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  • #888

    Franiel lifted the metal latch and pushed open the creaking door of the old shed. In the darkness he could make out of the shape of boxes and other various objects, then, as his eyes became more accustomed to the darkness, he saw the motorbike propped up against the far wall.

    What are you up to young man?

    Franiel jumped and spun around. It was Lydia, just returned from her journey to the market.

    Oh hello again! You startled me … Phoebe suggested I check out the motorbike, see if I can get it going.

    Lydia looked grave. Did she now? Well it’s been many a long year since that piece of junk worked. Anyway so you’ve met Madame Chesterhope then, and what did you make of her? She was giving Franiel that deeply penetrating stare again. Franiel wondered kindly if perhaps she was shortsighted.

    Oh very nice … and I met Vincentius the parrot too.

    Lydia chuckled. Did you now?

    Yes, actually Phoebe told me a rather unusual story.

    At that Lydia broke into gales of laughter. Let me guess, about mixing the aura and the egg?

    Yes, that’s right, replied Franiel, his face breaking into a smile too as he realised the absurdity of it.

    Lydia wiped the tears of laughter from her face. ’Ere Lad, I told you things are not what they always seem. She thought for a moment. I’m parched from my long walk, I am going inside to make a brew. Why don’t you join me? If you are going to be stopping then there are a few things you need to know.

    #884
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Tina sat for some time in the cafe after Becky had left, pondering the implications of Becky’s secret. Becky was right, it was quite exciting in a way, however the repercussions left her reeling … honestly you would think a time traveler would have more sense

      She scratched her head absentmindedly, her scalp had been very itchy lately. She wondered if she had better stop using her homemade egg hair shampoo. Well that was a bugger. She had been planning on marketing it through her business… HEGG FIRST SHAMPOO, with cute little egg people wearing shiny glossy wigs on the label … and, as a special limited time offer, she had been going to give away free Holy Water Conditioning Rinse as well. Sam had kindly agreed to bless it for her with this didjereedoo.

      She looked up just as a female entered the cafe, straight jet black hair, large dark sunglasses, fishnet tights and knee high boots. A black trench coat completed the stunning ensemble. Wow! thought Tina, She looks amazing, so eneggmatic and sexy. As though she had heard her thoughts the woman turned, and upon catching Tina’s eye, hurriedly looked away and walked quickly out of the cafe.

      How odd, thought Tina.

      Later, as she was researching black wigs on the internet … of course she could change the colour and structure of her hair through mind techniques, but that was still a bit slow for Tina, Al entered the room.

      Tina, are you busy?

      Uh Oh! Tina knew that tone of voice. She braced herself. Could Al have heard about Becky’s news ??? She told Becky there were no secrets!

      Your latest comments in the reality play are really really great. Most entertaining and unusual.

      Uh, thanks …. Tina said cautiously.

      I was just wondering however whether you had considered the time frame of your characters?

      Oh yeah course … you know .. give or take a few years .. or so …

      There are a few discrepancies I noticed, he went on, and it really does become rather problematic, some might say “messy” even.

      Tina rolled her eyes and grunted non-commitedly.

      Thanks Sweetie, I knew you wouldn’t mind sorting it out, said Al.

      #867
      AvatarJib
      Participant

        “Actually, Sam said, you are already pregnant. I don’t know if you had realized it, but it is clear in your energy. You are creating a vortex entry point in your womb.”

        He winked mischievously.

        “It all seems to be about influence and suggestion these days, he added with a wink. Remember, you are playing with these probabilities not because you are a victim of them, but because they present an interest to you. And remember also that they would be all actualized by one of your probable selves nonetheless.”

        Becky did the rolling eyes, and it seemed she wouldn’t stop when Sam burst into laughter and hugged her. He kissed her swiftly and said :

        “You can call Sean now, he understands more about it than you realize.”

        #866
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          When Sam explained gently to Becky about the essences waiting for an entry point into this dimension, the ones that had chosen her, Becky, she was at a loss as to know what to think.

          Well I don’t want to let them down, Sam, she said mournfully.

          Sam laughed and said, You won’t be letting them down, silly. They’ll find another entry point. There’s no shortage of pregnant women in this dimension, you know.

