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  • #298

    The City, year 2257

    Janice had just awoken from a strange dream, where she was watching big round cabbages being harvested in what looked like Quintin’s father garden. They were all firmly rooted on a black irrigation pole across the garden, and people were using strange devices to turn them all delicately and pick them afterwards. In the dream, there were black puppies too, sleeping in the straw of a kind of hut nearby. And she had seen another creature, and had been surprised first because it was unlike anything she had ever met, even in dreams. It was hairless and brown as soft mud, and was hiding in the neighbour’s garden. Then it had crossed and came to play with her…

    Janice was lost in her thoughts strolling on the way to the common dome, when she met Rodney, her father’s friend.
    They had been recently trying with her father Jacob, and also Qixi to connect with their shifting focuses of the Ancients, two centuries and half before their time.
    Some of them, they had found, had been playing a sort of game of story-telling and clue-sowing… (Janice was laughing as her father’s friend, the scientist Arkandin, always insisted on seesawing instead)

    Perhaps her dream was telling her that the crop was ripe, and it was time to harvest some from it. She told her dream to Rodney. All at once, he was quite excited and they started to feel they wanted to chat more freely. So they went into one of the Medraw Caps that was available and soon imagined a comfortable environment for themselves to explore more.

    Janice could hear Al or Quintin complain about how things were getting confusing.
    She tried to convey to both of them that they could be excited about it, as it was expanding their understanding, but they weren’t very receptive.

    ~~~

    Somewhere Al was saying to Becky
    — The more you try to fix it, the more confused I am
    — Hahahahah yes! Becky was answering, I guess so! Ahahahah! Al, what a fabulous dance of confusion we do… The Confundo Tango
    — Ahahah, yes!

    Al started again to moan:
    — So who’s dead, who’s the shapeshifter? Who’s the human, who’s the cat? :-??

    (Rodney was laughing, as for him, he could accept the confusion as much easier, letting him free to wander around!)

    Illi was a woman, a shapeshifter who shape-shifted into a cat, then, she died. Becky was saying (Rodney added mentally “Now, she is disengaged” as he knew that “death” was a confusing word.) She was an archaeologist
    — Okay, that’s cool, that’s what I thought, Al acquiesced. Then thought back of what was said of her and wondered… Anyway, it will probably find a perfect answer …
    Becky nodded
    — I got lost myself when two Illis appeared, and a grip-thing as well
    — Because I didn’t want the grip-thing to be dead! Al couldn’t help but laugh. That would have been too easy, like wiggling out. Not using your imagination within the context of objective imagery to sort out “things”…

    ~~~

    While Rodney and Janice were seeing that their other focuses were kind of stuck in their explanation, they had time freeze and both decided to come back to their “now” to start from their understanding.
    A funny thought had come to Janice, that she shared with Rodney.
    — Oh, the funny thing you know, about Becky having written to Sean
    Rodney nodded. Janice continued:
    — It just appeared in my mind just moments ago, at the same time you (well, Rafaela) inserted into the story of Malvina. That Becky would have been asking Sean something, and that perhaps it would have helped him talk to his father in the future.

    — Well, that Sean is SUCH AN ENIGMA! bumped Rodney a bit excited by the implications.
    — What do you mean? asked Janice, who just remembered that Sean Doran has a cousin named Dorean.
    — Who is he? Where is he? was asking Rodney now.
    Rodney was having a hard time remembering what had been inserted yet in the story about him.

    So Janice manifested the Wrick family tree in front of them, so that he could see better. She started by manifesting an acorn, then threw in on the grass, and it sprung forth in a little sapling with signs hanging from its branches.

    — Well, it’s all in the script, answered Janice, he’s Lord Wrick’s son.
    — Oh boy, I am in trouble again for not keeping up with the facts! Rodney sighed, and laughed…
    Janice laughed “So that you can surprise yourself again!”

    Rodney felt thankful for the sumafiness of Janice who was always prompt to display helpful hallucinations and reminders.

    Janice stopped the growth of the family tree for a moment and started to comment it.
    — See, in Becky’s time of the reality play, Sean is Lord’s Wrick son, and has just lost his wife Margaret, and got his two young children around their 10s.
    — When is Becky’s time then? Rodney wondered, I hadn’t though of that…
    Becky’s time for the reality play is around 2033…
    Then Janice had the tree grow again, and sprout more branches from Sean’s children:
    — …Now, Sean is the grand-father of the twins, except than the twin’s time is around 2057 if it had not changed yet. It’s so carefully woven, but it’s fun how it effortlessly came to fit in.
    TRUST AND ALLOWING AND GOING WITH THE FLOW cried Rodney and Janice in unison, in the realisation of how well all this was.

