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  • #1917
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      T: and it was so much more relaxing not to emention amusing, because I wasnt aiming anywhere in particular
      T: wasnt looking for anything
      T: so didnt get frustrating
      F: yeah
      T: maybe thats why I often have more fun introducing a new character to the story, than trying to work out a seqyence
      T: and looking for ways to make the thread fit together
      T: I can make a new thread fit into the old threads, but cant seem to make an old thread carry on
      F: to me, that is because of expectations
      T: hhmm that sounds marvellously profound but the meaning escapes me
      T: yes
      F: i start to become concerned it is right, fits in with what other people are expecting to happen
      T: yes!
      T: thats so true
      F: whereas, if i was free from that, i could make anything happen
      T: yes
      T: that is pround
      F: and i think that is my next challenge
      T: I bet its a KEY
      F: ahahhaahha
      F: yes
      F: a key
      T: it is
      T: well we should remeber that
      F: yes
      F: it will be much easier then
      T: write it up F in a nice post
      F: ahahhah
      T: or remind me to try
      F: shall we just post a snippet of our conversation
      F: so that it is recorded
      T: yes, would you do that?
      F: okay
      T: yes, I agree it needs to be recorded
      T: I am incklined to think, from my POV anyway, that if I could remeber that key point, and apply it to all areas, not jutst the story, then the entire story will have been worth it just fr that one key point
      F: oh yes
      T: (I have already forgotten what it was)
      F: :yahoo_rofl:
      T: :yahoo_rofl:
      T: scrolling back….
      T: oh yes
      T: :yahoo_rofl:
      F: :yahoo_rofl:
      T: well I hink I have just given myself permission to start a new thread

      #841

      Jarvis was dozing in a dark corner of the kitchen. He was dreaming of bees, he had been assigned to the bee keeping a few weeks ago, just after the “incident”. He was one man the Dr could trust. In a previous life, he was keeping bees as a family business. But an accident with the bees led to his dismissal by his uncle. A regrettable accident, too much smoke, too much dead bees. Jarvis had been thinking of a sabotage, surely he had been framed but as he was thinking of quiting this poor paid job, it was also a perfect occasion.

      He had been engaged as a security agent… sort of. He had to pretend to be a gardener and not awake suspicion among the others. The funny thing is that he had soon been contacted by another organization, and had been offered quite a good price. All he had to do was observe and dream. Unfortunately, the man, Claude, who had approached him was disguised as a patient… and he had disappeared after the “incident”. Since then Jarvis had been having strange dreams of mummies, magpies, there was even one with 3 eyes 2 nights ago :yahoo_waiting:

      The light was turned on abruptly. Someone was arriving, still hidden by the tables and shelves.
      With the sound of the heels on the tiled floor, that was a woman… or the Doctor.
      A little twinge told him not to let him be noticed yet. He moved his head silently in a position from which he could see who it was.
      Oh! that big athletic woman, Vasse.
      Claude had told him about her. Jarvis had to be very cautious, because she was of another organization… another :cat_confused: he was calling her agent V. Well Jarvis wasn’t curious enough to ask any further detail, there were already too much to remember.

      She was doing something with a little jar of a brown substance, and brought a spoon full at her mouth. Her sudden coughing and spitting almost made him fall off his chair. But hopefully with all the noise she hadn’t noticed. Mumbling, she was heading toward the fridge. Was she possibly aware of…

      Yes! she was taking the plate with the honeycomb… he’d have to move quickly.
      As she was considering the modified honeycomb, he realized that she was about to eat it. So she didn’t know. :-? He had to warn her.

      — I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, Agent V…

      #838
      EricEric
      Keymaster

        West Cork, Ireland, Summer of 2051

        As she walked along the rocky trail bordering the coast where occasionally whales could be seen at a distance, she was humming deep sounds and harmonies in the damp air filled with the echoes of the cool wind.

        She was aware of distant focuses of herself, living around that place. Past focuses, in that land of the druidesses and druids, and another one, closer to her, in some probable future. Like this other focus, she loved the whales too, and she was able to communicate with her. Catherine Wrick would have loved to be able to live in such a crystalline place she could envision with her eyes closed.

        Her woolen black coat would let the wind insinuate itself through the layers of clothes, and she was starting to feel a little cold now. Temperatures were colder than they used to be in the past, and even now in summer, they would rarely go higher than 15°C. It was time to get back home. She whistled Merlu, her golden labrador, back, and still nestled into her dream-like attention, slowly walked towards her house.

