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  • #1011

    A Pacific island then… she thought

    Let’s move there…
    She could feel her ghost body hover, like a feather sucked into a whirlwind.
    She had to be confident she’ll snap back right at her lying body when she’ll be over with the trip.
    Trust that everything will be okay. As it always were. Will always be.

    She could see the Earth from above… The Pacific Ocean, its huge vastness, delimited by coasts of lights.

    Oh, of course, she had not thought of that, but it was night there. She could see towns, concentrations of which were twinkling like shiny stars on a dark sky; but she didn’t want towns. Far too crowded, lots of energies that were maybe intoxicating at first, but she could feel she would be worn out in a second.
    For, as she traveled in spirit, she had access to so much more information than people usually get with their physical senses alone,… it was hard to explain.

    There… in that dark patch, when she moves closer, she can feel the immensity of the ocean surrounding everywhere. She moves closer to that long island that must be New Zealand, because she doesn’t want to be far from any sort of indication of her location. Keeping an eye on this, she spots something which isn’t a city light. It’s dancing, like a fire.
    How can she spot a fire at that distance is beyond her understanding, but she has learned not to question, and act upon her impulses.

    She wills herself at the fire.

    Waves, the peaceful sound of the waves.

    Around the fire, she can see a dog, crouched near a thoughtful man; there’s a young girl too, with a little white rabbit in her lap. The girl’s parents are resting in a hug, and a man with a strange energy configuration, the like of which she hasn’t seen, is closing the circle.

    What a bunch of interesting people…

    #1004
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Becky was undecided. Add to the last entry? Or start another? Grinning wickedly, she started another.

      Her second impulse selection was a slightly late coincidence, but a coincidence notwithstanding. It was about Sand Dragons . A Few days previously Becky had been to an auction. She bid for and won a first edition copy of Wisp magazine; it had cost her an arm and a leg, but she was delighted with her purchase. It would increase in value, and was a delight to read some of the first published articles of the many authors, poets, artists and photographers who would later become famous. The article about sand sculptures had reminded her of the T.R.A.P. day out.

      Well, how about that! exclaimed Becky, reading the rest of the comment. Wish House is one of my most favourites, and I chose it by accident!

      She read:

      Illi used to play a game with Cranky (as she affectionately called nanny Chraddock) in the long months while her parents were away, called Wish House. Every room in the sprawling Elizabethan house was a different time and place, and the moment they entered the room they imagined themselves to be different people, in other times. Petunia Duster the maid loved to join in too; consequently not alot of housework got done, but with Gus and Flora always off travelling, nobody minded. Playing was, after all, so much more important than dust. In fact, a thick layer of dust made the rooms all the more mysterious and magical.”

      Becky ran her finger along the dust on her desk and smiled.

      OH! Becky jumped. I almost forgot to make a note of the number, now what was it? she mused, scratching her head. I think it was 171 :notepad:

      Becky wondered whether or not to start another entry. Intuitively, she chose not to. Her third random choice was another synchronicity with the first edition of Wisp: it was about pyramids in Spain. The first edition of Wisp magazine was particularly valuable as it was the first mention in print of the discovery of the Iberian pyramid culture.

      Number 835 she noted :notepad:

      #966
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Sure aliens… Why not aliens? Becky said with a funny maniac laughter that sent chills through Tina’s back.
        After all, we’ve been talking to dead people for so long, we’ve forgotten all about alien lives… I want to believe!

        Well, Tina shrugged in complete abandon, I suppose that would not be your last eccentricity after all… But now that Al starts to believe such utter nonsense is beyond my understanding. I think I need to get more sleep too.
        See you tomorrow, and have fun with your rugrats darling pooh… she said with a sugary smile while closing the videoconf window.

        Phew… Becky sighed, with an anxious side glance at the silent cradles that may not stay silent much longer.

        The rugrats have names you know Tina, she said, more to herself than to the benefit of anyone else.
        And hell if I remember what they are now…

        #961

        Much to Arona’s surprise…

        Although I don’t know why I am continually surprised, she thought, surely I am getting used to this weirdo story by now.

        Well anyway, Arona found herself standing outside of Malvina’s cave. She was still so caught up in the last warm remnants of her delightful reverie in the field of flowers it took her a few moments to realise that the entrance to the cave had disappeared and was now a solid wall of stone.

