Search Results for 'smile'

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  • #819
    EricEric
    Keymaster

      A man was walking on the narrow path shaded by the tall pandanus trees.

      Mahiliki was coming back from the sawmill where he worked, smiling to the people he met on his way back home. The island of Fikitupi was a small island in the Pacific, and he knew most of the people living around this small corner here.

      An old wizened lady with a toupee was busy weaving pandanus dried leaves into baskets and mats on the front door of her small house, while children were running to and fro among noisy chicken all around the place.
      Mahiliki smiled, fond as he was of Nanaiis, whom all children loved deeply, for she always had new tales for them to hear, and cheering words to share. She was quite intuitive, and had said to him years ago that his new girlfriend wouldn’t stay around and have lots of children.
      He didn’t want many children anyway… but as Nanaiis had said, Vera had left, not without saying she would come back though.
      Mahiliki didn’t count much on it, but he had all the time to wait for her. Life was calm and sweet here, and its appeal was great.

      At a short distance, he could spot the hut of O’panié and Twahissi. They were some funny strange hoots these two. Twahissi was the light-haired niece of O’panié and she was sharing with him her love for otherworldly matters. Twahissi’s parents had left her in his care, when they left to open a shop in the main island of the archipelago, and frankly, Twahissy was far more comfortable staying in Fukitupi where all felt magic to her.

      Mahiliki smiled when he finally understood they were trying to bury something near the culvert on the side of their hut. For apparently no reason, a month or two ago, O’panié had become interested in old papers and had become convinced that the date line was not only passing on the island of Fukitupi, but even more, it was passing right through his hut, and thus might explain his apparent sudden feelings of time loss.
      Some educated people had tried to reason him, but he’d stood fast in his opinion. Sightings of rainbow bubbletons by his niece Twahissi had him convinced even further that there was the possibility to improve this technique of time-travel. For as he crossed the bedroom he could step one day forward or backward! How thrilling it all was!
      Guess only the Elders knew what he was trying to bury now…

      Mahiliki could not but agree with him, as they were giving the whole village some pleasant laughing, and he had to admit that his enthusiasm was winning him more and more people to his quest. He wondered what sweet Vera would think of all of that, Cartesian as she was…

      #817

      How restless that dragon is, thought Arona. Always shifting this or that, always talking in his damn riddles. She thought fondly of Buckberry, and how peaceful and content he seemed by comparison.

      She was no longer sure where she was. She had gone over it a few times in her mind, but try as she might she could not make sense of Leormn’s cryptic explanations. Or that Malvina either, although at least she is a bit more pleasant about it.

      Anyway, wherever it is, it feels a bit grey, she decided matter-of-factedly. And I am missing the others, even that grumpy Mandrake if the truth be told.

      She closed her eyes and began to paint colours over the grey. She was not sure what to paint at first, so she just dabbed bright blobs of colour haphazardly onto her mind’s canvas. The colours began to run into each other and form shapes and it it seemed to her they wanted to take on a life of their own. So she let them, and it was not long before she found herself in a meadow of spring flowers.

      That’s much better, she thought, taking a deep breath and lying back in the soft green grass.

      :fleuron:

      As she lay there her mind drifted sleepily, butterfly thoughts every now and then resting on some bright petal in her field of flowers.

      Just living is not enough, said the butterfly as it danced by her head, one must have sunshine, freedom and a little flower.

      Oh! said Arona excitedly, recognising the words from a far away time, You must be the butterfly of the story! The one my grandmother used to tell me when I was a little girl in the Village.

      Perhaps I am! danced the butterfly and it whirled and twirled and swirled in the sky.

      Arona rolled her eyes in exasperation. Now you sound a bit like that wriggly dragon. A simple yes or no would suffice.

      The butterfly landed on her nose. Now listen here you! Don’t go blaming me. I am YOUR imagination!

      Oh good point Butterfly, said Arona graciously. She pondered a moment … Well in that case …

      And next moment Mandrake, Vincentius and Yikesy were sitting in the meadow with her.

      Oh THERE you are Missy, said Mandrake. Might have known you would be lying around in some spring meadow leaving Vincentius and myself to look after your little sprog. Tsk Tsk, he tutted.

      hmmm, thought Arona, that’s not quite what I had in mind ..

