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  • #1361
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      :yahoo_surprise: Yikes! I just flooded NY…….that’ll teach em to mess with the Tuaregs….:yahoo_rofl:

      #1527

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Just opened the de Foucauld book and found the legendary giant of the Tuaregs, called Elias! :face-surprise:

        #323

        — The legend of Mævel — (Part II)

        The young fairy princess, whose secret name had been forgotten, and thus her very existence to whoever had known her, grew up as a beautiful child.
        Mævel she was, and the youngest of the clan too. Her delicate features stood out of the many children that Jorg and Ilga, her human parents already had, and they first saw her as probably their most useless child, being frail and unfit to the works of the woods. But she’d been saved from a sure death, and that had proved to them that the child was some odd gift from the Gods.

        Mævel looking at her brothers and sisters, was constantly reminded of how different she was, as small and fair and fragile as a sparfly’s egg. She helped her mother Ilga as much as she could in the kitchen, preparing meals for the clan. Her parents did not know how she could ever get a husband, as she would never be much of a great cook either.
        So, she was feeling not fulfilled by what she was doing. She loved her parents, and sisters, and brothers, but there was something else that she did not know how to express.
        During the springing and sunny seasons, and even the rainy and icy one, she would go after her works had been done to the little meadow brook, and watch for hours the little rosy trouts dancing in the clear waters.

        And much of her young years passed, and she learned how to cook, how to sew and how to wash clothes and many other tasks that could help the family. She had improved much in her skills and could do wonderful adornments to her sisters and brothers clothes. But noone cared about the adornments, which would be useless for them. But they loved their little sister nonetheless, though they did not understand.
        Soon, all the elder brothers left the house, one by one, and the sisters too. And as Mævel turned twenty one, she was left alone with old Jorg and old Ilga.

        That day, her parents had offered her a pearl white ribbon, for her to tie her hair, and they had thought it would probably please her, as it was as useless a thing as their mind could imagine. And indeed she was delighted by the gift, and to please her parents, she had danced and sung in the night, barefooted on the floorboard, her shiny golden hair swirling around her, as they both loved her to do.

        The next day, Mævel went to the brook to wash some clothes, when she noticed a reddish bluish spark of light coming from the forest nearby. How strange she thought. Perhaps it is only my imagination. But soon, a plaintiff cry came from the same direction, and she was deeply moved by the cry.
        Leaving her clothes to dry up, she went to the forest, knowing she could trust her instincts and that no wild beast would harm her. Calling to see if someone was there, a voice called her, crying “here, here!”

        Behind some fern trees, she was surprised as she saw a wounded blue fox. Was it the fox that had spoken?
        — Yes, that was me, answered the blue fox
        — Oh, a talking fox! You are wounded, aren’t you? asked Mævel
        — Yes, a stupid arrow from a stupid hunter… I can’t extract it, would you help me?
        — Of course, answered Mævel, hold on a second.

        And she leaned forward to draw the arrow from the fox’s leg, holding fast so that it would not hurt the creature. She was just knowing what to do, as if she had done it many times already. Then she drew out her white handkerchief, and bandaged the bleeding wound, tying it tightly with her pearl white ribbon.

        — I must leave now, said the fox, I am greatly indebted to you, young lady
        — Will you tell me your name?
        — I am called Blohmrik. And may I inquire as to your name?
        — I’m called Mævel, but you can call me Mæ
        — Such a lovely name…
        — How come you are a talking fox?
        — I was not always in the form that you see now. This form is due to a curse from the God of the Forgotten, from which I foolishly tried to stole secrets when I was a young god learning magic.
        Ooh, so you are a god? Mævel was amazed
        — Oh, smiled sadly the fox, as you are also, though you probably don’t realize. Gods are not so different than what you think…
        — Oh, really? So there isn’t anything I can do for you, is there?
        — You have already done much for today Mæ
        Mævel was blushing… She dared ask to her new friend
        — And will I see you again?
        — Perhaps sooner than you know.

        #317

        Ibn al’ Gruk was weary.
        That lone grake he had seen flying over the desert settlement this morning had baffled him.
        Usually, such creatures where not migrating at this season, and this one was lone too, which was all the more baffling.

