhana’s turn to look perplexed.

      You do it all the time you know. You are simply not paying attention.

      He winked at her, and smiled. Come on! The food is this-a-way!

      #726
      Jib
      Participant

        Going back to work on this bright Tuesday afternoon, Yann was looking at his shadow. He had had a hard morning, not because of the tons of work… it was a rather light day, not because of the harshness of his colleagues, they were all easy living people… well except his boss that made him think of Darth Vador at times… a strong threatening aura, feared by everyone. Though he never bothered Yann actually.

        He was having the weirdest feeling of appreciation of the shape of his shadow.
        He liked it.
        It was the shape of an adolescent, his fluffy hair and relaxed silhouette. Not worrying about the future, not thinking about the past. Just enjoying the warmth of the sun in this not so cold winter day.

        His attention was quite centered on himself, he was aware of much more stimuli than he had been used to, and it had been overwhelming. Especially concerning his ideas of how to get information on certain subjects or how to explore things. He was used to closing himself from the outside when he was focusing on his work, or on what he was passionate. Lately it had been 3D modeling, and Yurick had expressed many times the desire to help him, and he had been received quite harshly.

        No wonder he had imagery of server non-receiving data at work. It was quite clear actually. Clearer and clearer. Even his dreams that he had once considered to be quite obscure where simply so concise and precise. Dreaming about the ring primitive in the 3D software, it was dreaming about its own attention, focused on the outside, he was trying to reduce the inner radius of the ring to make a plain disk, and he wasn’t able to do it properly, he was forcing.

        Well actually he had done quite well, so centered on self he had been today…

        How he reacted was so different from how he would have reacted a few months ago. Now he was just appreciating the movement, the experience of this overwhelming centeredness…

        During the afternoon he got news from his friends Finn and Dory, and he had a good laugh. It was messages sent the day before. He wouldn’t have appreciated them then, but now he was so enthrilled by what they had written with Yurick. Another pure moment of appreciation to add to his experience.

        And now, it was news from their friend Malika who had decided to move into a new house. A taupe House, located in the Island City or Wilton Manors. The house had a tree behind it, and she was sure it was a dragon lair, with a mommy dragon and an egg! and many little playful dragons.
        It was planned for the week end. The moving in, not the hatching…

        Yann promised to be here in spirit and told her friend Malika that there was a small dragon connected to him in the herd.

        #1898
        TracyTracy
        Participant

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

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

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

          #2113

          In reply to: Snooteries

          The SnootThe Snoot
          Participant

            Dear Anne Horny Smooch

            The Snoot is FLOVE as thou all :heart:
            The Snoot dreamt of its Back that was on its Frontside… It was moving freely and though in the usualness of the waking reality consciousness is commanded so to speak to rearrange itself into things… that are no more than the expression of different aspects of thyself.
            Since the attention is not so absolutely focused in the Snoot area of consciousness the energy of FLOVE is flowing freely and it is not constricted.
            Thus thou canst absorb the red fruit knowledge and know. Know that you are back and front at the same time and appreciate thyself inside out or outside in as is thy creature cat when she lick herself.

            With Mych FLOVE and sn :bounce: :bounce: tches

            The Cutie Snootie

            #709
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Zhana was so happy that she started to sing .

              That’s beautiful! exclaimed Sanso, Sing another one!

              So Zhana sang some more.

              Whoa! said Sanso. Weirdo singing!

              Oh! Zhana looked crestfallen. Don’t you like it?

              Hahaha, Oh yes, I love it! Please, sing some more.

              Well…….oh, alright. And Zhana sang for Sanso…..and sang some more……

              Where did you learn to sing like that? asked Sanso politely.

              Oh, haha, Zhana laughed and blushed. Granny used to sing like that. Zhana sighed wistfully, remembering her grandmother. If only they hadn’t had to kill her when she got too old to be useful.

              Sanso closed his eyes, feeling a song coming to his own lips from somewhere deep inside him.