        :fleuron:

        In the comfort of her dome house, she started to leaf through the messages and reminders that she had in a pile on the bed table. Nothing much of interest, except that in a few months time, it would be the first birthday of the twins

        Her step-mother Dorean had sent her two books, when she had learned of the birth of the twins. They were to return to them, when they would be seven, she’d say.
        Why seven?, she’d asked… Dorean had answered that seven was the perfect age for them to get them back —their intuitive abilities would still had much potential, and they would be mature enough to understand and use the books. It was no use for herself to keep the books any longer.

        As she was going to sit in her antique rocking chair for a smoke, Catherine noticed a faint cracking sound. Perhaps Merlu was playing with those hard-boiled eggs she’d been painting recently, without much success, to try to reproduce the perfect glowing green colour of her grandfa… Another crack. She stopped and listened again.
        It couldn’t be Merlu: the dog was now barking.

        She started to wonder Could it be?… After all those years of keeping them…

        The sound was definitely coming from the reading room where the big eggs were put on display…

        #837

        As Claude was entering deeper into the giant babul tree, the obscurity was resounding with joyful peals of laughters and whispered words that seemed to mossify into his mind, like they weren’t really words, but bubbles pops and boobles.

        He was resolute to find out whatever was going on in this place…

        #1953

        In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

        EricEric
        Keymaster

          Sounds talking ground slowly life,
          Weather suddenly blog nothing ABOUT skulls.
          News land call information ABOUT movie
          Times FOR SOME light sync
          Sitting STILL, try heard…

          #833
          AvatarJib
          Participant

            The low vibration of his didjeridoo was filling up the room. His apartment in NYC was wide open, and a fresh breeze was caressing his naked arms. Sam had learn how to circular breathe in order to play the didjeridoo while he was in Australia. He loved the sound of it, the vibration passing from the hollow trunk through his arms, his mouth, his whole body.
            His didjeridoo was undecorated as he was more interested by the sound than by its appearance. A clear E flat.

            Sam was playing around with the sounds he could do with this instrument, a blending of harmonics and of seeming animal cries. He was also introducing sounds that he connected to various friends of his. His open windows had let some bees in the apartment. The rhythm of his music and the rhythm of the fly of the insects were creating a kind of pattern that was hypnotic, and he soon felt his body expand as he was keeping on playing and breathing.

            He was letting more of his awareness of other energies and he could see that among his friends were various people from the aboriginal tribes he had met during his trip, and also the Nanaconda.

            #1787

            In reply to: Synchronicity

            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Bijoux sounds cool to me too, I wonder why….:yahoo_thinking:

              #1785

              In reply to: Synchronicity

              AvatarJib
              Participant

                Hey that s a synch yes because when we arrived in Spain, I was feeling different sounds from the earth like inner ones and at that moment TP pointed in the very same direction I was feeling the buzzing sound and she told me Salitre was there.

                And when I first came in her bathroom, I say this poster of “The Mummy and the Humming bird” after you told me about your post of the humming earth.

                #1784

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  I read this tonight on yahoo news:

                  Earth gives off a relentless hum of countless notes completely imperceptible to the human ear, like a giant, exceptionally quiet symphony, but the origin of this sound remains a mystery. Now unexpected powerful tunes have been discovered in this hum. These new findings could shed light on the source of this enigma.

                  more here on Earths Humming

                  seem to have been many humming synchs the last few days

                  #823

                  It had been more than a week now that Claude had broken loose from one captivity to fall into another.
                  Not that this gang of strange shape-shifting magpie beings seemed to consider him a captive, rather an impromptu host that they felt obliged to take care of. But Claude wasn’t duped one moment.

                  His precedent prison on Tikfijikoo had been relatively easy to break out from, thanks to that unasked for gift of preternatural strength he had gained from the experiments he had be subjected to. Actually, had he not almost been driven mad from pain, he would have been on the loose earlier. Thank the Magpies for his recovered sanity…
                  Security on the island facility wasn’t the highest and most difficult he had been confronted to. They seemed to consider the relative isolation of the island and its deadly sharp coral reef encircling it their main asset in keeping their experiments clear from outside interferences.