        The old gripshawk had seen many things in his life, but this was surely a presage of importance. In the myths of his people, the big colourful birds were once thriving in the desert oasis, where they were thought to have appeared in the Old Times. But having been extensively hunted down as food for the gripshawk tribes, they had moved away, and the balance had been broken.
        It had prompted lots of the tribes to move apart, in search of food and exchanges, and few of them were now still living in the deserts as they did in the old ways. Many of them, for many generations now, had been creating cities on the coast, and the most flourishing one was Chafik’ An, where a traveling portal had been erected by the humans from Lan’Ork to facilitate exchanges and trades.

        All of that, despite his old age (that his long mop of white angora hair under his chin could account for), Ibn al’ Gruk had only heard all of this through the lineage of his ancestors, but he had seen some of the conflicts that had been created, and he understood that change again was in the air.

        He felt like he could weave a new tale to entertain the settlement tonight, and perhaps give them inkling as to the new changes to come.
        For he felt changes were coming, and that they had been in motion already.

        ***

        The night was clear, and lots of people had gathered around the big bonfire. They all loved these regular meetings where everyone would meet and share food, drinks and over all, gaiety.

        He started to drum low deep sounds and cleared his throat.
        A fit of cough got him by surprise, but it was just a hairball that he spat in the fire, which set ablaze immediately, providing some dramatic effect that hushed everyone down.

        “In a mysterious land far far away,” started Ibn al’ Gruk, with a growling voice…

        ***

        Egypt, 2657 B.C.

        Lekshen had dreamt of Set that night. The god had appeared to him in one of his familiar forms, that of a long snouted animal .
        Lekhsen was wondering why the god had requested such a task for him to do, but he was certainly in the perfect position to accomplish such a task.
        Like Set, Lekhsen came from Upper Egypt, the arid land, and he had managed to get a high-ranking responsibility in fertile Lower Egypt as a scribe thanks to the unification efforts of Pharaoh.

        But Pharaoh’s daughter had just died… right after her 10 year old brother, and Pharaoh’s himself felt He would not live much longer.
        Which would mean that the closest male in the family would be likely to get on the throne of Egypt. And that would be bad news for people like him, as the brothers and brothers-in-law of Pharaoh did not appreciate much His policy.

        In the dream, the strange creature had asked him to hide something with the mummy of Pharaoh’s daughter. It had told him people would forget about how Set was fighting for Ra, the Sun, each night that the bark was traveling on the dangerous underworld waters. They would forget, and would demonise him and his people, and he, Lekhsen would have to write the story, and bury it with the Princess. His status would allow him to do it unscathed.

        “Would people ever remember they once were One?” had asked Lekshen to the god.
        “Only you can tell” had the creature answered.

        #303

        Becky woke up in a sweat. Her bedclothes were tangled and what remained of her pillow was on the floor. The room was full of downy feathers.

        Sheesh, said Becky, pushing sweaty strands of hair out of her eyes and reaching for her cigarettes.

        What a dream! Wow, I wonder what that witch did to deserve that! Becky couldn’t quite believe she’d had such a violently aggressive dream. All she could really remember was attacking a witch, and slapping her repeatedly, and punching her, screaming all the while DON’T…EVER….DO THAT AGAIN Wangwangawanga…… DON’T DO IT wangawanga… then the witch had turned into a goose, but still Becky kept punching her, causing the poor gooses feathers to fly everywhere, and all the while Becky kept shouting WANGAWANGAWANGA……

        I can’t believe I did that, even in a dream! Becky hated violence so much that she walked out of the room if a violent scene was showing on the television, and she loved witches and geese.

        That poor goose! Becky decided to go back into the dream, to smooth what was left of the gooses ruffled feathers, and apologize.

        She stubbed out her cigarette, and settled back against the pillows and closed her eyes. Now the goose was looking at her reproachfully, in between straightening her plumage, and huffing and tutting a bit.

        I’m awfully sorry about that! I don’t know why I did it. Becky hoped it was a forgiving kind of goose, and not a vengeful one.

        It matters not, I suppose, grumbled the goose, I must have created being slapped around by a sweaty madwoman, though gawd knows why.

        Were you a witch in another focus? Becky asked. Because I was angry with a witch initially, not a big white goose and I don’t know how I came to be pummeling you. Come to think of it, I don’t know why I was attacking the witch either. The witch did look unpleasant though, but you look nice enough….

        Well I don’t look very blimmen nice with my feathers in this state, dearie! And don’t remind me of that dratted witch focus, gawd, I was horrid. Not surprised you lashed out at that one!

        Becky started to relax. Things were looking promising. The goose was turning out to be rather sweet.