              Sanso suddenly felt sleepy after all the strange singing, and lay down on the mushroom speckled forrest floor and drifted into a strange dream of mice and birds and a topsy turvy world.

              Zhana wasn’t really tired, after all, she had only just woken from her sleep when she met Sanso, but she lay down beside him and after awhile she drifted off. She had some strange dreams too.

              #2112

              In reply to: Snooteries

              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                :yahoo_rofl:

                AHEM ……..

                Dear Cutie Snootie (I take it this is how you like to be addressed?)

                Thank you.

                Yes …… :face-plain:

                I am going to take my cleaning aspect to one side and tell it what you said. Free the flow of my back and neck! I will command it imperatively. Well, I think it was highly intuitive of you to know that THE KEY was my back and neck. You are fantastic Snoot. I FLOOOOOOOOVE and appreciate you and in doing thus I FLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE and appreciate myself also, and thus the whole of the world and even Mabel.

                I bought some red fruit today, I hope you are fully recovered.

                sincerely and anonymously
                A. N O N Y M O U S

                #1688

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                Jib
                Participant

                  I was speaking about syncs with agent Flove…

                  eschraiel: did you see the sync with the dog?
                  franci_free: am just reading your synch
                  eschraiel: haha :D
                  franci_free: i was thinking i had noticed dogs a bit yesterday
                  eschraiel: wow interesting
                  franci_free: firstly a little poodle outside the supermarket, we sat next to it for a while and petted it
                  franci_free: i would not usually do that
                  eschraiel: hehehe what’s apoodle?
                  franci_free: and someone showed me a photo of a HUGE dog they had taken
                  franci_free: hang on
                  franci_free: http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/littlebritain/images/gallery/poodle.jpg
                  eschraiel: hahaha I got that :p http://www.cloggie.org/pictures/proggold/web_Alpaca%20Poodle.JPG
                  eschraiel: it’s like a lama :p
                  franci_free: oh wow
                  eschraiel: yours is cuter ;))
                  franci_free: well that is a llama synch too then
                  eschraiel: really?
                  franci_free: because yesterday i thought “my goodness what a lot of llamas i am hearing about” and ther is one across the road too
                  franci_free: with the circus
                  eschraiel: http://www.cloggie.org/proggold/2007/12/07/note-to-googlers-its-not-a-bloody-poodle/
                  eschraiel: again a hoax apparently :p
                  franci_free: ahahahaha
                  eschraiel: I’m having a lot of hoax :-?
                  eschraiel: is that a clue?
                  eschraiel: it’s fun hoax though

                  And so we decided to create a detective agency specialized in hoacsynchs… agent Flove and me as the Snoot

                  Well Eric just told me that hoax is an ox so we can find a bluebull clue :-?
                  We are specialized in blueOx!!!

                  #703

                  So you have requested audience… a deep voice, hoarse as a water’s torrent running and jumping on a river bed smothered with pebbles, asked from the darkness.

                  Midora was not afraid of the darkness. As best as she could explain it, it was the void of creation, where everything came from, and where all was stripped of intrinsic meaning. It was from this place that she could reach for the answers.

                  She knew this place, she felt memories swirling around, as uncatchable as a swarm of short-lived sparkles born from the reddish embers of a dying fire.
                  In this lifetime, she was only a eleven year old girl, but she was as old as this voice within her. There was a time where she was playing with that voice, a time where her being was not yet, and yet a time which was in her future.
                  She was pure consciousness in that dream time space, and yet, she was feeling more comfortable with physical symbols around herself. So she focused on one of the symbols that she knew would help her stabilize her vibration, and in doing so, all the small particles of golden light around her started to swirl and coalesced into a dream body.