          But I feel like they’re mine already, Sam, I feel responsible for them now.

          Laughing loudly, Sam reminded her that resposibility was her own core truth, and not an absolute one. Other essences are not your responsibility, you daft goose!

          I know that, but I feel somehow connected to them now. I’ll always wonder about them, worry that they made a bad choice and chose a horrid entry point…her voice trailed off, and then she giggled. I’m talking absolute rubbish aren’t I?

          Frankly, yes, dear, winked Sam. Anyway, aren’t you confusing two separate issues here, Becky? In the future probability that you viewed, Sean was a drunkard, and you had many children. They are not necessarily connected, you know. Sam winked again, and Becky blushed and whacked him over the head with the cushion she’d been clutching.

          Oh stop! I haven’t even been on my honeymoon yet!

          #862

          “Actually, that’s it! Quintin had feared the implications, as lots of people did.
          It would mean everything would be allowed. Everything would be true, even the most blatant contradictions would be harmoniously living side by side.”

          Becky smiled at the marvelously appropriate Reality Play entry that she’d found whilst randomly reading back through their script notes.

          She’d had a hard time explaining to Sean about the probability glitch in which the note had appeared in the ‘wrong’ reality. He understood the concept of probable realities eventually, but he was hurt and confused as to why Becky had even thought to make up that probability in the first place. Becky hadn’t told him the full story about the dream, feeling that it may in some way be a self fulfilling prophecy if Sean knew that (in one probability, at any rate) he ended up an alcoholic, not to mention all those children! The very thought of all those children was enough to make Becky break out in a sweat, and she wasn’t inclined to add energy to that probable future.

          Becky explained that she had written the note to Sean (in the Reality Play) to tell him she was leaving him merely as a method of introducing some new characters, but Sean was deeply wounded.

          She did her best to placate her new husband and take his mind off it, even going so far as to don the shrunken tarty nun outfit. But after the romantic interlude, when Becky had fallen asleep, Sean was unable to stop thinking about it, and he wandered dejectedly into the kitchen, and poured himself a large whiskey.

          In an ironic twist of fate, a glimpse into a probable future had affected the present, and Sean’s descent into confused drunkenness began in earnest.

          #850
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Stop it, STOP IT! Becky shouted, clamping her hands over her ears, It was a futile action, as the voices were inside her head, and not likely to be halted by her pointless automatic reaction.

            She lit a cigarette with shaking hands and picked up a magazine in an attempt to calm down. She opened the copy of Crisp at random, her eyes unfocused.

            I’ll think about this later, she said to herself, when I’m feeling a bit better. Relaxing her tense hunched shoulders, she focused on the glossy pages. She had opened the magazine to the Essencopes page, and read the Borledim forecast for the month ahead.

            That’s it! She said excitedly. I’ll change my alignment! I’ll change it to, um, let me think…..
            Becky sighed, muttering to herself, How on earth does one change ones alignment?

            You said you were going to ‘think’ about it tomorrow, said the voice.

            Bugger off, you. Becky snapped. Good point, though.

            She picked up Crisp again, this time noticing that the scopes were written by her old schoolfriend, Luce Mong.

            Luce! Well, I never! exclaimed Becky with a smile. Luce Mong! Last I heard she was in Long Pong with Leah Muir. I wonder where she’s living now?

            #847

            Becky’s heart was racing and her breath was coming in short rasping breaths. I need to change probabilities, and I need to do it fast! There’s not a moment to lose.

            Maybe I can change the past, she thought, change it to a probability in which I didn’t marry Sean in the first place. Oh Lordy, but how do I do that exactly? Her head was spinning.

            Maybe I should just run away, now, pack my bags and disappear before Sean gets back from the bar.

            No, that won’t do, she said, biting her lip in consternation. I want to keep the wedding presents, especially that YouDo doll.

            Becky rummaged through the pile of magazines, looking for the script of the Reality Play. Oh dear god, if I change probabilities Al and the others will kill me, it will make such a mess of the threads.

            Becky was distraught. What shall I do! she exclaimed, wringing her hands.

            BREATHE, a deeply resonant female voice said. BREATHE into YOU, that’s right, BREATHE…..