      I would have said it’s exactly what you had in mind, whispered the butterfly, fluttering by her ear and then off again until it disappeared into the field of colours.

      Arona turned her attention to Vincentius and Yikesy, sitting a short distance away in the meadow. She noticed how smooth and golden Vincentius’ skin looked in the morning sunlight, and how deep and melodic his voice was as he told Yikesy one of his seemingly endless repertoire of stories. Imagining a gentle hug and a kiss on his sweet, but it had to be said incredibly ugly face, she sent Yikesy into a peaceful sleep.

      Oh great idea, smiled Vincentius with a wink. What I had in mind all along really. Perhaps you could also imagine Mandrake chasing a field mouse or something?

      #813

      I am here to offer you my services in exchange for board and lodging Madame Chesterhope, said Franiel, deciding to tactfully ignore for now her rather odd remark regarding his reality.

      Oh please, call me Phoebe. Phoebe smiled kindly at Franiel. Have you come a long way? Well really, I forget my manners. Sit down and I will prepare you a drink and some food. Then you can tell me your story and what has bought you here.

      And so it was that just a short while later Franiel found himself ensconsed on the settee sipping hot mulled wine from a huge mug. What strange twists and turns life may take, he mused.

      And whether it was the wine that loosened his tongue, or the kindly look in Phoebe’s eyes and the attentive way in which she nodded her old head so wisely, but he found himself telling her the most surprising things, as though she were an old friend he had known and trusted all his life.

      Thus it was that it had soon been agreed that Franiel’s proposal would be a mutually beneficial arrangement.

      It is as though you are an angel, laughed Phoebe, sent by God to help me, for it was weighing heavily upon me that there is much that needs doing. Dear Lydia who you met on the path, well what would I do without her, but she is not getting any younger, and Derwent …. her voice trailed off.

      Well you are the second person to call me an angel, for I met Derwent earlier who also mistook me for an angel, but I am afraid I must disappoint you both, for I am a very ordinary mortal.

      Oh I am not the slightest bit disappointed, smiled Phoebe. Here, she said, delving into the top drawer of a huge oak dresser, take these keys. I keep most of the rooms locked, for the place is so big and there is no need for all those rooms. Feel free to have a look around as you will. You will find your room prepared for you on the second floor, third room on the right.

      Franiel was surprised and it must have showed on his face.

      It is the room I keep ready for visitors. She chuckled. Most of the visitors I have here have no need of a place to sleep mind-you.

      These are the others you spoke of earlier? asked Franiel,curious. At that moment though Phoebe’s attention was distracted. She looked towards the window, which was wide open though there was a chill in the late afternoon air.

      Ah! there you are my lovely one! she cried, her face lighting up in delight as a large and colorful parrot flew in the window and landed on her shoulder.

      The bird squawked and cast a steely gaze on Franiel.

      Of course I will introduce you, said Phoebe calmly, Franiel, meet Vincentius.

      #803

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

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

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

      Oh! Now she was remembering… hope.

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

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

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

      #1746

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        yes, lots of triple numbers. I thought of you before Tracy, a bit later I checked the time on my phone, it was 5:55pm

        picked up my book to read just now, first line was:

        Terry closed his eyes and smiled serenely. “Do you know what he charges for one dose? Three hundred and thirty three dollars. He says it is his magic number”

        (they are talking about a dose of a new drug which allows people to have the experience of travelling to different realms)

        F:heart: (do you like my new signature ? I thought I could sign all my comments like this, Tracy came online just as I wrote that ahahahaha I bet she thinks it is :yahoo_sick: )

        #801

        The cold wind was blowing upon the marshes. The atmosphere was damp and dark with threatening gray clouds. A storm was approaching and Asiir was dreaming.

        Her dreams were so strong that they were triggering many emotions in her rider. Since their bonding seven years ago, their link had grown stronger and Lola wouldn’t think of shutting it down even in those uncomfortable moments. They were one.

        Lola was feeling a menace, some undefined threat coming with the storm, as if the storm was just the visible counterpart of what was preparing. In those moments, Lola couldn’t help but think of her family and her village… Her fist grasped tightly the grip of the sword she was holding.

        Everyone was killed when she was nine. Her dragon wasn’t fully developed at that time and couldn’t help her save her people. All Asiir could do was shield her from them as she was shielding herself, not even thinking of it.