    Rodney was beginning to remember it all.
    — I just remember the part about Sean, so he is still a bit of a mystery
    — Yes, absolutely
    — We don’t really know do we why Hilarion didn’t mention him
    — Oh, there’s also the Margaret newspaper thing… Janice fumbled in her memory to find the proper link that would display the image of the newspaper cut just at the right of the family tree. Adding with a wink “with more dates to get bearings”
    — Ahahah, I’d love to have pocketfuls of ball bearings said Rodney who manifested a pocketful to distract him from the load of information. OH YES! he cried, I had forgetten about this! What an incredibly HUGE story this is…

    Rodney was squinting his dream eyes
    — So, Sean was into humanitarian effort after 2001…
    — His father actually I think, said Janice. He was a bit too young.
    — Oh OK, I misread, that’s hard to read!

    Then, all of a second, Rodney erupted in an uproarious laugh
    AHAHAHA, I had just forgotten to de-hallucinate these pince-nez spectacles! Now, it is much easier to read!
    Janice was laughing so hard, she thought she would shatter the hallucination with the wobbles of the soundless sounds.
    Then she added:

    Sean is born around 2000, a bit before.
    — OK, maybe he went to help the Tuaregs, Rodney was accessing some information now. Maybe he was the one who put the mummy in the locked room that India found.
    — You know I had something funny in store for the mummy mystery, Janice couldn’t help but laugh again. I imagined we could have inserted Old Manon, coming down to secretly drink from her old malt whiskey’s flask, and finding them messing up with her old dear stuffed cat…
    — Maybe the mummy was the same one that Dory saw in the oblong hole in the ground outside the cave, Rodney was still accessing flickering images swirling around his head. And Sean was there helping the Tuaregs and moved it to safety.
    Of course, years previously, Illi Fergusson, the archeologist had buried the mummy there too for safe keeping.

    Now, Janice was hooked:
    — Was it where Illi learned about shapeshifting tricks from the old tribe?
    Rodney noticed Janice’s funny remark and laughed before continuing:
    — The Tuaregs were conducting secret coleslaw experiments in the desert. In combination with sound and irrigation techniques, they were going to run the entire Sahara into a broccoli field.

    Janice was amazed at the cabbage “coincidence” and irrigation stuff with her dream of that morning. Of course she knew there where probably mis-interpretation of the imagery coming from Rodney’s visions, but something made sense.
    — Around which year? she asked
    — Arrggh I don’t know!… Then, taking a breath of dream air, Rodney said “1923”. When Illi learned shape-shifting trick, 1923.
    — It makes sense, said Janice who was now thinking of other dispersed informations about Illi Fergusson.
    — Yes, she learned from Dashine Ashara… Although who that is, I don’t yet know.
    — Wow, said Janice. She had felt a connection with the “da’sheen” sound. She continued: somewhere, Illi Fergusson has said: “my parents were aristocrats”
    — Yes, answered Rodney who was accessing again, they were, and they knew the Wildes .
    — And it was said too: “[…] a nurturing presence that reminded Illi of the maid she and her parents had in their cottage in South Africa”… like her parents were traveling a lot.
    — Ah, South Africa! Illi’s parents emigrated to South Africa with Sir Abingdon Portfellow, an elderly scholar on ancient artifacts and embalming.
    — Seems she knew John Lubbock too, said Janice again, reviving old data banks of information. Dates seem okay, so if she was around 30 in the Tuareg adventure, she could have met him.
    — Wow, said Rodney, this is even more interesting…

    “But we may sit at home and yet be in all quarters of the earth.” Janice had just summoned the voice of the naturalist and archaeologist. Rodney applauded “Lubbock said that? cool quote!”.
    — Yes, like Illi’s quote, which was from him “What we see depends mainly on what we look for”. I wonder if that’s one of your (Illi’s) overlapping focuses, said Janice

    — Well, Illi didnt stay long in South Africa with boring old whatever his name was, Rodney pursued
    — Yes, she was young with her parents. They were traveling…

    They were both amazed at the magical cooperation they were doing at that moment. Janice would have loved to share all of that with Qixi and Jacob, but probably their energies were present at the moment too, though not focused here.

    She then remembered something else:
    — Oh, and there is something else! Quintin’s dream of the woman detective. Let me fetch it she said, summoning now Quintin’s memory to talk to them.
    … by night, near a museum in London, in the 1920s. She was investigating a case of a strange disappearance near a small replicate of an Egyptian pyramid that had been put here for display. There had been an exposition of ancient artifacts in the museum, which had been recently unearthed by a team of archaeologists and graciously lent by Egypt’s officials. Strangely enough, the woman detective feels linked to the story, and is probably Dory
    Date fits again, she said in awe.
    — Perfect! said Rodney. She was of course Dory too, but in that focus she was Illi Fergusson… he slowed down, then said No! wait! The detective was another one of my focuses. The archeologist who stole the mummy for safekeeping was Illi.
    — Hmmm
    — Hmmm
    — So you are both the thief and the detective, the one who creates mystery for yourself, how interesting, giggled Janice.
    — Yes, and not only that Janice! Rodney was taking a mysterious air… I am the mummy too!