            Becky stopped wringing her hands and drew a shaky breath.

            That’s right, the voice continued, BREATHE into YOU…..

            Becky took another deep breath.

            BREATHE…..

            Oh for heavens sake, Becky interrupted rather rudely, That’s enough of that blimmen breathing for now, thank you very much, now bugger off, I need to think.

            The voice in her head changed to a masculine one, that said with a chuckle, “THINKING” is absolutely FATAL, my dear, just DO what ever is easiest for YOU.

            You mean, do whatever I want, and bugger everyone else? asked Becky. Wouldn’t that be a bit inconsiderate? I mean, don’t I have a responsibility to the others?

            HAHAHAH, you are funny, said the voice. Did all that Seth and Elias stuff go in one ear and out the other?

            What Seth and Elias stuff? Haha, just kidding, of course I remember it all. Reading about it and actually DOING it, well, they are two different things……her voice trailed off, and she frowned, deep in thought.

            Thinkin’ aint doing, said the voice.

            #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…

              #2022

              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

              EricEric
              Keymaster

                Within dark laughing, light smiled
                Wondering synchs gibbon
                Others behind walk
                Mind moment wondered
                connection stopped?
                Although
                Brought hand friends free.

                #1764

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  This afternoon we stopped at a little winery which is only open a few months of the year. I was staring at the red tops of the wine bottles to the point even of reaching out and touching one of them and saying “that’s nice” :yahoo_rolling_eyes: which made people look at me in wonder. When I got home I saw Tracy’s remote view object, so well .. my point is really … do you think I won?

                  #1759

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    SOME OF TODAY’S SYNCHS:

                    EGGLETON
                    reading a magazine in cafe, kept seeing the name Elise Eggleton … a journalist, seems to report mainly on appearance medicine type stuff .. (wonder if she knows about Dr B?) :face-kiss:

                    PINK PIXIES/PIXELS AND EASY
                    Jib mentioned this morning pink pixies .. pixels? Today a woman emailed with a request for an accommodation gift voucher. I have not done gift vouchers before as the whole thing felt a bit complicated to organise … however decided it would be EASY so said YES we do gift vouchers. I looked at the clock on the computer and it was 1:23 just to confirm this easiness. She emailed straight back and said she wanted to go ahead and could i send her one in electronic format? Well I felt a bit stressed by this and not very creative and under time pressure :yahoo_worried: so looked up gift voucher templates. There were quite a few, one was called PINK PIXELS. After trying all of them out I decided to use this one, and with some modifications it actually looks really good. :yahoo_kiss: thank you Jib for your help. (not so easy to post gifts :yahoo_sad: )

                    PINK AND POOH AND PANDA SYNCHS:
                    This afternoon i went to visit my friend Katie. This might not seem momentous but the thing is she is one of my closest friends but i have not seen her for about 2 years. She only lives 10minutes drive away. We did not have a falling out or anything, but I just stopped making contact with people and have been quite introverted. Anyway there was no sense of not having seen each other for ages or anything … just the strange thing for me was that her children seemed to have grown so much. The two youngest ones, Emily and William, both were playing with bright pink balloons :balloon: and even though it was a hot day Emily had bright pink tights on. William wanted to show me his book. There were two pictures he loved and pointed out for me .. one was of a Panda which he said was the “cutest picture in the book”. The other one he loved he said was “POOH” and he was quite delighted with this. Well yes it was a picture of pooh believe it or not. It was a design of a castle and showed a big “long drop” and a man shovelling pooh at the bottom of it.