                  Claude snapped back from his thoughts and gazed fixedly at a tender green sprout at his feet while humming a nursery rhyme. An effective trick.
                  He had to be more cautious… He knew they could read his surface thoughts…
                  Apparently, he could come and go as pleased him, but as he had tried to find his way back to the island facility, he had discovered that the landscape was changing each time he felt close to it. And soon enough, he was finding himself back to the hidden settlement. He knew enough to suspect his affable alien hosts of playing tricks on his mind to keep him in check. Perhaps they were even bending space around their settlement, as far as he knew…
                  Not intrusive, and yet not a very different treatment from the inhumane experiments. Except he had no mummy bandages this time…

                  Know thy foe so went the adage, and Claude was determined to know enough about his new captors to escape and complete his mission.
                  From what he was guessing, as they had not killed him, they probably would release him (if he was lucky) as soon as their mission would be completed —a mission which was most probably the same as his own. Snatching the crystal skull he knew was there somewhere. He could sense they were after it too.
                  He was wondering who had hired them to retrieve the thing. Obviously they were not from the common lot of thieves, most certainly not even from this planet, and anyone who had hired them must have been in dire need of the thing.
                  He had been told by the Baron that the crystals were storing ancient vast knowledge and that accessing it had been only possible since a few decades, actually since the discovery of coherent beams of light (laser). But even accessed, the information stored remained vastly incomprehensible, and deciphering it could take another millennium without appropriate knowledge of its holographic proprieties.
                  The Baron had told humanity was like a child being given a box of books on relativity… And even the mad transvestite doctor was only toying with the tip of an immense iceberg.

                  Those Magpies were far more advanced, Claude could see it clearly, and he wondered how he could outdo them, if that was possible. Quite frankly he didn’t know why they had not yet retrieved it. Perhaps they were having trouble locating it too…
                  That would mean he still had a head start, however short.

                  :fleuron2:

                  A faint barking sound seemed to echo in his head… It was apparently coming from… the gnarled trunk of an old majestic tree… Whispers seemed to come from it too, like a child talking with an adult, and whispers around them…
                  The tree seemed wide enough for him to enter into the biggest crack of its bark…
                  Could it be one of their secret entrances and exits? There had to be coordinate points were they could get out of this warped space… What was he risking to try?

                  #1435
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Nuf, Nuff, and Epic are cool. I still like Hoop though (pooh backwards as well as circle imagery) How about Hoopnaf as in pooh, not another focus…..ok ok…..Hooplens… GlassHoop…. The Hoop Epic….. Hooples (sounds a bit like hopeless)….. Finkles Hooples….The Shite Site…..

                    #1434
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      :beer:
                      sitting here having a drink by myself …

                      NUF – I know we said this one already but I quite like it
                      NUFF – Not Unother Freakin Focus
                      EPIC – misspelling of Eric or alternatively ENERGY PLAYING IN COLLABORATION – well a hard word to live up to though.
                      SPOD – means nothing, just like the sound of it … oh no hang on it does mean something :yahoo_nerd:
                      LOONAR – I am channeling Finnley now

                      :face-plain:

                      might go home and cook dinner (spuds) instead …

                      #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?

                      #1755

                      In reply to: Synchronicity

                      EricEric
                      Keymaster

                        I guess this falls under the category of syncs, though I’ve not yet found all of the implications of this yet…

                        In the various extremely interesting and profound articles I found while browsing the news this morning, I found an intriguing article (FR): “She punches a snake with her bare hands!”. (they could have say “with her bare feet!” or better, “with her bare tits!”, that would have sounded more dramatic, and would have sold best… those wannabe journalists ;)) )

                        Anyways, it tells the vibrant story of a woman named Ruth Butterwurth (sounds like our dear Mrs Butterbutt to me) who punched a python to rescue her kitty from its clutches (well no clutches really, fangs at best) of the monster.

                        The article (which was posted the 23 rd of March, at 14:23, while it’s seems relatively old news) gave a link to a flickr photo with… guess what was on the same page, besides the Nanapython?

                        A lemur, an antelope (looking a bit like a :goat: :yahoo_oh_go_on: ) and a lynx :cat_happy: too. :spider: :y_orly: :yahoo_big_hug:

                        On the python article:

                        In Greek mythology Python was the earth-dragon of Delphi, always represented in the vase-paintings and by sculptors as a serpent. Pytho was the chthonic enemy of Apollo, who slew her and remade her former home his own oracle, the most famous in Classical Greece.