                  She was in front of a cave, in a mountainous area. This body provided her a slowing down of the stream of information that came to her, and she could manipulate more efficiently the interaction with that huge presence she felt. The precipitous rocky environment was a symbol of that steadiness and slowing down and also, for her benefit of her beliefs in that acquiring such information might be a difficult task.
                  Now she had identified it, she could more easily dispel the obstacles on the path to the cave. The cave of course, was her symbol for reaching into her deep inner nature. And the darkness was only a fitting blank canvas for herself to project and translate the energy interactions.
                  All of that she knew, as it was knowledge embedded into herself that she could more easily access into this trance-like state, in her room in that location in space and time of 2112 in New Venice. And she knew that also for she was taught by her parents, Bart and Oscar, on how to access it.

                  The voice was inside the cave. And no sooner had she thought of it that she was finding the whole place morphing into a vast room built into the rock, in the middle of which a majestic golden dragon was slowly breathing.
                  She had translated the vast energy as that of a dragon, but she knew when she felt into it that it had possible variations, one of which being that of a she-phoenix, of various sizes, where sizes where symbolic of its age and wisdom.

                  You may call me Naasir the dragon grinned at Midora. You are right, in a sense, you can consider yourself being born from me, though in your true form, you are equally august and splendid as I am. You will, in time, have access to that form, again. But for now, I can provide some answers to your questions. The only thing is… Are your questions up to the challenge? he added with the most benevolent smirk his wide toothed grin could convey.

                  Midora pondered for a moment, beholding the perfection of her translation of the energy. Each scale on the body of the dragon was a work of art. His half-closed eyes, with an amber shiny center, and teal border were equally mesmerizing.

                  :fleuron:

                  — What is the significance of these books I have inherited from my parents?

                  As you know, this place is the place were significance fades away, or radiates, depending on the direction in which you look, only to be replaced by fulfillment. Your… books hence, have no significance, I would say, for me at least. What do you want to know about them?

                  — They were passed from people to people, and as far as I understood, they started to be imprinted with these people’s stories, starting from my grand-parents Indy and Cuthbert. But there are still blank pages inside them, and no seeming order from one page to the other. I think that’s why my grand-parents grew tired of it.

                  Continue…

                  — What I mean is… I feel attracted to them, and yet I don’t understand how they work…

                  These… are not mere books as your ancestors understood them. In fact, they were crafted by a distant civilization, not denizens from this dimension in which you are presently focused, but travelers, with whom you can still interact by means of this device. When the “books” traveled into this dimension, they retained their initial properties and functioning, but their initial shapes were translated into something as close as you could understand so that you would allow them to appear into your reality. This knowing might help you unravel their true nature.

                  Another thing. Books are energy deposits, in your reality. There was a misunderstanding in that they were thought to be able to liber or to free your memory by imprinting it into the pages, but memories are alive and not separate from you. They live as you live and change them. So, the books are still being written, and that which you can read is the part of the book which is the most probable story in which you choose to insert yourself, so as to explore it. You can alter these probabilities, even if you might doubt it, but as you chose them, they are much a part of your design of your reality, that which you chose to explore. In short, a complete book means the end of your exploration, and prompts for a disengagement for you to continue other explorations, and on the contrary, a blank books means a boundless realm of probable explorations.

                  — Can you tell me why there are two of them?

                  They are more than a couple. These ones are the only known ones that your ancestors happen to have found. Most of them have been destroyed over time in this dimension, as their possibilities were heavily cloaked. They are all linked together, as you will find out. You may gather some answers in finding Badul…

                  And with that, Midora was once again floating in an intermediate state hung between space and time, longing for her physical body. She woke up strangely energized…

                  #702

                  There was a tantalizing scent of wildflowers and meadowgrass in the still cool air of the cave, and as Sanso rounded a bend in tunnel a gentle breeze ruffled the folds of his robes. He quickened his pace, gladdened by the welcome promise of an adventure outside of the endless labyrinth. The air felt cool and warm at the same time, and deliciously fresh and clean as it wafted towards him, and with a feeling of immense joy, he heard a snatch of birdsong.

                  It seemed like many long years that he’d been trudging around in the gloom and the stale air of the caves, although he suspected it wasn’t as long as that. Time played tricks on him, he knew that, while he was wandering around in the darkness. He’d missed Arona, and that strange baby, when he’d first set off alone again, but not for long. He knew when it was time to move on, and so he’d left them. From time to time he wondered if he’d encounter them again, and knew he would.