                    RAT SYNCHS :mouse:
                    A short while ago I googled rats as pets, not because I wanted one, just out of interest. I found it fascinating all the anecdotes about what good pets they are and how intelligent etc etc. :agreed: I found it interesting as they are an animal which is commonly hated by many people. Anyway Katie told me that her other daughter, Ella, came rushing home from Kindy School the other day saying she really REALLY wanted a rat as a pet and is quite determined to get one. Katie was not happy about this. I was able to share all my positive rat information with her and now I think Ella will get her rat. :yahoo_nerd:

                    NUMBER PLATES
                    On the way home I thought how wonderful all the synchs were, and as I thought this I saw YES 57. For a short while on the way home i followed ERIC 1. I also saw BEEZ. Also HONEY8, which is another variation of the HONEYB one I saw. I do find it interesting all these bee related number plates within such a small area. Related to this, Sir Ed was on the news tonight as the Queen had a memorial service for him today at St Georges Chapel in Windsor Castle. (sir Ed was the original HONEYB synch on the day he died at the age of 88, he was a HONEY BEE keeper as well as mountain climber – this explanation is for Tracy who finds it hard to remember things)

                    555’S
                    still seeing lots of these, the last two evenings have logged on at 5:55pm

                    MISC:
                    Mr X bought me some cookies with hunks of ginger in them. Also I bought myself some passionfruit yoghurt. But I don’t think that was a synch really. I think I bought it because I had been talking about them.

                    oh that’s right, the girl buying the pink pixels gift voucher was also named Emily

                    F :heart:

                    #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.

                    #787
                    EricEric
                    Keymaster

                      A draft suddenly went through the open window, rattling a pile of previously disarrayed papers that Finnley had neatly put on the desk, catching the office cleaner by surprise.
                      (Albert is wondering now what is the gender of Finnley, but probably that has to do with his new exploration and isn’t very important. Al is agreeing with himself on using handy ellipsis)

                      Finnley, perplexed by the thoughts having went in accompanying the rogue wind, closed the opened window. The air was decidedly more breathable, now the emanations of nicobeck were dispersed. Not to mention the trails of that magpie’s droppings. Finnley would gladly do with a bootle to roll them into a big ball.

                      What was with the third-person talking anyway? Finnley was wondering… And who is Al? Finnley knew of a Haley, but no Al for sure…
                      Surely that Tattler’s madness was contagious…

                      Putting the papers back onto the desk of Mrs Tattler (yes, I think she’s a she this one), Finnley notices something that catches Finnley’s eye (“stop messing with my thoughts!” thinks Finnley)…

                      … They were thus one of the first sentient races created by the Powers with limited awareness to populate the lands of Dooane (note: replace all previous occurrences of “Earth” with Dooane, and M’si with Moortuane). Uglings were dwarfish, a bit stout and let’s say plain ugly for most of them. But they inherited a keen mind and greatest forging skills.
                      Uglings revered the Power known to them as the Goddess of the Earths, Margiloonia, as their resemblance with raw clay and unpolished rocks were for them the evidence of such lineage. Combining their craft, they created an exquisite cup in dedication to the Goddess. Huriol, the First Ugling King in these times of Legend was given the cup to care for.
                      The Power known as Margiloonia upon seeing this offering of acknowledgment to her was very pleased and imbued the cup with transmootation powers which could be used by its true owner for healing, and some said, even to resurrect the flesh…

                      A loud knock at the door drew Finnley out of the contemplation.

                      Isn’t that vacooming done yet? I have a book to write! The stridulent voice of Elizabeth Tattler was asking behind the still closed door.

                      #769
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Hang on a minute, Sam said to the Nanaconda. I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve dealt with this bucket of dung.

                        The rainbow Nanaconda raised her eyebrows (or gave the impression of that facial expression, at any rate).

                        As Sam tipped the bucket out, hundreds of dung beetles scurried in every direction.

                        Whoa! exclaimed Sam, taking an involuntary step backwards.

                        Nanaconda sniggered in a somewhat sinister fashion and said, Ah, the Symbolic scarab beetles strike again.

                        As Sam stood transfixed by the sight of the beetles running in all directions, an extraordinary thing happened. All the beetles stopped moving, as one, and then with a seemingly united purpose, they all started moving in the same direction. Within seconds a long black army of dung beetles marched off across the field.

                        Sam picked up the empty bucket and followed them.

                        Nanaconda followed him, grinning wickedly.

                        #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?

                          #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.

                            #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.

                            #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!”

                            #731
                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

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

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

                              You ask him! replied Sanso.

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

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

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

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

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

                              Zhana started to cry.

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

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

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

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

                              Sanso looked perplexed. I DID ask toad!

                              No, you DIDN’T, retorted Zhana.

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

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

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

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

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

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