        But as you can see, continued the goose, I am not a witch, I am a big white goose now, a rather sweet one too, even if I do say so myself, so let’s hear no more about it.

        Becky smiled broadly at the goose. I appreciate that very much! Oh by the way…what’s your name?

        Angela, answered the goose, Angela Wing.

        REALLY? Becky said, rather rudely, and then caught herself and said: Angela! What a lovely name! Angela Wing, would you like to be in our play?

        #1448
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          http://www.north-of-africa.com/article.php3?id_article=418

          This might be a better link for the comment about the connection between Egypt and Tuaregs :) :weather-clear:

          as well as the Egypt connection :

          At Jabbaren, he found a city with alleys, cross-roads and squares. The walls were covered with hundreds of paintings. Jabbaren is a Tuareg word meaning “giants” and the name refers to the paintings found inside the city, some of which depict human figures that are indeed gigantic in size. One of them measured up to eighteen feet high. Several of these paintings depicted “Martians” and for Lhote, it was the first time he discovered paintings of hundreds of oxen. Jabbaren was soon labelled one of the oldest sites of the Tassili.

          I think the mummy may be 6 meters tall………(Rahim told me that the tombs there were extraordinarily long….and we did have a giant enter the story ….) :yahoo_thinking:

          ~~~~~~~~~

          AND: The Tassili n’Ajjer

          …..the Hoggar Mountains and the Tassili n’Ajjer, one of the most enchanting mountain ranges on this planet……

          There were largely two forms of rock paintings, distinguishable by the location in which they were found. Some were found in rock shelters, such as at Aouanrhet. These sites were where the shaman performed his divination, as the face of a rock was often seen as a doorway to another dimension (another parallel with the paintings in the French caves).

          (this reminds me of Oversoul Seven! # book by Jane Roberts)

          Though one could interpret their location as the work of a nomadic people, Lhote’s team also found several urban settlements.
          He found small concentrations of human activity around Tan-Zoumiatak in the Tin Abou Teka massif. It was a little rocky citadel that dominated the gorge below. The citadel was cut through with a number of narrow alleys. Lhote described the art he found here as: “There were life-size figures painted in red ochre, archers with muscular arms and legs, enormous ‘cats’, many scenes with cattle, war-chariots and so forth. Up to this time I had never seen figures of this sort in the Tassili and the mass of paintings that I managed to view that day quite put into the shade all those I had seen up to then.”

          more:

          http://www.philipcoppens.com/tassili.html

          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

          ENORMOUS CATS?????? :yahoo_surprise:

          #1521

          In reply to: Synchronicity

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Another funny sync about last comment (the one with Janice and Rodney, adapted from a chat session with Tracy).

            The dream that Janice recalls is one I made this morning, I had not thought about that cabbage sync yet.
            And at the moment I read about the Wildes that Illi’s family knew, I have Jib’s SMS’ing me that he was in Père Lachaise…

            Funney :face-surprise:

            #298

            The City, year 2257

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

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

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

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

            ~~~

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

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

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

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

            ~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            #282

            — The legend of Mævel — (Part I)

            as told by Cpt Bone to young Tomkin

            In the time of the Gods, the King of the Fairies, Aldurion, fell in love with a beautiful mortal named Theÿa.
            He wanted to make her his Queen but only the Elder Gods could bestow the gift of immortality upon mortals.
            So he went to see Ghört, the God of the Airs. Ghört could certainly grant him what he requested, but for that, Theÿa would have to be transformed into an air sprite. Aldurion wouldn’t be able to hold her again. So he declined the offer, and went to see another Elder God.
            Then, he went to see Nærvel, the Goddess of the Waters. But Nærvel could grant him immortality if Theÿa was to be transformed into a water sprite. So Aldurion declined again.
            Then he went to see Agnima, the Goddess of the Flames, and then Selvaniel the God of the Woods, and Margilonia the Goddess of the Earths. But all of their conditions were the same, Theÿa would have to be transformed into an immaterial and immortal elemental fairy. But Aldurion couldn’t bear to have her changed into something else than she was.