                  A shaft of sunlight spilled into the tunnel and Sanso stepped out into the light. The breeze was fluttering the birch leaves high above him, as he squinted up at the pale blue sky. Grinning happily, Sanso took his time adjusting to the light. He sat cross legged on the soft green grass, feeling it springy beneath his hands. Hundreds and thousands of red and yellow spotted toadstools stretched out as far as he could see, carpeting the forrest floor with polkadots of colour.

                  Sanso looked down at his hands. The creases of his skin and under his nails were engrained with reddish dust, and he wanted water more than anything, gurgling bubbling fresh clean water. He stood up, and shook his robes a bit, and set off into the woods.

                  Intuition told him which way to go to find water. He marvelled at tiny flowers, and scampering insects along the way, squashing fungi beneath his bare feet which oozed up through his toes with little squeaky noises.

                  A rabbit ran accross his path and stopped momentarily to stare at him and Sanso laughed out loud.

                  Oh! Who’s there?

                  A girl in bright flowered skirts was sitting on the grass in a clearing just ahead, rubbing her eyes.

                  Whoa, I must be dreaming, she said, and rubbed her eyes again. She peered at the apparition in indigo robes, with skin the colour of tobacco and wild matted hair. Am I dreaming? she asked Sanso.

                  Perhaps, perhaps not, replied Sanso, who wasn’t really sure. I may be dreaming myself. My name is Sanso, anyway, what’s yours?

                  Zhana, the girl replied, Well, Uncle Grishenka calls me Zhanochka, but I…but I….I hate him, and I’m not going back! And much to her surprise, she burst into tears.

                  Sanso was momentarily non-plussed, and wondered what to do next.

                  Well, dear, if you don’t want to go back, why, then don’t go back! He wasn’t quite sure what the problem was; after all, he’d been wandering for so many years on impulse and whim he hardly knew any other way to go about it.

                  I don’t know where to go instead though, Zhana said tearfully. The long dark cold will be here again soon, and I must have shelter somewhere…..who will have me, besides Uncle Grishenka?

                  What long dark cold? asked Sanso. It seemed light enough and warm enough here.

                  Oh, my! Zhana was astonished. You ask me what long dark cold? Where have you come from? How is it you don’t know of the long dark cold? Oh! Are you from Nishanti’s place?

                  Zhana stood up in some considerable excitement. Can you take me to Nishanti’s place? Oh please say yes!

                  Well, I, er, um…..well, I suppose so. Well, yes! Sanso didn’t want to let the girl down, although he wasn’t altogether sure he knew where Nishanti’s place was. But he was game to give it a try, and the company of the girl would be a welcome change.

                  Tell me about Nishanti, then, Zhana, and what her place is like. Sanso was hoping a few clues might ring a bell, perhaps.

                  Nishanti has been my friend for as long as I can remember, Zhana said. We dream together mostly, well, Zhana blushed, Uncle Grishenka says it’s all in my head…he say’s it’s nonsense….

                  Zhana squared her shoulders and carried on. Sanso had a kind look, and nodded encouragingly.

                  She hardly wears any clothes, and her skin is warm and brown. The sun always shines and the sky is always deep blue in her place and we play outside all year long. There’s always warm ripe fruits to eat, not turnips and noodles, colourful juicy berries and plump pink fishy things, and there are flowers all year long, and the water isn’t frozen, we can play in the water and it doesn’t turn our hands blue…..

                  Ah, the other side of the world…hhhmmm…..Sanso rubbed his whiskery chin thoughtfully.

                  Ok, I can’t promise we can find Nishanti, but I think we can find the other side of the world. But first, I’d like to find some water, and perhaps a little fresh food?

                  Zhana whooped with delight, and flung her arms around Sanso. Yes, yes!