    Janice bust out laughing imagining Rodney in bandages. Yes, of course!
    Then, she had a name come with that: Apsh’un Shet she said, very self-absorbed.
    Now, that was Rodney’s turn to burst out laughing.
    — “I am not sure about that!”
    — Doubting my insights… mmm, how rude… Janice frowned then laughed again.
    — If you call me that, I may have to make you out to have a speech impediment
    — Sounds a good Egyptian name for me though, seems it means “Light of the Dawn
    — Does it? Oh that sounds nice…
    — Well, in some Egyptian dialect, yes. She was a Princess…
    — Hahaha! Reminds me of Aspen Shit. Rodney doubted Janice could be serious about that name, but Janice was now the one to be accessing some information.
    — Bit bossy Princess
    — Which dynasty?
    III rd, answered Janice, who fumbled in links of consciousness to find some timeline to project for them.
    — What year?
    Janice projected the timeline below then said
    — I’d say around 2657 B.C., in Ancients way of telling time.

    They both marveled at the splendid team work they had been doing, and hoped that the other focuses involved would be able to get some parts of their insights too.

    Rodney was seeing something else
    — There is also, a very fascinating link between Tassili in the Sahara and Egypt which is a mystery AND there is a connection with Egypt and Scotland too…
    Illi the gripshawk comes from the mysterious land of the Sands, south of the map fragment
    — We may unravel more than we think… Illi is an other dimensional focus of the Illi essence…
    — Yes she is. She is a connection too, being “lost” in the land of dragons after hopping through traveling portals…
    — Exactly
    — And they communicated because they are helping each other
    — Which is why she doesn’t always ‘fit’ into this reality’s energy configuration
    — And they have some difficulties at times with translations of other dimensional stuff
    — Yes! resulting in confusion!

    And they both laughed again, looking at the great tapestry of clues that was woven before their dream eyes.

    #292
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Becky, if the truth be told, was astonished at the lack of logical comprehension of the other script writers on her additions to the reality play. And not only that, they seem to have missed completely the Key Point of her recent addition to the unfolding saga. She sighed.

      She’d thought Tina might have cottoned on to it, she was always banging on about keys, and sand, but no, she was too obsessed with her ‘alien invasion’ to even notice. And what was ‘reverting back to her own true self’ all about? How ‘real’ was that? In all of Reality Becky had never known an ‘absolute true self’… Reality According To Becky was like… well, like sand….shifting, moving, changing, ever forming and reforming… why, a single grain of sand could even be in more than one place at the same time, shifting and forming and changing in many realities all at once…

      Becky sighed again. Whoever in all of reality would want to contain all the grains of reality sand inside the confines of one measly sandbox?

      #287
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        India Louise and Eugenia momentarily forgot about the gold locket and walked over to the exceptionally long trunk. India dropped the locket into her pocket as she investigated the exterior of the trunk, which didn’t appear to have an opening. It seemed to have been made around whatever it housed, and permanently.

        ‘How strange’, mused India, ‘it must not be intended to open, ever!’

        ‘That makes me want to open it’, said Eugenia. ‘Let’s! Let’s open it!’

        Eugenia was rummaging in the desk drawers for a suitable tool.

        ‘Wow, look at this, Indy’. She held a heavy black letter opener up to show India, with an elaborate carved dragon on the handle. The dragon had glittering amethyst eyes, and a serpentine line of coloured stones along its back.

        India shivered involuntarily at the sight of the dragon. Horrid nasty creatures, dragons, she muttered, resisting an urge to cross herself. ‘Peace be with you, now bugger off’ she whispered the spell under her breath so Eugenia wouldn’t hear her and think she was a silly goose. Horrid scaley slimy stinky reptiles.

        ‘You go first, Genie, try and prise the trunk open.’ India didn’t want to touch the letter opener, but she was rather curious about the contents of the trunk.

        Eugenia was a strong and capable lass, with a practical methodical mind ~ unlike India Louise ~ and before long the first piece of wood came splintering off.

        ‘Nice one, Genie, well done.’ India said as Eugenia wrenched off another few planks.