            Then, only one of the Elder Gods was left, the one than few of the Immortals dared talk to, and of whom most mortals were afraid, to the point of systematically using the Old Speech respectful form of address (“Shaint”), when referring to him.
            So Aldurion came to see Lejüs, God of the Forgotten.
            Lejüs was greatly pleased to see him. When Aldurion had finished exposing his request, Lejüs took a moment to ponder. Giving immortality was none of his wonts, as he was keeper of the Forgotten. But he was not without compassion, and seeing Aldurion’s plight, he offered to grant his wish at the condition that, not his wife, but their first born child, would become Forgotten.
            Aldurion was so hopeful that all he saw was that the condition seemed so small, based on a future event that perhaps wouldn’t even happen… All he wanted was to have Theÿa as a Queen, and so the deal was made.

            So became Theÿa Queen of the Fairies.

            A few God’s Years later, which meant in human years much more than a few years, Theÿa became pregnant.
            When she announced the news to Aldurion, he was suddenly reminded of the deal he had made with Lejüs, and was quite distraught, as he had not revealed it to Theÿa. But he remained quiet, hoping that Lejüs would have forgotten about the whole story (well, that was forgetting he was Keeper of the Forgotten).
            So Theÿa gave birth to a little baby girl fairy, with golden wavy hair and bright eyes. She, like her mother, had no wings, but there was magic in her. They named her Araoni.

            But Lejüs had not forgotten of course, and came to see the Royal couple to claim the baby. Aldurion pretended that the mother and baby was still very weak, and he would have to come back in a few God’s Days. Lejüs agreed, and left complaisantly.

            Aldurion was at a loss for solutions, but Theÿa was a fairy with lots of ruse, so he decided to reveal it all to her, hoping that she would have a solution.
            Theÿa asked him time to think about this, and told him not to worry.
            Later, she had an idea, quite brilliant she thought. All she had to do was to find another child to give Lejüs.
            So she gave baby Araoni to one of her diligent nurse, the old fairy Gretchÿa, telling her to find a house were a blond new born girl could be exchanged and proceed to the exchange of the babies.

            So Gretchÿa went across the lands of the Worlds, but only in one home she could find a blond baby girl. The new-born baby girl was almost dying, as the parents were a careless couple of peasants, already plagued with many children, and they could not bother with children hesitating to live.
            Gretchÿa was heart-broken when she did the exchange, promising to baby Araoni to get her back soon. The young human baby girl was weak and yet unnamed, and the old fairy nurse knew she would probably not live long, and be claimed by Shaint Lejüs. So all was good.

            When Lejüs came back, he smiled as he saw the baby girl, and left with her without much more words for the Royal couple.
            Lejüs smiled, for when he had taken the young baby, the parents had instantly forgotten about her, and so did everyone having ever known her…

            The human parents, surprised to see the condition of their baby improving beyond all hope, named her Mævel, which meant marvel of Maÿ the month in which she was born.

            #1446
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Oh is there? :face-surprise:

              Anyway, not to sound too bossy, but perhaps you want to ask about the latest instalments…
              Finn is a cool name they say:

              Means “fair” or “white” in Gaelic. Fionn mac Cumhail was a legendary Irish hero who became all-wise by eating an enchanted salmon. He fought against the giant Fomors with his son Oisin and grandson Oscar.

              Cool :yahoo_cool:

              #1343
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                :face-surprise: Oh, too bad, so many people sounded quite exciting though :bounce:

                #270

                Oörlaith heard the sound of a barking dog not far from her rookery. They were back with his master, and she knew at once their mission was complete.

                A few months ago she had met a strange man, he told her he was called Leonard, and the funny black dog that was following him everywhere was called Moufle. An ancient word for mitten… Well she didn’t ask why he’d call him like that, the dog was so hairy…

                Leonard was a lonely traveller, quite ancient as she could feel, but she wasn’t able to know his actual age. And there were some other weird feelings when she was focusing on his energy tone, something to do with time itself.

                When she first met him she knew he was the one she was looking for for ages. It’s been such a long time she hadn’t heard from her sisters. Oörlaith’d been having these dreams since they chose different direction many years ago, Malvina and Roselÿn, her precious ones. It wasn’t necessary for her then to keep objective contact with them through the glubolín.

                One year ago, the dreams stopped abruptly, and she tried several methods to reach her sisters. None of them with success. All her attempts failed, and she thought first she had lost her own power, but she knew one can not loose power of self, just forget it or create it on purpose. She realized then it was time to recreate these links more objectively.

                She couldn’t find her glubolín though. And Leonard arrived. Fortunately enough he had news from some strange events occurring in the land where she knew Malvina had settled her rookery. Was she still here with Leörmn?