                        Mmm, Mrs Butterbutt and draggies? :detective:

                        #809

                        Adorning the enormous wooden door of Chesterhope Mansion was a heavy bronze knocker in the shape of an ornate dragon. The door stood slightly open.

                        Hello! Anyone there! Franiel called out several times, each time pushing the door open wider.

                        Only an echoey silence responded.

                        Franiel mindfully removed his boots. With a growing sense of excitement, as well as some slight trepidation if the truth be told, he entered the massive entrance hall. A black marble statue of a tiger reminded him curiously of his dream. To the left and right were doors, but after knocking gently, he found these to be locked.

                        In the distance someone began to play the piano, a slow and simple melody. Franiel followed the faint sound to the door at the end of the hallway. He entered a massive dining room, in the center of which stood a very long table with 12 highbacked chairs. The furniture was heavy and dark, but sunlight streaming in through the window mercifully lightened the atmosphere.

                        Crossing the room he entered the rear parlour from whence came the music. A woman sat with her back to him playing an upright piano. She had long grey hair, worn loose down her back. Franiel noticed how thin she was, and how straight she sat as her long fingers delicately caressed the keys.

                        Hesitantly he knocked, not wishing to startle her. She stopped playing and turned towards him. Her face was gaunt, and such a pale colour, he found himself wondering if it had been a long time since she had seen the light of day. But her eyes were alive, bright and intense, and she did not seem awfully surprised to see him there.

                        Hello she said, Who are you? I don’t think I have seen you here before.

                        I am Franiel. I am sorry to arrive so unexpectedly … he began

                        Oh no! you mustn’t be sorry, the woman interrupted, jumping up with a speed and agility which surprised Franiel given her otherwise frail appearance. She rushed over to him and then reached out and lightly touched his cheek. A look of wonder crossed her face and she stepped back.

                        Oh my goodness! You are real! she exclaimed in astonishment. I thought you were one of the others.

                        #1753

                        In reply to: Synchronicity

                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          JballoonB sounds great!

                          :yahoo_heehee:

                          #806

                          By the end of the day, Bea had all but forgotten the strange dream snap-phrase. She climbed into bed and stretched her legs out between the cool crisp sheets with a contented sigh of pleasure. She picked up her dream journal from the bedside table and opened it at random:

                          Plenty of parking on the coastal regions of the self…

                          Must have been wild in Jamaica in the fifties….

                          Eye of Horus, Write it down! ……

                          One man went to mow a scattered lettuce…..

                          What! Bea sat up with a frown of consternation. A scattered lettuce! Singular! Not ‘scattered lettuces’, ONE scattered lettuce! I wonder if it matters? I wonder if all the interpretations were all wrong? Sheesh, what a silly mistake! I wonder if it MATTERS?!

                          IT MATTERS NOT, said the voice in her head, with an amused chuckle.

                          At the sound of the familiar voice, Bea relaxed, and smiling, fell into the other world of dreams.

                          #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.

                          #791
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            You booger! Finnley swore out loud at the Phooto-copy machine. Booger that Mr Arak, forcing her to work with this antiquated equipment!

                            ( Technically, said Al, Finnley is only the cleaner, so why she is doing the photo-copying I really don’t know. )

                            Finnley was still wondering who this Al was who kept mysteriously, and a bit rudely, interjecting. He sounds a little pedantic, she thought, perhaps he is one of those compooter gooks who have hired an office in the building recently.

                            Mind you, she had to give him credit, he had a damn good poont, perhaps she should have a meeting with Mr Arak to discuss the terms of her coontract.

                            #1726

                            In reply to: Synchronicity

                            F LoveF Love
                            Participant

                              this one is a synch because it suddenly popped into my head “big synch” then next second on the news was this story

                              and i sort of thought about posting it then thought “oh bit stupid don’t need to post every damn thing” .. then i noticed a lady surname Finn wrote the article so i decided i would …. synch or no synch .. pretty cool anyway, biggest building in the world and like a dragon too.

                              I am noticing that often … thought …. then synch … for example today in cafe i saw man who was in my dream again … i didn’t see him at first and then when I did, and thought “dream” … his friend at that moment said “I had a dream blah blah blah” (the conversation sounded quite weirdo, a bit like i would imagine us sounding if we were talking in a cafe and someone was eavesdropping)

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