        Hmmmm, yes, said Leormn, appearing in the nick of time to answer her unspoken question, Yes, Malvina has been shifting things around again.

        I can’t get in though! complained the ever astute Arona.

        No, agreed Leormn reflectively, you can’t. Well there is another entrance, but this has only been disclosed to an elite few. He smiled smugly.

        #928

        Passing through the security cordon of the giant spiders had been relatively easy, thanks to the indications telepathically passed down to them by the Snoot .
        With Anita on her back, Yurmaela the gruffoon had come back to the borgulm tree where Claude had been left to watch. After a moment of surprise at the unexpected apparition, he didn’t take long to decide whether he wanted to stay or not and had jumped on the broad back with the little smiling girl who was grabbing on the coarse hair of the beast.

        Keep you energies and your attention close to us, said Yurmaela Just like Akayli is doing with your parents, Anu. Though they have plenty of eyes, the giant spiders mostly rely on their energy perception, and they won’t see you if you stay within our energy field.

        A few minutes later, they were all standing in front of the growirling wortex, partially masked by the bark of the huge babul tree, which was standing out with its massive appearance. Flames of what seemed to be dark floating matter were pulsating very slowly, enhancing the thumping sound of their hearts.

        Ready to come back home sweet Anu? Akayli said fondly to the little girl?
        Yes, it was so much fun you all came to play with me… I’d want you to stay with me.
        What do you say? asked Claude They ain’t coming?
        This reality had a special design which allowed us to project very easily here said Yurmaela very softly in that reality of you, and Anita and Akita; as for now, the barrier in that reality is thicker than it is here.
        But we are always present around Anu, you know that said Akayli kneeling down to wrap his spotted furry arms around the little girl
        Yes I know she was smiling And I miss my parents too
        So let’s go, the wortex will close any moment now

        #921

        It had been a week now. Georges had fully taken his role as Shu-Lom, the eleventh Gate in the Council of the Guardians. His mergence with the actual focus of Blöhmul was fading out ; the transition had been smooth, unnoticed by most of the Guardians, even his closest friends. Georges was careful not to display any unusual change in Shu-Lom’s attitude, though some of them were showing signs of suspicion, especially… his own focus, Sinadron who was the most susceptible to be aware of the difference. Georges had been avoiding him since his arrival, but he would eventually have to face him for one of the rituals soon to begin.
        Of the eleventh other Guardians, only 2 were considering him as a friend, Doh’Maar and Vogel. Most of the others were ignoring him during the sessions and Sinadron were despising him. Well, technically he was despising Shu-Lom and the change would not make things go easier between the 2 of them as the energy of their 2 focuses were sort of repulsing each other.
        Following Shu-Lom’s habits, he was heading to the public baths, but contrary to him, he was going during daylight. He needed some answers. He had been feeling strong tensions between the Gates, and there were also underlying feeling of discontentment and anger among the other Guardians. For the first time in their history, unknown groups of their kind were attacking the other races and provoking them and generating feelings of fear, even amongst the Guardians.
        The man he was following would give him some of the answers. He would have to befriend him first though. Noraam had a smooth energy, and he would be easy to approach, especially in the dampness of the baths.

        Noraam was wearing an grey cape, attached on his shoulders with carved fibulae. His robe was short, above his knees, and rather dark. He was quite young by the standards of the Guardians and still fiery. Shu-Lom was young too, about the same age as Noraam, but he was quite pessimistic and self-effacing, and especially he wanted to leave, that he did, and Georges took his place.
        Georges suddenly felt a familiar energy, one that he would recognize anywhere, anytime. Salome… rather another focus of her essence. Hahaha, that was a surprise, and he almost lost track of what he was doing. Noraam was already taking the stairs up to the baths. Something about the energy of that focus was attractive, he still didn’t know who it was or what he/she(?) was doing here. Maybe just a projection. He didn’t have time to investigate. Heading to the stairs where Noraam was already being dematerialized and rematerialized to the first level, he heard a child’s voice.

        Can you help me?.. I know you can.

        What again, another distraction… he would be late to the baths and maybe loose the occasion to speak with the other Gate.

        Looking down at the origin of the voice, he was surprised to see a little girl, red hair and amber eyes. As he could see, she was blind, but as he could feel, she was quite capable of seeing things.