        She sighed deeply, releasing the pressure of the storm and of the dreams. She’d learnt not to hold on the powerful emotional responses but to open herself as a channel of her dragon’s dreams. All she could do was let the energy flow through her. Was it Asiir creating the storm or the storm disturbing Asiir’s dreams? She wasn’t aware of the answer yet, but at times it had bothered her to think that her dragon could cause “bad things” to happen.

        A chilly breeze and a surge of electricity. She grinned impishly.
        It was the time of her lesson.

        You’re late master. she thought to the shadowy figure behind her. She was feeling something different that day in the presence. You’re not alone. I can feel a different energy with you today…

        The dragon growled in her agitated sleep.

        Your emotions are dragon drenched again, Lola. I know you consider it a proof of your connection with your beast, but it may be far more damaging than you think.

        Lola had felt a twinge at how Samira had called her friend, she was feeling her emotions rise dangerously to the point which she had learned she could not control herself. She had always wondered if Samira was seriously considering dragons as beasts or if she was teasing her, especially since she had let the connection develop in such a way.

        You’re going to have a new teacher…

        Lola’s heartbeat accelerated slightly, so slightly, but she could feel her mentor’s smile upon her interrogations. Was she leaving? She’d always dreaded such a moment. She felt the wry expression of Samira.

        I’m not going away… you need a training that I can’t give you. You need to learn how to ride properly over your bond and not get consumed by it, and Noraam can teach you that.

        A strange impression of connection with the new energy flew in her, making her feel quite uneasy. Such an intimacy was unusual with another human energy. Or was he human?

        A sudden surge of energy made her wince. She turned to her mentor and was surprised to only see Samira in her stout armor. She could feel the strength of the other energy but she couldn’t give him a form. She was feeling nudged gently from many directions at the same time and realized that she was afraid of loosing her bond with her friend. Wasn’t she trusting her bond? Another chill, and the rain started falling.

        You won’t really need all that Samira taught you during these last 4 years

        The inner voice was almost inaudible, but still she could feel it was not a voice and that the communication was going through another pathway. The vegetation of the marshes and few rocks were shifting to an unnatural yellow tint, and the faint glow around her teacher was growing in intensity. Actually, all the objects around her was beginning to glow, the limits of their shapes were collapsing.

        Lola was sill feeling the link with Asiir but it was thinning down in such an unfamiliar way.

        I’m going to help you remove the veils that Samira helped you put on your consciousness when you first met. But first you need to renew the link with yourself.

        She heard a vague sound of steel on the ground… had she lost her sword? She couldn’t feel her body. She couldn’t move as she was used to… but was it still something to move? The face of a man was forming in the energy patterns of the glowing clouds. Was he close or far away? Was he huge or of human size? Was she massive?

        A pounding sound in the distance of her inner ear… a familiar call but she was still so far.

        #1741

        In reply to: Synchronicity

        AvatarJib
        Participant

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

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

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

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

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

          ISN’T THAT A COOL SYNC!?

          #798
          AvatarJib
          Participant

            Sam was back from Australia, and had full of interesting new tricks to show to his friends.
            He smiled remembering the sneaky eyes of the Nanaconda when it offered him his way home.

            #792

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

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

            Slowly it came back to her.

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

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

            #790

            It had been a moonth now that Elizabeth had got her first encounter with Pigoosus, her inner inspirer, on a dirty bench of the public park littered with pigeons droppings.

            A whole moonth, and yet, it had been so full that she had barely noticed it passing. Even Finnley, the ever grunchy grumpy one, had felt ubiquitously absent (Elizabeth was quite fond of Lemone’s profoond quotes, and his consummate uooze of exquisitively bizarre words; so, “ubiquitously absent”, oxymoronic as it was, for all matter and purposes felt deliciously adequate to her present mood).
            So, yes, even Finnley… who had felt recently so deeply absorbed by flocks of dust bunnies that went around the corners.

            As for her, the grandioosa noovelist, she had used the inspiration of that day to take a break from that strange story she was writing, and which had accumulated so many loose ends that she’d grown yucky at the mere sight of a dish of spooghetti.
            Instead, she had written a small unpretentious (as far as she could, that is) novelette, or children book as her publisher said. Of course, everything a little bit out of the ordinary was only good for children, and in fact, she couldn’t care less. She had tremendoose fun writing the Extra-vagrant Illustrated Tales of The Oogletoon Twins. Not only writing in fact, but also illustrating that intermission work (which was a first, as she had mostly the habit of doing coollages of various pictures teafed around, hence her fondness for Robert the robber magpie).