        ‘Oh MY GOD!’ ‘Jumping Jehosophat!’ ‘What the……’ ‘Holy Moly, Genie, what the….’. After a few initial exclamations, the girls were silent, the hair standing up on their arms.

        They were looking down at the shrivelled features of a dried up body, covered in bits of disintegrating faded fabric.

        ‘A mummy! It’s a friggen mummy!’

        #275

        Oh well bugger it, said Arona, I have had enough of this. Perhaps we had better just play it by ear if no one really knows how this thing works.

        Which is really, although not in so many words, if I may be so rude as to remind you, what I was suggesting, said the charming Sanso, rather rudely.

        Well yes, that is true … but whatever, let’s not argue, shall we just get going? Are you ready Mandrake? All of a sudden Arona was feeling unaccustomably energised and assertive, and was totally fed up with herself for wasting time so much time sitting around. This was causing her to be a bit sharp with the others.

        You know my problem? she asked, rhetorically, although of course Mandrake felt compelled to offer a reply.

        Hmmmm and which one would that be?

        Ahahahah Mandrake, laughed Arona, well the one I was thinking of was that I think too much. I need to be more like our friend Sanso here. I mean, what does it matter where we end up, it is all a big adventure anyway.

        Well I for one, would prefer to end up somewhere in the vicinity of food, responded Mandrake.

        Sanso wasn’t really listening but was gazing at the sabulmantium with a look of awe and muttering to himself. This really is a remarkable find. I have never actually used a sabulmantium before but I gather that one uses it as a tool to focus their intention, which is a crucial component of the magical creative process. Tremendously powerful tool and when used with awareness by the pure of heart it has great potential.

        Oh great! shall we just get going then, said Arona picking up the Sabulmantium, and next thing you know, after a little bit more wandering down a few more tunnels, which isn’t really that interesting to write about, our three intrepid adventurers found themselves gazing in astonished delight at a most wonderous sight.

        #79
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          These are excerpts from Yuki’s diary, explaining some of the details of the experiment called — Malvina’s story —.

          Note: for the reader not familiar with all the names here is a quick reminder:

          • Araili > Yann, Írtak, Sam, Jacob …
          • Armelle > Fiona, Arona, Tina, Qixi …
          • Rafaela > Dory, Illi, Becky, Rodney …
          • Yuki > Quintin, Al, Janice …

          September 12 th, 2007

          Today, an experiment has been launched by Quintin. Time will tell if it will bear some fruit, but the idea sounds good.
          Having people join in a story telling, and see what happens, what are the “lessons” one can draw from this…

          Armelle, Rafaela and Araili are already on the starting-blocks, though Quintin is not quite aware yet.

          I can hear some thoughts: Let’s say for the moment that there are no rules. We will see what prompts the desire for having rules…

          September 13 th

          Some of the people familiar with Janice and her friends’ adventures have already joined in with much enthusiasm.
          This first comment seems very promising.

          Right now, it feels easy and fun.

          Quintin seems to think that everything is very straightforward.
          The magical world with the cave in one part, separated from the “real” world. (Two Worlds, and he thinks that will be enough to content Rafaela, ahaha, how presumptuous)
          The first he sees as a representation of what psychologists think of as “subconscious”, and the other being the conscious, physical part.

          But of course, he thinks he knows better than that. He calls the first one “subjective” rather than subconscious, because it’s a translation of subjects which unfold in many related objects in the “objective” or physical world.
          That’s a good point, though a bit distorted. It would be better to say Malvina’s World is a translation of the subjective, in the manner of a Heroic Dimension.
          But the thing is, that he missed the point in thinking one World is more “real” than the other.
          We’ll be having some fun soon…

          First remark… The second comment of the story has been interrupted abruptly in the middle of a sentence. That is interesting. We will urge Quintin to leave it as it is, despite his feeling of it being awkward.
          We will appeal to his imagination.
          It seems he has heard the suggestion.

          September 14 th

          For the most part, the story starts to get much involvement. Lots of energies are being projected into it, and with every adjunct, each participant’s perception stretches to accommodate the changes and smooth out the bumps in their own sense of continuity.

          But as I expected, some challenges seem to appear already.
          Is it raining or not in that world?
          The question seems simple, but it is very profound and Fiona seems to struggle a bit with it, as is Quintin. The question frame itself [“that World”] shows where the difficulty lies.

          He seems to avoid the discrepancy and pretend that he has not seen it. Mmmm, avoiding the obstacles… that will very soon come right back in front of you dear Quintin, for Dory is quite playful.
          At least Fiona has been challenging Dory for not paying attention… Armelle’s ineffable loving ruthlessness!
          How will it unfold?
          Rafaela seems to be delighting herself as though she’s preparing some mischief, but Dory struggles in the “back”…

          September 15 th

          Dory is indeed very playful and her imagination is unrestrained. I extend much appreciation to this focus of Rafaela, especially as Quintin has to stretch his imagination to make things “fit”.