        Do I know you, little one? He had not been aware of this child in Shu-Lom’s memories, and he was wondering if he had missed something during his encounters with the original.

        You dreamt of me the other night, but you weren’t here yet.

        Her last words triggered a memory, of him carrying a naked little girl in his arms, protecting her in a way, and he was following a man in his dream, trying to keep track… in his dream, he was rushing and almost lost the child, following also Salome who had already taken the stairs… yes he was here in his dreams, the place and the stairs were the same… as was the child.

        What is your name little one? In my dream you were followed by an owl
        You can call me Ar’Meel.

        :fleuron:

        Sam thought he could write it somewhat differently. With his understanding of Georges’ abilities, he could well have split in two and followed Salome and stayed with the girl simultaneously and maybe even Noraam.
        A smile.
        He was feeling wobbly and wavy. A ripple effect?
        It seemed that there had been a strange recognition between his character and himself. It was like Georges was aware of Sam wanting to change what had happened… or was it a suggestion of Georges?

        #919

        It only took a few seconds for Armelle to deflate though she donned off with a hint of reluctance the delightfully filling feeling of power she had acquired notwithstanding the slight overweight (a few grams at best, given her immaterial nature of pristine white hallowy owly essence, but you could not reasonably expect to be really ascended with even no more than a few grams of physicality left, could you?)…

        So, it only took a few seconds, which in essence’s inner time was tantamount to a mere eon (a merry myriad of seconds).

        But then, all was so clear.
        She was seeing the trail that was left unwatched by the spiders, and that her friends would take to the wort-hole.

        Claude, my dear, would you be so kind as to oblige me for a few minutes? she regally asked her host of the branches, taking great care not to be too self-conscious, which would irremediably make her roll her eyes and lose all composure.
        Well… err… I s’pose yes…
        Indeed. Then, take good care of the wort-hole, and wait for us to come back, and then lead us back to the place from whence you came.
        Wouldn’t do that, if I were you… It’s full of magpies there…
        Oh bugger now. Armelle sighed so profusely that it made the hair raise on Claude’s head. The Snoot told me the way would be clear, so… have a little faith in me she said in a cocker’s voice.

        And there, in a majestic elan, she went back to the spot where her friends were now gently getting together.

        :fleuron:

        When she arrived, Akayli the were-lynx had just been deposing his precious package of the two silk-wrapped parents at the feet of little Anita. The first minutes of doubt passed, her hesitant face started to show a smile, knowing that her parents would be fine.

        Yuki was for himself all very impressed by the transformergence of his friends, and was finding that a very good idea to get more focused.
        However, he could hear the yet unvoiced protests of Armelle at his yet unphrased suggestion of a mergence
        Now way I get my white feathers mixed in that bloody smelly goat’s fur!
        And of course, he could hear too the yet unvoiced slew of outraged protests
        Smelly goat? Who you bloddy call a smelly goat, you persnickity saucer-eyed shuttlecock?

        Yet… Yuki, gazing for a few seconds of essence in the stream of possibilities, weighted again the enticing result that a mergence of the three of them would produce…
        Which would be… a… grabbiffon.
        A magnificent winged horned cotton-tailed… sort of… gryffun… or grumpfoon.
        Well… perhaps Armelle was right in the not-yet-voiced first place.

        That would just be plain ridiculous.

        So… what are we waiting for?! Let’s do it now!! all three of them laughed in unison :D =)) :creating_magic: :buffoon:

        #891
        AvatarJib
        Participant

          His teeth had been nudging him for a few days, or maybe a few weeks actually. Last Wednesday, Yurick and him had a chat with their friends Michaela and Elias, and Yann told them about his questioning.
          Now, he was wondering about what was the meaning of all that in his new understanding of his reality. He was having the impression that he was in a complex video game and that at the beginning he hadn’t been told about all the fun stuffs he could do in it. Many aspects of this video game were unraveling and still he was feeling cold feet about jumping ahead.
          Yann was noticing that his teeth were nudging himself mainly when he was doing certain things, like judging himself, finding himself unworthy, trying to force himself in certain directions, or to force his body. It was like his body was an amazing communication device from him to himself. It was continuously giving him information, not only about his environment like temperature, smells, lights and images, but also about what would have been hidden like weather patterns, mass excitement or balance, mass tension or release…
          Elias had told him and Yurick that their energy was constantly open to each other, in a continuous merging and exchanging process. They were quite aware of that now, and at the beginning of their relation it would have been overwhelming, but now it was really fulfilling in many ways. Even when they were not in physical proximity, they would be together and feel each other. But they were also more centered upon themselves and they were not as influenced by the mood of the other as they had been ;)) they had reached a more balanced relationship and were beginning to intensify the movement.
          Yann had also begun to be aware of a humming tone, inaudible, but very present. It was humming under the veil of this reality and he had been told it was one of his language of communication. This was very intriguing and it was overlapping his interest in his body and his teeth, he was wondering about the effects of this humming tone on them.