            Notwithstanding, this was an interesting adventure for Elizabeth. Life was full of surprises, and she wouldn’t have thought that in becoming more “down to Oorth”, as her parents would have exhorted her to do, so to spook, she would have indeed be really, really closer to Oorth, but nonetheless, still in fairy land. Ahaha, that was putting her in the greatest of moods.
            She smiled a broad smile to a fidgeting Finnley who was under the glowing neon light of the dark copy machine room, apparently in great conversation with some invisible being, as she went past the room, on her way to her office.

            :fleuron2:

            Checking on her compooter (her gorgeous iPear) she noticed an email from Barash… Another publisher that she was considering working with, when her current one had felt hesitant at publishing her illustrated book.
            Decidedly, everything was going well for her these days.

            #773

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

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

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

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

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

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

            #760
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Elvira eventually reached the 25th bush on the left at Nutley Park with a bag of assorted garments for the near naked Becky, but there was no sign of her. Elvira investigated the rain drenched foliage, and deduced correctly that the bush had recently been used as some kind of camoflage cover by a taller than average person, mixed race and probably naked.

              Elvira chortled with delight; she had loved her days as a private investigator, all those years ago. Well, she said to herself, With a combination of forensic and physical clues, and telepathic and remote viewing skills, I’ll have Becky into some dry – and decent! – clothes in no time at all. Elvira stood quite still (in the torrential rain, which drew a few puzzled glances from the people rushing past), with her eyes closed and a happy contented smile hovering about her lips.

              Elvira was connecting to Becky, but she was picking up diverse and nonsensical impressions. A moose running up a flight of stairs, a monk sitting in the road talking about a cup……

              Pffft, said Elvira, no point in pushing it. Let’s have a look at the physical clues.

              There was an obvious trail of flattened wet grass footprints which meandered, at an incongrously liesurely pace, Elvira noted, in a random higgledy-piggledly fashion between the bushes, and occasionally in circles.

              Elvira set off along the trail with a spring in her sprightly old step and an aura of pleasant anticipation. She loved following a trail of clues! My, my, she said to herself, this is what I’ve been missing. Hhhmmm…..

              #2009

              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

              TracyTracy
              Participant

                IT’S BEEN A great looking week, MY mind HAS BEEN FILLED, MEETING flove IN THE MAGIC room TO DANCE AND SING. IT’S alright Yann TO give WITH A smile REINDEER STEW WITH addED mushrooms AND walk clear; BECAUSE nobody NEEDS TO nurse syncs, THEY NEVER GET lost ONCE opened. BE aware THAT nothing IS UNconnected.

                #1717

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  that’s interesting Jib, reading this bought back vivid recollection of a book I had as a kid of the “golden age” actors and actresses. I found a number of funny little synchs when reading the Deborah Kerr link … this one made me smile “Her first acting teacher was her aunt, Phyllis” …. as when I was writing the comment for Shar and Glor yesterday, (it is comment number 1233) one of them said she got her psychic abilities from her Aunt Phyllis, a name not based on anyone, it just came to mind with a certain luminosity …. (although I then changed the name to Aunt Philly to be more in character :yahoo_laughing: ).

                  #754
                  EricEric
                  Keymaster

                    In the sparsely furnished room that V’ass had allocated him on the small building next to the clinic, Gabriele Ferrari, local Eastern Arch-Agent for the Confregation, was lying bare-chest on his bed. Despite the heat outside, the dark hair on his chest, and the lack of air-conditioning in the room, he was not sweating —the result of a total control on his chakras, a training the completion of which constituted the first requirement in accessing to the upper echelon of Arch-Agent.

                    That Agent V was promising, he could tell. She was still a bit wayward and impulsive in her decisions, but spontaneity was an asset in their job. Mmm, better not get distracted now. Plan B was at stake.