                ***

                Yann had been feeling many impulses to draw scenes from his dreams and from the story they were creating with Quintin, Fiona, and Truth. It was an urge from inside and last night he had a very intense dream activity, most of which he couldn’t remember, it was more like a big forum with many different personalities all exchanging experiences and exploring new avenues.

                He was also attracted by old stories he was writing when he was a student, the one involving Georges and Salome, it seemed to him they had taken a life of their own now, and they felt very powerful, and most of all, they felt like really having fun.

                One of the drawing that was intriguing him was one that represented a sign of sort, in grayish sparkly clouds. He had given the pic a strange title, Oorlath. Yann had connected the name to an individual and was surprised when Quintin told him about a princess named Oörlaith. He was wondering who she was…

                She still had no face when he thought of her… maybe she was hidden for the moment… and he had the strangest thought that she knew Leonard, the man he’d been drawing with his black hairy dog.

                Haha, he had felt her smile.

                ***

                Chiara was looking for the boy she’d met last time in her dreams. Maybe he could give her some berries again, they were really tasty and fluberrish.

                But she’s been looking for him for so long she wonder if she could find the way again…

                Where she was now felt different. The light? The air? She took a deep breathe and just sat down on the grassy land. She had a quick thought that the land were more rocky than grassy a few seconds ago, but as she was feeling the grass under her hands, she dismissed the thought.

                She was hearing birds singing, it was quite funny the way they were bounding from one sound to the other and she could understand what they were saying, much gossips and a few compliments for a new mother ;)) nothing really important to her. She Jibbled.

                Lying down on the mossy land, she was looking… mossy? wasn’t it grassy? Now it’s mossy… hope that wouldn’t become mothy ;))

                She was looking the clouds, some were grayishly sparkling, she was enjoying it…

                “Are you looking for something” a voice said.

                Chiara quickly sat up and gazed at the fat lady who was standing before her.

                “Hahahaha, you found me at least my dear” laughed the woman.

                “My name is Roselÿn, and you are Chiara, aren’t you?”

                The little girl was gaping at Roselÿn… how could she possibly know her name?

                “I feel I know you :yahoo_thinking:” she said dreamily.

                “You make me feel like when I’m with my uncle Yann, and… there’s something else… oh!?”

                #268
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Fiona had more or less given up on getting the pebbles from Yann, deciding they must have got lost in the post, so that evening when she happened to check the mailbox when walking past she was very surprised and delighted to see a package from him. It was way too late for the postie to have been, so she was intrigued as to how they had got there and where they had been all this time.

                  The three pebbles, well a couple of them were more like small rocks really and she was most impressed that Yann had sent them, were from the cave in Scotland he had visited a few months ago. Yann said the small one was from the cliff, the red one was one of the pebbles outside the cave and the grey one was from the stream inside the cave.

                  Fiona held each of them in her hand and got quite a strange feeling from them, and some interesting pictures came into her head…..

                  Yann had also sent a furry toy, a little scottish hairy cow. Apparently on his trip these hairy cows had reminded him of her. Fiona was a little perplexed by the seeming similarity but decided to believe it was a good thing. how quaint! she thought bless him :yahoo_big_hug:

                  #265

                  After Sanso heard the voice “the reason you are looking for is right under your nose” he thought he had better go and have another look at that smelly, well was it smelly? hmmm perhaps not, just a bit mouldy, old cape. Just in case it was a clue and he had missed it.

                  He was surprised and delighted to see Arona, who was still sitting quietly meditating.

                  Oh, goodness, said Arona startled, Who are you?

                  I am Sanso and some people call me a wretched outcast madman wanderer, and Sanso laughed heartily.

                  Arona laughed too, out of politeness and a bit hesitantly, unsure if Sanso was joking or not. Well your words not mine she said

                  Sanso laughed heartily again which Arona found a bit odd. My words indeed he said And who are you and what brings you to explore this cave?

                  I am Arona, and this is Mandrake. I popped in to find the source of the beautiful music I could hear, but my overall mission is learning about magic.

                  Sanso had stopped listening and was gazing at the round glass ball filled with the sand shapes.

                  Good Lord! he gasped, Is that a sabulmantium ! And a very early model too. This is a classic! The later models are much more complex, this is very fundamental, but beautifully made.

                  Oh really, well it is great fun

                  Sanso explained to Arona at length the more technical details of how a sabulmantium worked, and how it could be used like a compass.

                  Fascinating she said, and Mandrake rolled his eyes.