          #882
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Ms Beryl?
            — Yes.
            — Tell me more about this whole sneezing… You can’t be serious about that deposition. You have sworn on the Book of Flove, and perjury is a grave offense.
            — I know that, Sir.
            — Perfect. And notwithstanding, you maintain your deposition.
            — Notwithstandingly, I do Sir.
            — That will be all.

            :fleuron2:

            A few days later, the case on what happened of the time-travelling goats was close owing to blatant lack of evidence.
            Some later said that the judge fondness for the annual Fainting Goat Fair won his leniency, but that would be another story…

            #871

            — Who are you? said Alana. And how did you get here?

            The man who was standing before her was smiling mysteriously. She was staring at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice the hint of fear on her face. What was puzzling her most was that she didn’t know who he was working for, was he an agent of the Baron? It was quite unlikely. The French man Langlade had always been working alone since his misadventure with Harry, and the Baron wouldn’t double his agent if unnecessary.

            — My name is Andrimiñ. And as of how I got here… let’s say I know how to get through :) What matters is that I’m here to offer you my assistance…

            His smile was quite hypnotic, and she almost lost track of what was happening (very unusual of her) when a few knocks on the door and Mr Isashi’s voice reminded her of her guest.

            Are you all right, Aunt?

            The man was staring at her with his blue eyes, she had a strange feeling and she knew she had to move quickly.

            Aunt? Is there someone with you? I heard a man…

            — I can show you how to activate the skull, Atiara. And help you with this man.

            Suddenly she knew she could trust him. Something in his last words… there was much unsaid, and the name he gave her… she was having the weirdest feelings about it. As if it was perfectly fitting. She smiled to him, her tensions released. He was now looking at the door.

            — Bring our guest in, Mr Isashi.

            The face she turned to the door was full of a new strength, mixed with a strange feeling of familiarity.

            #840

            You have summoned us, Master Tfark
            Yes, young Piawan

            The magpie known as Robert X was standing in front of a glowing bluish light emitted by a glass ball full of sand nearly as big as the gnome standing before it.
            Inside the ball, one could distinguish a century-old-looking figure, so fat it was almost indiscernible from the pile of cushions on which he was seated in a lotus-like posture. On the forehead of the Master, a third eye was visible, its gaze piercing you through your flesh.

            How is our matter proceeding, Hex?
            Well enough, Master. All preliminary stakeout has taken place according to the plans. We are only waiting for the right conditions to strike and rob the item without being noticed.
            Very well, Hex…

            The three-eyed Master Tfark scratched his chin pensively.

            A convenient surge of atmospheric energy is coming your way, I suppose you are aware. I hope that you’ll make good use of this. Our clients are very eager to get this item back
            Yes, Master. You shall not be disappointed.

            And with that, the communication was ended.

            Robert X stood in front of the now inert communication device, visibly preoccupied.

            Sir, you didn’t mention the disappearance of our guest, did you? asked Robert K
            There is nothing yet to report. Let’s do the job and we can quickly leave this place. Next inter-dimensional window will be opened a few moments after the cyclone, that should work out perfectly.
            Sir, yes Sir. Ready to lift the energy cloak as soon as we are ready to strike.
            Perfect then… Remember, without the energy cloak, we’ll have to solely rely on our magpies shifted appearances.
            I know that Sir, this is not my first mission, Sir.
            Very well then. Is there something else?
            There is another thing, Sir.
            What?!
            Some trouble with the bee-keeper I fear

            #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.

            #766

            In the middle of the Aborigines Village in Tasmania, Sam was carrying a heavy wooden pail of kangaroos shite to spread on the crops of the Dreamtime.