                    :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

                    A few years before, Roma, Italy, at The Confregation Headquarters

                    — I’m afraid this Dr B. isn’t very reliable. We got reports from the investigations you commissioned on his past, and upon further study of his Internet connections that we…
                    — Spare me the details, Agent W.
                    — Yes Principate, sorry Principate.
                    — Thing is he has shown some mental instabilities, and early signs of schizophrenia.
                    — Mmm… We both know schizophrenia is just a pathological sign of accessing other aspects of self… Nothing that can’t be dealt with with appropriate measures.
                    — Yes Principate
                    — Agent W, you know what is as stake, right?
                    — Err…
                    — Let me explain to you very clearly and simply Agent W. The artifact that we arranged for Dr B. to find and access the information sealed into it, this artifact, Agent W, is of utmost importance. That artifact is of course well encapsulated into the computer machinery we have provided the Doctor unbeknown to him… It is thus very important that you ensure the good progression of these works. But, despite his… de-ranged mind, as you may say… Dr B. is a brilliant scientist, and his works must proceed at all cost. If need be, send him a local agent to make sure of that.
                    — Yes Principate.

                    :fleuron2:

                    Principate Haniel was quite concerned.
                    It was a mere handful of years that thanks to the progress of computers they had managed to decipher parts of the encoded informations. The crystal skull that the Confregation had retrieved centuries ago from the greed and ignorance of Crusaders had waited long before they could start to be privy of its secrets. Centuries of patience would not be thwarted by mere negligence.
                    Strangely the information they had deciphered were related to genetic encodings. The genome decryption of most of Earth species had not yet matched the pattern that was found inside the chunk of information until very recently, in an unexpected breed of spiders…

                    Hoperfully Agent W would take the appropriate measures, Principate Haniel smiled ethereally. She would see to that.

                    :fleuron2:

                    Auckland, New Zealand, a week later

                    — Agent V.
                    — Agent W. Arch-Agent G.
                    — We’ve be summoning you for some urgent matter that requires a local assistance. Arch-Agent G. here has advised that your service would be the most appropriate for this delicate matter. Are you aware of the dossier Operation Spider ?
                    — Yes Agent W. Arch-Agent G has most kindly forwarded to me the details.
                    — You’ll be leaving for the island at the end of the week, after you’ve been briefed on the most sensitive details.
                    — Details Agent W? I thought everything was in the dossier?
                    — There is a backup plan that has been devised from our best advised consultagents. Let’s call it Plan B for the moment. B as Bee-hive.
                    — Very well Agent W.

                    #750
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                      #749

                      Malika and her dog Leo stood at the entrance of the cave and was so excited to see the little draggies, she screamed with joy… and sent such loving, tender energy into the cave that all the little draggies came out to play with her and Leo, and familiarize themselves with each other. There was a mother dragon that resided inside the cave and as Malvina put her head inside the entrance, she was met with a smile, from the mother of whom was sitting atop a purplish egg.

                      The Mother Dragon introduced herself as Glordieoun…and said, softly, that this cave was a portal to her world, and a birthing chamber for all mother dragons, that were to be stationed there. It was a pregnancy chamber, a hatching chamber and a childcare chamber, that served the little draggies until they were able to fly themselves, and all the other attributes were in place, for them to be independent.

                      Glordieoun, said, that she was a bit tired and required some rest, but that she was glad that Malika finally found her way to the house, as her and all her people, knew they were now in safe and caring hands.

                      #745

                      Arona, my dear?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                      :fleuron:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                      — Now, continued Mavina, the sabulmantium.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                      #743
                      EricEric
                      Keymaster

                        Al woke up from a series of lucid dreams, interspersed with false awakening in which he was in the same space arrangement, but visibly another time space or even dimension… He was quite familiar now with these stuff, and could remember them well, but still had doubt about the implications of the strange imageries he was getting glimpses of.
                        It was like his tatami (because at this time, Al was finding more comfortable to sleep on the rice-straw mattress) was a flying carpet with its own volition, and Albert, like some modern-time Aladdin, was finding himself plunged right into new horizons.

                        Last vision had almost made him blush of the deranged aspects of his mind. Sure he was finding Becky rather attractive (who wouldn’t, he was wondering), but imaging her scantily clad in that skimpy dress in the middle of the bushes was surely some trick of his luscious mind rather than some bona fide connection of his magic tatami.