                  #1681

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Some interesting development came today, as I was brooding a new comment about the twins and their books, and other sorts of interactions surrounding this.
                    I found out a new movie, based on a series of children books: Spiderwick, which features twins, an old book, and strange creatures.
                    Of course, there is the old mansion (in New-England, US), and the name is reminiscent of Wrick too. Not to mention the “spider” which is linked for me not only to the spiders on the island(s), but more so to Francie’s last discussions and post on her multiply blog which I happened to have found only yesterday, though I remember Francie mentioning it at the time.

                    The creators of these books are a writer (Holly Black) and an illustrator (Tony DiTerlizzi), so this is also a collaborative work, and probably a hint for success :face-grin:
                    By the way, with all these “holy” jokes recently, “Holly Black” seems like more than just a nice perspective :yahoo_yin_yang:

                    The website of the movie is also quite interesting to navigate inside, very well done…

                    #694
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Uncle Grishenka scowled. The fire had gone out and the kettle was cold. He sat down on the stool beside the grate, his grizzled chin resting on his stained shirtfront, his clumsy gnarled hands hanging in his lap. Nothing in his dull slow brain suggested to him that he might light the fire himself. Zhanochka hadn’t kept the fire going and so there was no fire.

                      Grishenka continued to sit, and scowl.

                      #1888
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        “He ran down the heart of the old midway, where the weight guessers, fortune tellers, and dancing gypsies had once worked.
                        He lowered his chin and held his arms out like a glider, and every few steps he would jump, the way children do, hoping running will turn to flying. It might have seemed ridiculous to anyone watching,This white-haired maintenance worker, all alone, making like an airplane.
                        But the running boy is inside every man, no matter how old he gets.”

                        —Mitch Albom
                        from the book “The Five People You Meet in Heaven”

                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~

                        “I wish that you could see me when I’m flying in my dreams.
                        The way I laugh there way-up high. The way I look, when I fly.”

                        —Patti Griffin
                        “Chief”

                        #684

                        « … local time in Sydney is 5:55 PM, temperature on the ground is 55°F (23°C)… »

                        Seems like five fives… a hazy Mavis emerging from a heap of plane sheets said, still with her yellow hand-knitted blindfold on her eyes, probably for herself more than for the benefit of her bedazzled neighbours.
                        As no one was answering, she continued her monologue while the man near her was looking embarrassed, avoiding the gaze of the cackling woman.
                        You know, I’ve always got lots of fives in my life, I was the fifth girl of my family, born May 5 th, “Mavis”, my first name’s got five letters, and the coincidences go on and on, once you think of it, that is positively amazing, I daresay. German say five is “fünf”, so for me, it’s fun and play, when I put that in perspective… Still better to have that kind of outlook on these coincidences as they are piling up so well, don’t you think…

                        Still getting no answer from them, she continued imperturbably.

                        Oh, great, we are arrived… That journey was exhausting, not that I lacked any sleep for that matter, but you know, my legs got all swollen, and my bladder is playing tricks on me… Good thing I had these socks, you see, the vendor told me they were perfect for long-haul plane trips, not that I can see any difference anyway… Worse thing, if you ask me, was that rushing through the Japanese airport… I would not have made it without the help of this Spanish couple. Man was kind enough to push me on a trolley to the boarding gate… Now, where is this lovely couple,… hope they didn’t leave without me. It seems we all go to the same destination, how funny isn’t it? An angelic spa in a heavenly island… Sounds lots of fun… I can’t wait to see my friends here!

                        Mavis was now standing on the seat of the plane, to get a better outlook on the back of the plane, for any chance to see Jose Maria and Paquita, while most of the other travelers were in a rush to go outside, already reaching for their bags and switching on their mobile phones. Truly, as stout and short as she was, standing on the seat hardly made any difference, for she was barely able to see past the high seat, but she finally got what she wanted.

                        WOOOHOOO! I’M HERE! she started to wave at the couple, busy reaching for their belongings.