          Quintin is still avoiding the issues that appear sporadically and prefers to stay focused on his own perception of the story… Careful Quintin :face-smile:

          Yann joins the fun —objectively, that is, for Araili has been present already since the very beginning.

          September 16 th

          Halcyons days…
          My dear friend Archie is answering some of Quintin and Yann’s questions.
          Something starts to dawn on Quintin. But his mind is on other matters.

          He understands that the energies of the writers are melding in writing the story, but he still tends to think that they blend completely.

          September 18 th

          Quintin has been drawing some of the characters of the story. It’s interesting.
          He had good insights, as Yann will tell him later that his clothes today were exactly the same as the colours he had drawn.

          Characters drawn:

          • Mavina, Leörmn the dragon and weaszchilla, Írtak, Huÿgens (and Fjutch), Arona and Illi (the gripshawk)
          • Malika, Quintin, Yann, Fiona and Dory

          Interestingly, Fiona resolves her issues in her cave.
          Dory too, but she did not need the cave to do this.

          September 21 st

          For Quintin, the story seems to lose all common sense, as some characters move from World to World. You could have expected that Quintin!
          And Dory pops in and out, in her mind, in her dream state, or in future timeline mixed with present or past one.
          Quintin will soon realize that he himself is doing this constantly, though he does not register it.

          But the worst thing for him is that there are bleedthroughs in between Worlds. The Reality Times newspaper was brilliant Rafaela, a perfect trigger for the beliefs that the Worlds are closed and impermeable to each other!

          Archie has been answering new questions about that story and this had been quite interesting for all of the participants.
          There is much for them to digest from the realization that each of them had been creating their own versions of the stories through their perceptions. And that they were each having their version of the story, drawing from each other’s input, like a conductor of an orchestra incorporating some instruments.

          Of course, some things still matter, and one of the point of the story is also to discover these.

          September 22 nd

          Quintin has been drawing new characters.

          Characters drawn:

          • Båd Al’Guz (Bådul), BelleDora, Buckberry the dragon, the twin dragon eggs, Archibald the parrot, Sanso the Wanderer
          • Illi Fergusson, another Illi that Quintin has tried to sneak in as a bait for Dory, with hints that she is disengaged (or “dead” in common vernacular) and merges with others of her focuses…
          • Jacqueline Bleomelen (Nanny Gibbon), Lord Wrick, his great grand children the twins Cuthbert and India Louise, Manfred, William P. Jobsworth the painter

          A new perception trick: Dory felt relieved upon seeing the moth feelers of BelleDora.
          She had at first thought they were whiskers, which was not Quintin’s intent…

          September 23 rd

          Quintin seems to have connected to a map drawn by Lord Wrick, when the old Lord has started to document his great grand children travels.

          Quintin had tried to put some annotations on this fragment, but he doesn’t yet completely understand that his perception of this World, though accurate, is only valid in this present moment, and may change at any time.

          Up to now, here are the names he could find:

          • North: the Icy Lands, and Dragon Cemeteries
          • Center: Goldfindely, homeland of Arona, connected to the Warring Kingdoms of Lan’ork by the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer. The Isthmus of the Dragon Head seems to lead to Malvina’s cave and hideout. Mount Elok’ram is pointed as the highest place of the World yet discovered. Three main rivers are drawn: in the ancient myths of the people of this land, they represent the three Daughters of Ghört, weavers of men’s destinies: Tibreÿa, Uleÿa, and Snimeÿa. Snimeÿa cuts the thread of life, which is shown as the river leads after many meanders to the Marshes of Doom.
          • Far East, North: the Land of Båd Al’Guz, Åsgurdy. A harsh mountainous land of islands and seas.
            Both parts of the World seem to ignore each other till now, as they are separated by the Great Rift, which in the past has deterred many intrepid navigators.
          • South: the Desert Lands. Illi’s birthplace, rarely explored by humans thus unaware of most of its marvels, gripshawks nomadic tribes included.

          When he discussed Arona’s village with Fiona, Quintin had the vision of some dolphin-like creatures, but bright yellow. They are called golfindels and are mostly seen on the northern shores of Arona’s homeland, which is thus called Golfindely.

          #267

          AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA laughed Arona, and then when Sanso kept snorting she laughed even more.

          Mandrake sighed heavily and retreated to a safe distance to sit it out.