            Looking at the scene, a Tasmanian Devil was laughing frantically.
            — Hinhiiinhiiiin, that old woman was tricky wasn’t sheeeeeee?

            He was now standing in front of a huge rainbow-coloured Nanaconda.

            #755

            — “Sha! I think I’ve had one of them bloody brainwaves of mine!”

            — “You are the smart one Glor … ‘ang on, I’ll just light my fag then I can listen proper.”

            — “Well you know how Vessie has been so good to us and I still feel a bit awful about breaking that bloody door down.”

            — “We meant well though Glor. Our hearts were in the right places.”

            — “They were Sha … but then her bloke being there and all …. well that dress she was wearing Sha, it barely covered her privates.”

            — “She’s a native girl though Glor,” Sharon giggled, “She’d have grown up wearing them little grass skirts and not much else I reckon …. mind she’s ever so nice though ain’t she.”

            — “Oh she is …. and there’s nowhere to buy clothes on this bloody island neither, she must have to make do, bless ‘er little ‘eart.”

            — “It could do with a mall I reckon Glor,” said Sharon reflectively, “this place would really take off if there was a small mall.”

            — “I think you’re onto something there Sha, oh that would be bloody marvellous I reckon, a small mall.”

            — “Anyway what’s your brainwave then Sha? I’m all agog with curiousness.”

            — “Well I reckon with all the eating and lying around we’ve been doing I’ve gained a bit…. what do you reckon Sha?”

            — “You might have done a bit Glor,” said Sharon eyeing her friend thoughtfully, “you can carry a bit extra though, and it goes to all the right places on you, you look right sexy, I reckon our Harry would think so anyway”

            — “Oh give over Sha! “ Gloria blushed and giggled. “Anyway back to my brainwave … well that Vessie is quite slim … “

            — “A bit on the skinny side really, Glor, needs a bit of meat on them bones of ‘ers to be what you would call proper sexy like us, and very tall with it ain’t she.”

            — “Yes athletical, most of them island girls are I reckon. Anyway, listen up Sha, a few of my things ain’t been fitting so well and …and ‘ere’s my master plan Sha …Da da ….” she paused dramatically, “I thought I could hunt out something nice for Vessie!”

            — “Oh that’s bloody genius Glor! you’ve got a real kind heart you ‘ave! You’re a bloody saint even … did you ‘ave something special in mind?”

            — “Did I what Sha!” Gloria’s eyes were shining with delight at her own generosity. “You remember that pink frock, the one I wore when you and Harry got ‘itched, with the wee roses on it. Well I bought it with me! I thought you daft fool! when I packed it, what you taking that bloody thing for? … I reckon it was my psychic abilities I got ‘anded down from my Aunty Philly, God rest her soul, made me bring it.”

            — “Oh you’ve still got that frock! That were bloody gorgeous …. well bless your bloody heart Glor!”

            — “Well its got sentimentical value of course,” said Glor looking serious. Her voice lowered, “ Between you and me though Sha, I do feel for that poor girl. I mean she’s pretty enough .. but she’s got no bloody idea how to make the best of what she’s got. It’d be a bit on the short side mind …. but I don’t think she’d mind that, not if that last dress is anything to go by, and I’m right handy with the needle and thread if it needs any fixing” she paused for a moment thinking, “Sha! I think I’ve ‘ad another bloody brainwave! We could give her a full beauty makeover, the bloody works, with all our beauty know-how … that lippy she was wearing ..” her voice trailed off and she shook her head sadly.

            — “Wrong shade of red weren’t it,” Sharon nodded understandingly. “She’s going to have to make a bit more effort if she’s to keep that bloke of hers.”

            — “Well I’ll ‘ave him any day,” giggled Gloria

            — “Oh you’re bloody wicked, you are Glor! If your Joe could ‘ear you now! …. ‘ere you’ll ‘ave to fight me for ‘im though! … ere,” she said looking around and lowering her voice conspiratorily, “maybe we could have one of them threesomes!”

            — “Oh stop Sha, you’re too bloody much you are!” spluttered Gloria, barely able to control her mirth. “Serious now though Sha, that Vessie might be a bit overcome and shy like, with all our generousness and kindheartedness, we have to make sure she knows we ain’t taking NO for a bloody answer!”