                        #683

                        The landscape had become oddly unfamiliar to Franiel. He had walked this path to the Village at the foot of the mountains maybe a half a dozen times, yet he felt certain he had never before seen these surroundings. He had never seen this patch of bright yellow flowers with their golden centers, nor this gnarled tree whose branches dropped down over the path causing Franiel to stoop in order to pass by. He stopped, hesitating, should he return the way he had come, find where he had left the path? Yet even while his mind was telling him what he was seeing should not be, he knew in his heart that he had taken no wrong turning. He touched the trunk of the old tree, and asking for wisdom, felt it’s reassuring energy calm his anxiety. The way ahead, though unexpected, felt friendly.

                        As fate would have it he had not journeyed much further when he spied a fellow traveler coming towards him on the path ahead, a small figure swathed in colourful robes, wild and dishevelled locks of hair protruding exuberantly from beneath his brown leather cap.

                        Greetings Fellow Traveler, cried out Franiel as he drew nearer, My name is Franiel. I am travelling from the Monastery of Margilonia to the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon, and foolishly I appear to have mislaid my way.

                        The stranger chuckled merrily. Greetings Franiel, Indeed If that is your destination then I fear perhaps you are more lost than you care to admit. He motioned towards the grassy bank at the side of the path. Perhaps we might sit awhile and talk, for I know that I for one, could do with a rest and bite to eat.

                        A splendid idea, replied Franiel, sensing magic in the stranger and enjoying immensely the unexpected diversion.

                        So my friend you are a long way from the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon.

                        Am I indeed? mused Franiel, How could that be, for that was where I was heading, and as far as I know I did not step from the path, and yet here I am.

                        The stranger chuckled again, and his laughter was so infectious that Franiel joined in, not really being able to identify the source of the amusement, yet feeling all the better for it.

                        And how important is it that you get to the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon?

                        I am on a mission from Aum Geog, the newly appointed Abbot, replied Franiel, as he pulled out the chalice from his pack, to have this cup inscribed.

                        The stranger reached out for the chalice, and studied it intently for a few moments. He took some of the water from his own water bottle and poured it into the chalice. Muttering a few words which Franiel did not recognise, the stranger closed his eyes and held the cup up as though offering it to the Gods. After a few moments he took a sip from the chalice. A look of delight crossed his face, As I thought! he chuckled.

                        Now drink, my friend, he said offering the chalice back to Franiel.

                        This is the sweetest Nectar you carry in your bottle ! Franiel exclaimed in surprise after taking some sips.

                        The stranger chortled, It was plain water from the river I passed on my travels. I gather from your surprise that you do not know the magic of this chalice?

                        Franiel shook his head. Well to be honest I have not really given the chalice much consideration, only to briefly wonder at my task. My mind has been more occupied with other matters. Franiel looked at the chalice in his hands, And what more can you tell me of this magic?

                        I can caution you to be wary my friend, I would not be so quick to show strangers you meet on your path this cup, for be assured there would be some who would be keen to possess this. He frowned for a moment. What are the words which are to be inscribed on this chalice?

                        Franiel pulled the sealed letter from his pack, and, feeling only a moment’s hesitation, opened it; “Bibere venenum in argento”, he read haltingly, then shrugged. I confess I don’t know what that means, I have not been taught in the old language.

                        It is a curse of the Ancients, it means “drink poison from a cup of silver”. Seeing the puzzled look on Franiel’s face the stranger went on to explain. The magic of the chalice is to transform. I uttered words of love and the water transformed to sweet nectar. Had I whipered words of hate and fear, had my intention been to kill, I could have changed the water to bitter poison. The power though is not in the chalice, it is in the intention of the one who holds it and who knows of it’s magic.

                        Franiel shook his head, bewildered, I can find no sense in this. Why would Aum Geog curse the cup in this way?

                        The stranger turned and looked at Franiel, his clear blue gaze piercing and direct, I don’t know this Aum Geog, neither do I know his heart …. I know that you are the bearer of the cup now Franiel. Make sure you are asking the right questions.