          #254
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Bill, the itinerant artist commissioned to paint portraits of the Wrick family, was uneasy. While he’d been staying in the castle with the eccentric family, he’d lost all track of linear time. It had been altogether too confusing, and his head was spinning. Manon the cook had sent a tray up to his room, with a pot of Earl grey tea, and a plate of Yorkshire parkin for his supper, when he’d claimed to be developing a mysterious ailment and begged leave to retire to his room.

            Bill splashed some malt whiskey into his cup of tea. A good long sleep was what he needed, and with a sigh he drained his cup and climbed into bed, pulling the heavy eiderdown up over his chin. He lay there for awhile staring into space, not really aware of his thoughts. An owl hooted from the oak tree outside his window. Twit whoohooo twit whoo hooooooo…

            Bill blinked and then frowned. On the top of the Queen Anne highboy facing the end of his bed was a large carved stone face. How odd, he thought, I don’t recall seeing that there before.

            #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…

            #245

            Captain Bone was packing his trunk. The boat was leaving at noon from the quayside of the fishing village, and the captain was nearly ready to say goodbye to the Sharples family. He’s been happy staying with the Sharples and their unruly brood, but he was a man of the sea, and the salty breezes and rollings waves and promise of new adventures was beckoning.

            The sea mist rolled over the cluster of cottages as it often did in the early mornings, mingling with the aroma of coffee and freshly toasted crumpets. Captain Bone remembered other morning mists from other shores, warm ones laced with cinnamon and cloves, and chilly ones pungent with fishy smells and squalking gulls…… bright sunny mornings with long golden shadows and the endless half light of arctic northern ones.

            The captain closed his trunk without checking to see if he’d remembered everything. Whatever he needed on his journey, he knew he would find. Whatever he left behind, he knew the Sharples would keep safe until his return.

            ***

            Manolo the vet helped the captain onto the boat.

            ¡Hasta la vista, hombre! ¡Buen viaje! Long Tom Bone winked and smiled. As soon as he’d set foot on the boat, he sighed a huge sigh of relief, and all the aches and worries of living on dry land drifted away.

            The Sharples family passed the tissues round. It was going to seem strange for awhile without the captain.

            #237
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Magic is easy peasy
              My hand is sore
              This poem is rubbish
              So I won’t say any more

              Well we must thank the Gods for small mercies said Mandrake, sighing heavily. Arona laughed. Her mood felt so light again, as though something had really, really, REALLY fallen into place for her.

              Up ahead the tunnel widened. Arona gave a small gasp as she saw what appeared to be a coatstand with a black cape standing in the middle of the path.

              My Cloak, she cried, astonished, and feeling sure that the crafty dragon was behind its unexpected appearance. Hmmm, what a mouldy old thing, she thought, as though seeing it for the first time.

              There was a note pinned to the cape:

              I build up castles. I tear down mountains. I make some men blind, I help others to see. What am I?

              Arona hesitated only for a moment. Sand! She said, delighted with herself.

              #232

              A few days after Sam and Becky’s conversation on the phone, they were having a rehearsal.

              Just at the moment when they felt stuck again, despite Sam’s moves, Al and Tina, a couple of friends came crashing into the small theater room, and were greeted by an icy cold silence. “Icy” is an exaggeration of course, said Tina, “it just meant I had to put a jacket on again today”.

              Sorry for being late! said Al a bit uneasy.
              — Oh you and your uneasiness! said Tina. And I’m sure we’re arriving at the perfect time.
              — Oh, well, I’m not sure of anything today, said Becky. I’m sick of being force-fed coleslaw, and rigging down holes for myself.

              A silence was on the scene.

              :fleuron:

              At the same time, somewhere on the deck of his ship, Bådul was remembered of the landscapes of his land. He had not really appreciated them before, but now, he was finding them dear to him. They were for the most part a mixture of sandy dunes, from which at times peaks of icy rocky mountains would stick out. Lately he had felt like one of these peaks sticking out of the sands. The sands were shifting.

              :fleuron:

              Somewhere in Malvina’s cave.

              Malvina had been polishing the last dry eggs that she had found and that would not hatch. One of them had some interesting perfect round shape, and a very transparent shell, and it gave her an idea.

              She asked Leörmn to come.

              :fleuron:

              Quintin’s bedroom.

              [1:01] The clock was saying. Quintin had just awoken from a dream about an elderly woman who was showing him some drawings. These were not actually drawings, but in fact, they were called by the lady “glassart”. It was made, she said, of coloured sands, and would be vitrified by some flame. Quintin in that dream had thought the designs rather crude, but had found the idea interesting, and with great potential.

              :fleuron:

              Leörmn came almost instantly, appearing in a puff of teal smoke.

              Oh, I see… he said, reading Malvina’s mind. And I think I have the perfect sands to go with it.