            #752
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              India Louise , standing in the draughty upstairs hallway outside Bill the artist’s bedroom, jumped out of her skin as Nanny Gibbon rushed down from her room on the third floor shouting, OCH AYE THE NOO! There’s a moose loose aboot the hoose!

              Nanny Gibbon stopped abruptly when she saw India Louise.

              Och, lassie, and what are you doing here in the wee hours of the night?

              Er…..India had to think quickly. She couldn’t tell Nanny that she was hoping to tell Bill about the mummy that she and Eugenia had found in the unlocked ‘Locked Room’, so she said: There was a moose in my room! It went that way! she said, pointing up the stairs from which Nanny Gibbon had just descended.

              OCH! The hoose is infested with moose! What’ll we doooo?

              India Louise looked up at Nanny Gibbon quizzically. What was with all the ‘Och Aye’s’? Nanny was from Brittany, not Glasgow, what was the matter with her? Then India recalled the Scottish Dialect classes that Nanny had been attending…..obviously with a good deal of success.

              The truth was that Nanny Gibbon was terrified of mice (which is how non-Scots pronounce moose); she suspected a reincarnational drama involving moose, er, mice, was the root of it all.

              India was trying to think of something helpful to say (and congratulating herself on her quick thinking, although she regretted adding to Nanny’s alarm) when a shriek came from the direction of Cuthbert’s bedroom.

              Nanny and India Louise raced along the corridor and banged on Cuthbert’s door.

              OCH AYE, what NOO? Are ye alright, ma wee bairn? Open the dooor, Cuthbert! Nanny cried.

              A pale trembling Cuthbert opened the door. I had an awful nightmare! I was reading our book, you know, the funny one with the blank pages, and I turned into a wolf

              Och, there, there, ma wee laddie, there’s nay a wolf in the hoose, it’s a moose!

              Cuthbert looked up at Nanny and said, rather rudely, Are you alright? Why are you talking like that?

              #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.

              #2126

              In reply to: Snooteries

              The SnootThe Snoot
              Participant

                The Snoot is glad to allow your understanding of the situation that is not so easy to understand given the different probabilities involved in this sin aqua nun…
                Thou shouldst open thy heart to the red juice of the red fruit of the redimensionality of the skull.
                The nuns are not a particularly dangerous kind of people in that they are just red and fining their own understanding of the process of the energy of their snoot.
                Each being has a snoot in it.
                Sand Snow also is snootified in being here for saww slang.

                Thou shouldst also watch the magpies as they are from the same tribe, though they act together.

                The Cutie Snootie extends to thy all its snootpreciation in the form of a Gibbon.

                Gibbon_.jpg

                #2121

                In reply to: Snooteries

                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  To all our readers:

                  El Sanso will be standing in for our dear Snoot, while he takes a much needed reality break.

                  If you have any questions, dear readers, El Sanso will be happy to respond.

                  :yahoo_chatterbox: :yahoo_thinking:

                  #703

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                  :fleuron:

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

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

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

                  Continue…

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

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

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

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

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

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

                  #697
                  AvatarJib
                  Participant

                    Unable to focus his attention on the now, Yann was amazed at his ability to create misunderstandings all around him.
                    People that were calling him, people that were emailing him… even himself with himself!
                    Trying to work, he was always clicking on the “wrong” mail, the “wrong” application, the “wrong” icon… wrong wrong wrong… he was laughing inwardly, thinking about what their friend Abby had told them yesterday about always thinking on the lack of or on the I can’t have it… well she was always doing this movement as if she was playing drums… and today at work, a friend of his came and told him it was an beautiful Monday, and she did this very same movement of playing the drum!!! he wasn’t aware that it was quite fitting the day coming.

                    Though he could still focus on what was accomplishments in this day full of seeming obstacles. He really appreciated having lunch with Yurick, and laughing, talking of dolphins and stuffs ;)) well they were planning and doing many things now that they were living together.

                    Inspiration was here again, and the motivation too.

                    He had a dream last night about something that seemed quite important, something connected to him intimately. Almadar :yahoo_idea: what was the name about?

                    When telling Yurick, it appeared that he had no impression about it, nonetheless he seemed quite interested, and it was also a synch as Yurick was also in the dream. Yann was asking him about modifying a pattern, energetic pattern to help a girl… :yahoo_thinking:

                    Who was she? She seemed familiar.

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