                  #261

                  In searching for a sheet of paper to do some sketches of images going through his mind, Bill found an old poem he had started a long time ago, when he was feeling like he was completely transforming himself. He had not finished the poem, but had kept it all along…

                  It said:

                  I’ve been wandering through the valleys of death
                  Where time knows no ending and all is gray
                  And shadows seek nothing but oblivion itself
                  In mazes of mist, minds’ errands led astray…

                  Perhaps it was time to let go of useless things, Bill thought to himself.

                  He watched the paper slowly smoldering and shrinking and falling to black and white cinders into the hearth.

                  :fleuron:

                  Before going to sleep that night, Quintin had the sensation of Janice’s presence. He was surprised, because she was no longer the little girl he had seen at times, but she was a very pretty young woman, with dark wavy hair.

                  She had giggled at his surprise, telling him that yes, she was catching up with him…

                  :fleuron:

                  The City, year 2255 (%)

                  Today was Janice’s birthday, but not her birthday as the Ancients, two and half a century from her time, would have counted it. It was counted from the time of the conception, as the future parents in this time were fully aware of the agreements they would have with the soul they would decide to give birth to.

                  It was a reminder of this agreement between the parents and the child that was celebrated, and not the actual birth date.

                  Janice had felt Cyprus’ presence quite strongly, and she decided to let herself open to the subjective communication. She was conversing with her friend Qixi, and sent her some energy to let her know she would probably remove her attention for a few moments, knowing she would be accepting.

                  When she closed her eyes, she could immediately feel herself engulfed by the strong yet smooth energy of Cyprus; it was like being kissed by a swarm of blue sparkling butterflies.

                  Then she opened her eyes.

                  She was in an ancient classroom, with Cyprus focused as a teacher figure. Cyprus was seated behind her desk and came at once to great Janice.

                  — Good morning!
                  — Good morning Cyprus, you wanted to say something to me?
                  — In actuality, you wanted me to tell you something, answered Cyprus with a mysterious smile.
                  — Yes, I thought so. Is it about what I am choosing to do as an activity?
                  — Correct.
                  — You are aware that I want to be creating of worlds, and give them to people that would have commissioned them…
                  — Yes, I am aware. And you wanted me to highlight some misconceptions about that.
                  — Oh, misconceptions?
                  — Yes. As you know, with these worlds that you create, you have infinite potential of explorations. You also know that they are not independent from the rest, even when you take great care of encapsulating them in an energy field. And as such, they are not cut-off from yourself, as soon as you deliver them.
                  — It feels like a tremendous responsibility.
                  — It is, and it is not. The responsibility is to yourself, as always. But, I wanted you to be aware that you hold some responsibility, to examine your own injections into these worlds that you create, so that you can be neutralizing what is not desired, and not merely hiding it deeper inside the world itself.
                  — OK, I will do that…
                  — Ahaha, there is another thing, my dear.
                  — Oooh…
                  — You also wanted me to make sure you understood what I meant.
                  — Ahahaha, I see. Wiggling out won’t be as easy as I thought, Janice said with a smile. So, is it the reason for this classroom?
                  — Nothing is hidden from you, as always.

                  So Janice took a look at the sheet of paper on top of her own school desk.

                  — I’ll be around if you need me, reassured Cyprus.
                  — Thank you, said Janice

                  The paper was like a spot test, with a few questions on it.

                  :fleuron2:

                  Study on a Few Contradictory Beliefs

                  1. GUILT

                  a. An old lord has lost contact with his son, because of harsh things said in the past.

                  Write a short story about him realizing how guilt is not effective, and how past can be changed from the point of present by direct action.

                  b. Detail the main beliefs you can see associated with this action of guilt.

                  2. FEAR

                  a. A man chooses to be disengaging by drowning in a river. During his transition, he faces his fears, helped in that by a friendly spirit. The fears take the forms of a forest of trees, all similar, with branches and malicious roots extending to him. In his previous life, the man thought he was a fool, as an excuse to stand out of the numb crowd. But now he faces this crowd again, only to be able to go on his journey and let go.

                  Write a short paragraph about his journey. Place yourself from the perspective of both him and the friendly spirit guiding him through his fears, and see how he helps himself in realizing he does not need to push the fears away, and that they can disappear easily.

                  b. Detail the beliefs associated with his madness, that he needs to let go of in order to be crossing the forest, and go to the Bridge of Daffoldils that leads to his cave of Self.