              :fleuron:

              — Why hasn’t that pirate, Badass…
              Badul, corected Al
              — Whatever, Becky pursued imperturbably, that pirate Baddock used traveling portals to go and look for the eggs? Why the seas? Sounds a bit complicated and with lots of dangers too.
              — Good question, answered Al. Well, don’t want to answer for everyone, but in my perception…
              — Oh, get lost with your “in my perception” thing, that’s becoming tiring… sighed Tina
              — OK. So, for me, they have forgotten much about magic in his land.
              — Makes sense… added Sam dreamily… In fact, I’m not sure after all that Badul is only after gold. I think he has found some old desert dragon egg in a cave lost in his country and hopes to revive it, with the help of the people who still know about magic.
              — Which would explain the quest… said Al
              — Yeah, and he would have hidden that to the rest of the crew, probably… said Tina

              :fleuron:

              Leörmn had now finished assembling the magical artifact.

              — That’s one of our most beautiful magical artifact I’d say, Malvina gleamed
              — Oh yes it is. And how would you call it?
              — Let’s see…

              :fleuron:

              sabulmantium !

              Everyone cracked up at the word that Al had just blurted out. They had decided to have some distraction to alleviate the stress on the play, and they had a fun improvisation game, saying stupid things that went through their minds.

              — Hey! Don’t laugh like that, it’s something very serious actually, said Al tongue-in-cheek. Let me see…
              — Hahahaha, the others continued
              — Well, it’s a divination device, or a sort of compass in a way. I see it as a globe made of glass, with coloured sands in it, and when you focus on it, the sands take all sorts of three dimensional shapes, and become alive…
              — Wow! Tina couldn’t help but say.

              :fleuron:

              Leörmn, as Malvina had been telling him (or vice versa), had put the sabulmantium in one of the tunnels, to a place where he knew Arona would find it, and probably put it to good use for her future adventures.

              #225

              Becky and Sam were chatting on the phone. I want a day off from shifting, Becky sighed.
              I was saying that yesterday, Sam said, bugger off the shift.

              Becky was reading the rough notes for the new dimensional reality play they were working on with some friends from the create-your-own-drama group

              “You eat with me? Come on, sit down and tell me how you got there?” who is saying this, Georges or Dory? Becky asked Sam. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was finding the plot increasingly hard to follow.

              Dory, Sam replied, and then added, In my perception.

              Becky sighed, and then giggled, making a mental note to review the criteria for Day Off Shifting Day… It could be an awful lot of fun, too, this shifting, maybe Focus on Fun Day instead…

              … She needs to be like a host, Sam was saying. Becky hadn’t been listening properly and wasn’t quite sure what he meant.

              Ok, so pretend I am Dory right now and I say: How did you get here Georges?

              Hahahahh I won’t spoil you! Sam laughed, and Dory harumphed a bit to herself, wondering how to deal with the unexpected appearance of Georges. Not that she wasn’t delighted at the surprise visit, and quite charmed by him.

              ‘Enchanté’ he’d said, and she giggled again.

              To Sam she said Oh I thought that would be an easy help. Then she had an idea.

              I will write Georges smiled a big toothy grin, and said ‘I won’t spoil you’

              #215

              After Arona said she was hungry, the energy of Malvina disappeared, and once again Arona found herself alone in the cave.

              She found this quite irritating. They are really bit rude around here, she muttered.

              Arona sat down on the floor of the cave and considered her options. She was tired of the cave and could barely remember what had drawn her here in the first place.

              It had been the music of course. She had wanted to find the source of the music. However for the most part she decided her experience had been rather disappointing.

              (Arona was never at her best when hungry and this was causing her to quickly forget some of the wonderful experiences with the music and the paintings, and take a rather negative view of events.)

              All I have done is wander around dark passageways really.

              And now, to top it all off, apparently things are shifting. In the name of heaven what does that mean?

              AND if one more person tells me to use my magic I will probably scream or something!

              Perish the thought, came a grumpy voice from a particularly dark corner. Your moaning is quite sufficiently bad enough.

              And Mandrake the cat emerged from the shadows and made himself comfortable on Arona’s lap. This is great, much more comfortable than the ground he purred.

              Oh cute, said Arona, a talking cat.

              Cute yourself, responded Mandrake, love your cape by the way.

              (Mandrake was prone to sarcasm, considering it a perfectly valid form of humour.)

              Arona stroked Mandrake’s soft black coat and tried her hardest to work out what to do. It was all feeling a bit bleak at the moment, the ever changing cave, the half light, the heat and humidity… and especially her hunger.

              Mandrake sighed in an impatiently eggsagerated sort of a way.

              Heavens to murgatroyd¹, how can I relax with your incessant thinking? Okay so here’s an easy one for you: what’s the most important thing about magic?