                        Good thing too that the joggers (or thought-forms, whatever they might have been) in the park in which the magic tatami had landed couldn’t see the projected form of Al, because he was unable to move right now, except for some embarrassing lower part of his body. Now the tatami was looking like a circus tent. Oh dear… the wedding had been really hard on his nerves, he reckoned.

                        When he finally woke up, he noticed some voice messages on his telephone from Becky and thought he would probably skip mentioning his last synchronicity of his :yahoo_whistling:
                        What was she wanting that necessitated a dozen messages on his phone? Couldn’t she just call Sean, or was he still incapacitated by the gallons of vodka he had “injested”?
                        Well, surely the matter would wait for him to shave, for he was starting to look like Mr Cavern, with the huge hunger too —he smiled at the idea that dear Becky would surely fear he might eat a clue by mistake…

                        :fleuron:

                        Moments later, after a good shower, fresh clothes and some slices of buttered nuts bread with pumpkin jam, he telepathically connected to Becky, wondering why she had not thought of that method in the first place… What was the point of all these group meditations together with Sam and Tina if they couldn’t make good profit of the enhanced neurological pathways they had built together. Granted Becky had always been a bit reluctant to use it, or perhaps just forgetful of that possibility… Anyway…

                        CAN’T YOU JUST KNOCK BEFORE YOU CONNECT! a shriek suddenly filled his skull

                        Al immediately shut the visual, blushing of the renewed deranged vision…

                        — Sorry, I just…
                        — Oh, no need to trail forever on that… I’ve found someone to help me, and yes, I do remember how to connect telepathically!

                        With that, all was left in Al’s skull was a big whooshing wind.

                        #739

                        Vessie Darl, Sha and I are just popping down to the beach for some more of them special beauty sea waters you told us about.

                        Great idea, Gloria, responded Veranassessee vaguely. She watched absent-mindedly as Gloria’s generous body, clad only in a skimpy red bikini, disappeared down the corridor. There was something about that shade of red tugging at her memory. Vermillion red …

                        Red! PLAN B! Oh my God! how could she have forgotten!

                        It was two days since she had called him, that meant he would be here soon, that did not leave her much time to prepare.

                        :fleuron:

                        Everything has to be perfect. She wears a silk vermillion red camisole, the one he gave her, scarcely covered by lush black velvet and topped with bright red lipstick. She casts her eyes critically around the room. It is nearly three years since she has seen him, she doesn’t want to spoil this moment. The glasses of soft red merlot are ready, a plate of miniature liqueur chocolates on a plate by the bed.

                        She shakes out her long dark hair and looks in the mirror. Her chocolate skin glows, her eyes are bright. She will do. She touches the red silk camisole … it is still beyond her comprehension how she can have forgotten.

                        When he arrives he is beautiful. Too beautiful. she thinks. It is so easy for him, effortless. He appraises the room and laughs casually, he knows how hard she has tried. Agent V he says, a pleasure to see you again. He kisses her. She remembers everything.

                        He takes a sip of the wine. She watches him, unsure of herself. He has a black bag with him.

                        He looks at her, sees her looking at the bag, and smiles slowly, I have something to show you, Agent V, he says, and she can sense his pride, the barely suppressed excitement in his voice.

                        He opens the bag carefully, pulls out a small white box, handles it lovingly. Two years experimentation in the Russian lab, he says softly, delicate threads of spun blue bonnet spider silk and yet strong enough to hang a bridge on.

                        He looks at her. Come here. he says

                        She hesitates for just a moment thinking of Mahiliki, and then inwardly shrugs, bugger it, I never really wanted to live on Fukitupi island and have loads of babies anyway. She moves over to him. He takes the transparent silk and slowly starts to wind the delicate thread around her wrists. Try and break it, he whispers in her ear, kisses her neck.

                        Then stops.

                        My God, what the fuck is that?

                        Veranassessee sighs.

                        :fleuron:

                        No I swear Sha, I am telling you, I saw him go into Vessie’s room.

                        Oh my God Glor, he might be a murderer, or a bloody rapist even!

                        I tell you though, he were right bloody gorgeous.

                        Well never mind that! The door is locked Sha. I think we’d better shout out. Make sure she’s okay.

                        Right, good idea. And then if she doesn’t answer we can bash the door in and we can both pounce on him.

                        Right, on the count of three Glor, we’‘ll shout out, one… two… THREE!”

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