                        #682

                        Looking at the clearing, where there was seemingly only a little girl on the trunk of a cut down coconut tree, Akita found himself puzzled. A girl, alone, in that dangerous jungle… Might it be a trick from his old enemies? The giant spiders were vicious, and could play some tricks of mind on humans, he’d witnessed before he’d run into Kay, who was granting him some sort of protection. But as far as he knew, they couldn’t do anything that elaborate. They were rather primitive in their projections, and were more inclined to slimy nightmarish visions than cute little dark-skinned girls, however untidy were her clothes…
                        Besides, Kay seemed to trust her. And she could see him too. Usually, humans other than partners of spirit dogs couldn’t see them, but at times before they reached puberty, children were able to get glimpses of them, Kay had explained him.

                        Apparently either the girl was a simpleton, or she had an impossible chance not having yet encountered the spiders, being as she were, pretty oblivious to what was around her, and speaking to herself or imaginary friends, while fiddling with a small device the like of which Akita never had seen in his life. The thing was making beeping noises much like a radio emitter, and his heart leapt at the idea that she might break some god-sent transponder found in the wreckage from which she surely had been a miraculous survivor…
                        Kay, who had been observing and talking to the little girl, came back near Akita in a blink.

                        — Don’t worry for that device, it’s just a game…
                        — A game? It seems quite sophisticated for a game…
                        — It’s my Gamegirl Advanced, said the girl, without detaching her gaze from the tiny screen… But the batteries will soon be dead, she added with a lovely pouting face.
                        — Better the batteries than you, retorted Akita. So who are you? You can call me Akita… And I guess you’ve already met Kay.
                        — I’m Anita, but everybody calls me Anu.

                        She put the tiny thing at her side, and smiled broadly at Akita.

                        — Wow, you have such strange clothes, it’s like you’re out of one of those black and white war movies that my father used to watch…
                        — No wonder, little girl, we are at war.
                        — I’m not a little girl, and I don’t think you’re right. We’re not at war!
                        — That was probably well intended of your parents to hide you the truth, but thing is we are. I’ve been stranded on this island for months now with these loathsome creatures, and all I can suppose is that these spiders are secret weapons from the Nazis.
                        — Oh, Nazis? Like in Indiana Jones! Anu started to giggle…
                        — What do you mean? So you know of Nazis?
                        — Sure, my great granddad fought them on the beaches of Normandy, that was many years ago.
                        — I don’t understand… Do you have any idea of what’s going on? Akita asked Kay…
                        — Grwl… All of your human quandaries don’t usually make a great deal of sense to me, if you ask me, but I guess her friends would probably know more…
                        — Her friends? You mean, her imaginary friends?
                        — Oh they are not imaginary, Anu and Kay chorused.

                        — Let me try something, Kay said.

                        And the ghostly dog form contours started to wobble like a poked cube of jelly, becoming a single ball of phosphorescent ectoplastic energy that started to rotate around Akita. Akita’s vision, disturbed by the movements started to blink at a more rapid rate until his peripheral vision started to show some distinct coloured St Elmo’s fires. They were four he could count, at least for the closest ones. At time they overlapped, and when he was focusing on his peripheral vision, he could get more and more stability in these visions.

                        Kay had stopped, and was again crouched near Akita.
                        — That’s all? Akita asked in dismay…
                        — Now you know the trick, answered Kay, almost shrugging…

                        — It’s really easy, said Anita, beaming at a disoriented Akita. Also… Yuki told me that apparently time is considerably slowed down on this island. And while a month passes here, ten years pass in the world we come from…

                        #677
                        Jib
                        Participant

                          Yann was feeling very tense since a few days. He had difficulties focusing on his inner self.
                          Everything was distracting him and pulling his attention on the outside.

                          Well a many changes were happening at once in his life. And one of them was Yurick’s arrival in 11 days.

                          Yann had changed.
                          Or rather he was expressing differently. He had felt that thinking about being something or someone was generating an absolute about self…
                          Self is not something and it is not one quality or several qualities… self expresses continuously and it can express all.
                          Hahaha, and currently it expresses tension… well what am I to do with all that?