                  DUPLICITY

                  In association with the last two examples, detail how duplicity (belief in good versus bad) is influencing of each of the actions, and can be neutralised by accepting self and trusting that you shall not betray yourself.

                  :fleuron:

                  Janice gave her paper to Cyprus, who took it and held it for a moment, evaluating the answers.

                  Cyprus then made it burst into a bluish dancing flame, and when the paper had disappeared, smiled at Janice lovingly.

                  #250

                  The boy was approaching in a manner he obviously wanted to be threatening, but the little girl was still giggling unafraid.

                  He took his most growling voice.

                  “Don’t you fear DRRRAAAGONSS?” he blew in her face.

                  “Hahaha. What’s Dregguns?” she said with difficulties as if it was her first attempt in pronouncing the thunderous name.

                  He took a deep breath as if to answer the question and stopped.

                  She was looking at him with such innocence and friendship in her eyes.

                  “You really don’t know what dragons are?”

                  He drew closer and his gaze changed. And he looked surprised as if he was eventually noticing something important.

                  “Oh hoho! I understand now why you seem such an unafraid little girl…”

                  “I’m not little, I’m five.” she said grumpily. But she laughed as readily after that :))

                  “It appears I’m in the middle of one of your dreams. What’s your name?”

                  “I’m Chiara.”

                  #230

                  Illi had not known as powerful an opponent as this other Illi.

                  At first, she had been remembered of stories of possession by evil sprites (or djinns) that she had heard in her youth, when Ibn al’ Gruk, the old angora storyteller was entertaining the desert settlement beating the rhythm with sonorous drums.

                  So, she had pushed, and rebelled, and fought, as fiercely as any other gripshawk skilled and trained in the hand-to-hand martial arts would have done.

                  But the other Illi wasn’t so easily vanquished.

                  Then Illi had collapsed. She had sorrowfully abandoned the fight to the dreaded adversary.

                  All of this had been occurring in a twinkle of an eye, but for Illi, the fight had been during ages and ages, while she was trying to focus on what BelleDora was explaining to her about the land where she was now.

                  And when she had abandoned the fight, everything was again so easy. She did not care any longer, she was free again. Her evil twin could do anything, it could not matter less.

                  But the evil twin had been in fact doing the same, and she had struggled to keep the focus coherent to her. Didn’t want stupid moth-looking people in her reality, or even spare hair on her face! But that other one was strong, and fierce. And stubborned too!

                  — Who are you? she finally had asked
                  — I’m Illi, had the other answered
                  — I am Illi.
                  — So we are both Illi
                  — Yeah, that may be it, but we are quite different.
                  — Are we? You feel quite like me, despite your stupid affection for smooth baby face.
                  — Well, wouldn’t it be for that, I can see some resemblance…
                  — Will you let me continue my trip?
                  — Oh, I would have, but you’ve hijacked mine, said Illi Fergusson.
                  — So you think.
                  — And where does your trip leads to? asked Illi F. who wasn’t too sure of her trip either
                  — From traveling portals to traveling portals, to discover all that can be discovered on this world. Magical creatures, I distrust them, but the lands and people are fascinating… And what about yours?
                  — Hmm, hmm, pondered Illi F. for a moment… Well, I’m dead actually, but I didn’t expect being dead to be so busy. There are so many things to discover, and I like that. I see funny looking people, and this looks like fun. Like a minute ago, I was in some kind of funny cave, with a parrot…
                  — A what?
                  — A parrot, you know, a kind of talking bird full of colours…
                  — Mmm, some kind of demonic creature for sure. Would have slain it without an hesitation!
                  — Hey! You see, that’s why I didn’t want you to come with me.
                  — Well, seems like for a moment, we don’t have much more choice…
                  — At least, look at the bright side, with us merged like that, each of us can provide the other one with some sound experience on each other’s worlds.
                  — Well, that’s not as airy-fairy as it seems…
                  — Well, thank you for that, I’ll take that as a compliment.
                  — You really are dreadfully serious at times!
                  — Hey, I’m not anybody you see. My parents were aristocrats, I’m not the common hairy lot.
                  — Ahahah, you’re funny.
                  — So are you!

                  And they ended laughing blissfully together.