              All of a sudden Arona felt a flash of lightness and a sense of new energy moving within her.

              of course! She exclaimed delightedly, hugging the less than enthusiastic Mandrake, you have to believe in it!

              [¹] Note from the editor: Mandrake being a very educate cat from noble ancestors, some of its speech may be difficult to grasp for the average reader, which was certainly not the case for the astute Arona.
              Anyway, here is some complement on that ‘Murgatroyd’ .

              #195

              Everything started to happen at once. As Sanso sat up, craning his neck looking at the door in the ceiling, a terrific flapping and squalking noise approached from behind him, starting as a distant vibration and rising in an unbearable crescendo as it rounded the last bend in the tunnel. Suddenly the noise stopped as Sanso felt a weight on his shoulder, and then a thud on the sandy floor. Bugger this, the parrot screeched in his ear. Bugger this bugger this bugger bugger bugger…

              Sanso was momentarily speechless, as his eye fell on the key. He picked it up and turned it over in his hand, feeling the rusty weight of it. He turned to look at the parrot on his shoulder, who thankfully had stopped his shrill squalking.

              This must be the key to that door, he whispered to the parrot. Let’s try it and see.

              Wait for Dory dear Wait for Dory!

              Bugger this, sighed the parrot, Here I am bringing the key, remembering everything everyone else forgets, running the show here and I don’t even have a name in this silly story.

              #165

              Illi woke up and groaned. Her back was aching and she felt like she’d fallen down a hill, or plummeted into a hole. I thought sleep was supposed to be relaxing, she grumbled as she shuffled off to make coffee. Ten pairs of eyes followered her every movement, assessing her mood. Some of the eyes winked at the other eyes, and nodded…yes, let’s remind her, she’s useless at these clues, ok guys, everyone ready…steady…GO!

              Illi jolted unpleasantly and painfully as a dreadful cacophany of dog barking erupted around her, and warm squirming bodies tumbled everywhere.

              How can I possibly focus on SELF, you stupid creatures, when you keep barking like that! Illi sighed, she knew she was getting it backwards, but her whole world was topsy turvey, nothing was as it seemed anymore. Which comes first, the dragon, or the egg?

              dragon or the egg, hhmm, egg before the dragon? or the dragon before the egg….irritated because the dogs barked? or dogs barked because I was irritated? eggs, dragons, eggs, dragons, dogs, eggs dragons eggs…..

              Illi sighed, and made another cup of coffee.

              And then as if by magic an extraordinary thing happened….

              #145

              Illi came to her senses. Standing here sniffing in the rain like this, I must be mad! hhmmm, should I find some shelter, or simply create no rain? Illi sighed. Sometimes she thought it was all so much easier before, when she believed in luck, and chance, and fate.

              #134
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                As Arona put her map carefully away she suddenly realised she was not alone. An odd looking creature was sitting on a rock a short distance away. Arona’s eyesight was not that strong, and she found it hard to make out clearly what sort of a creature it was, but she was amused to notice how it seemed to be talking and laughing to itself, nodding it’s head and sniffing the air. Perhaps it has been taking some of the hallucinogenic plants which grow so abundantly in this terrain, she thought to herself. The creature was now looking to the sky, as though rain were falling, and the sniffing was becoming more intense. How odd, thought Arona, and so convincing was the creature that she looked upwards herself, yet saw only the brilliant blue sky she knew to be there. Poor little fellow, she thought, it has really lost the plot.

                #132

                Illi was wondering which way to go. Sitting on a flat rock, damp and cold from last nights downpour, she sighed and shivered. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Hhmm, she tought. I said tought, not taught, she thought, I must be in Ireland. Hhmm, she thought, I said taught not thought, I must be a teacher in Ireland. The thunder rumbled closer. Or maybe I’m a pupil and I’m here to find my teacher. The thunder sounded further away this time, it must mean I’m here in Ireland to find my fellow pupils, she thought.

                Illi sighed. Why was she thinking about teachers and pupils? This was a dream, she could do anything she wanted, anything at all, and here she was thinking about teachers and pupils!

                The rain started to fall, gently at first, and the trees were sighing ahhhh so Illi did too, ahhhh so cool, so wet, so wet… so wet! The fig tree giggled and the olive tree winked at the fig tree, and the plum tree, who was watching, snickered behind the morning glory.

                AHA! Illi was having an AHA moment. I’m not in Ireland anymore. Olive trees don’t wink in Ireland! Where am I now?

                Illi rubbed her eyes. It wasn’t thunder, it was somebody learning to play a harp. She stood up and sniffed the air, trying to pick up a whiff of colour to tell her where the… (gonna get power cut, more later)

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