                          He sighed and felt relaxed, looking at a bird perched on the top of a blue car. The bird was making small jumps, and this movement was sort of massaging him inside. All the tensions were released. Yann smiled and thought of his friend.

                          #678

                          With all these alternating aches in his body, Yurick’s legendary patience was easily worn out these past few days.
                          Of course, the news of his very near-future moving with Yann, which had finally come to be, was to be something he wanted to dance on, and rejoice and laugh with a delightful ravenous chuckle —or something a little less scary, for that matter…
                          But these seeming dysfunction of his body (of course they were seeming, it was only a transformation… like a baby growing its first teeth… and who said it was to be a bed of roses for the caterpillar, under the pretext that it was inside a warm silky cocoon?) were making him very sensitive to lots of things. Other people’s energies for once, even if buffering them was becoming easier now…

                          A loud ring from the telephone… Again, that woman looking for Océane. “There’s no Océane here”, he’d said, with the congeniality of a civil-servant who would have been disturbed two minutes before the morning coffee break.

                          Having hung up, Yurick was thinking… Those wrong numbers may be important messages from my essence.

                          And all he could think of… was that Yuki had definitely fingers too big for the dial buttons, especially if he was looking for Ogean!
                          Anyway, in a few days time, it would be another one’s trouble to pick up those calls.

                          #1653

                          In reply to: Synchronicity

                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            Tracy is making the most of not being able to post and asked me to post some synchs for her:

                            Tracy: thanks for posting the comments!
                            Francie: okay, i will do that other one
                            Francie: you love it eh?
                            Francie: it appeals your head counterpart side
                            Tracy: lobe what?
                            Francie: making me post for you
                            Tracy: hahahaha yeah its like having staff

                            :fleuron:

                            Francie: i took george to vet today for check up
                            Tracy: hows he doing?
                            Francie: well while we were all discussing vaccinations, he nosed open the door and went careering around the vets
                            Tracy: hahahaha
                            Francie: down to visit all the sick dogs. Like a crazy thing
                            Tracy: oh how funny. Oh I bet they all loved it
                            Francie: oh yes hilarious
                            Tracy: I kept thinking today that any distraction, was taking Bills mind off the pain
                            Francie: yeah
                            Tracy: and so was George!
                            Francie: ahahahahha
                            Tracy: ahhaah I synced with george!
                            Francie: hahahah!
                            Francie: yes
                            Tracy: would you write that in syncs under my name please
                            Francie: okay

                            :fleuron:

                            Francie: what does a jewel on the forehead signify?
                            Tracy: A flock of coots is known in the US as a cover
                            Tracy: um, not sure, like an Indian thing?
                            Tracy: why?
                            Francie: some of my frogs had jewels on their foreheads, and then i watched a movie with jewels on foreheads
                            Tracy: is it a Sikh thing? Or is it the chakra
                            Francie: don’t know
                            Tracy: which chakra is that or is it the third eye… What colour jewels?
                            Francie: tarotteachings blogspot
                            Tracy: ralphmag
                            Francie: there is another 8 synch in that tarot one
                            Francie: oh wow, a magazine synch Tracy
                            Tracy: she understands, with a profound and inherent wisdom, that the universe is a magical and abundant place.
                            Tracy: thats cool huh… What?
                            Francie: the link you gave me: read the last paragraph
                            Tracy: I was thinking about the magazine yesterday… WOW F, the last paragraph!
                            Francie: yes!
                            Tracy: would you post it on syncs for me?
                            Francie: yes
                            Tracy: please
                            Tracy: I missed that bit, I just noticed the ittiel
                            Tracy: tille
                            Tracy: title

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                          • The world didn’t end that day. But maybe it should have, or at least the endless list of senseless rules, silly obligations, half-compromises and clever-yet-too-often-outdone-by-stupidity ploys to defeat them. Stuck in the middle of his twelfth failed attempt at booking a flight for the Land of the Long Cloud, he found himself dreaming of buying… well, no— ... · ID #2870 (continued)
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