                  After a moment, Illi asked again:

                  — Huh, a funny cave you said?
                  — Well, yes. With lots of people…
                  — Interesting… I was near some sort of strange cave too a while ago, that is, before I was found by this nice man and his dogs. Perhaps there is some connection here.
                  — And could you go there again?
                  — Not sure if I want to; there were some smelly fumes, smelt like demonic magic in there.
                  — Oh you see, for as long as I’ve been dead, well even if that’s not so long ago, anyway, the point is I’ve not seen any demon so far… blustered Illi F.
                  — Oh, and I have to take your word like that then?
                  — Well, do as you please, but I’m going there again…
                  — Just wait for me now, will you; let’s try to do things hand in hand, because you’re driving me mad!

                  And the deal was made.

                  BelleDora had continued to explain lots of things about her ancestors, but had not really noticed Illi’s attention had been so far away. She was a bit surprised when she found herself interrupted in a middle of a poetic depiction of the coastal plains of the Peninsula of the Dragon Head, where some glistening Capricorns were sometimes seen swimming in the creeks.

                  — And how do I get back safely to this hole where I was found? asked Illi abruptly.

                  #225

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                  #208

                  When Bernhard, making his black panther puppet Archie speak, had answered the tongue-in-cheek burning question that was on everyone’s lips:

                  Does Dory’s part of the story seem logical to you?

                  the answer had come as a surprise to many…

                  Yes he had answered… adding a few moments afterwards, though that there is some mistranslation within the interpretation. [¹]

                  Archie also said that we were moving to a center of a seesaw which represents within your understanding an awareness of “it matters not”.

                  Ahahah, how greatly befuddling a new riddle would that be? Perhaps the answer was very simple too. Something like “egg”…

                  All that Quintin was sure, was that Dory surely enjoyed bouncing on seesaws juggling with a basketful of eggs!

                  Perhaps, it mattered not after all… Perhaps, perhaps not… or not yet…

                  Well, Archie had also admitted during the night he didn’t really care being a parrot in that story… Perhaps he had finally lost it too, as would certainly say Fiona, who was their last beacon of sanity in that insane adventure.

                  [¹] Note from your impartially unbiased reporter: :yahoo_whew: (phew)

                  #206

                  India Louise had been switching her own book with Cuthbert’s that night. And as she was exploring some of the stories told in his, he was having a peek into hers.

                  Very quickly, he became aware of a whole new continent, in that World, across the Middle Seas. In that continent far North of the one where Malvina’s was living, lived some intrepid people. They were strong with big voices, and a bit quarrelsome too. Their ways had forgotten lots about Magix and they placed most of the value into tangible items.

                  The next page, a man was sailing across the Middle Seas with a handful of trusted men. He was a captain pirate, named Båd Al’Guz, which meant, Båd son of Guz. His crew referred to him as Bådul.

                  Cuthbert was intrigued by this man, and had begun to discuss with him mentally, asking who he was, who were his people. The same as Cuthbert had been very innocently doing with gentle Malvina.

                  But Bådul was tricky, and after a bit of a surprise, very soon discovered that the little boy could be a very interesting informant, though an unusual one.

                  And in fact, his information was much more interesting than that which the shamans of King Wulfrick babbled in the most inspired manner.

                  Till now, from the mouths of the buck-pelts clothed shamans had only came stupid gibberish that the King and his court gobbled endlessly. Something about “YaWn”, as they said: You animate Worlds neatly .

                  How stupid was that? Their only answers were useless to him, they were only telling him that he activated and animated the Worlds neatly, and that, in short, nothing was fixed and he could do anything.

                  Well, with that boy, that was different. He was talking about a cave with gilded dragon eggs, and THAT was of a great value to Bådul.

                  But of course, he would not frighten the young boy and pretended that his intentions were that of an explorer, trying to discover new shores and new continents, so as to become closer to understand from where he came, and hopefully make people aware of their closeness to each others.

                  He was such an eloquent actor that he almost shed a tear saying that sentence.

                  As a matter of fact, for as long as he remembered, he had been wandering in many situations, and lots of them had not been very pleasant. Born from uncaring parents, as lots, if not all, of his people were, working as a janitor in a sordid tavern, then as a warden (if not executioner when requested) in an even more sordid jail… Were the Gods to be blamed for that? Well, according to the shamans, he was the only one to be blamed, because he did not accept his responsibility as a weaver of Worlds.

                  Idiots.

                  At least, he had found his passion. He love sailing, and taking riches for his pleasure. Whatever then, he would take his share, and not care about what was next.

                  At least, if he could coax the boy into revealing more about that cave.

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