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  • #729
    AvatarJib
    Participant

    They were having some rest after a few days walking toward South.
    Zhana was sitted on a big grey rock, and she was looking at a big toadie.

    That’s for sure the King of the Frogs. She thought.
    I’ll call you Gamabunta. Are you pleased with your Name, Majesty?

    To her surprise, the big Toady croaked and looked at her… or was it just her impression.

    Sanso, can we go now, this big frog makes me feel uncomfortable…
    Oh crap, she thought, where did he go again…

    #724
    TracyTracy
    Participant

    Becky felt revitalized somewhat after breakfast, and decided to go for a walk. Sean was still snoring and mumbling in bed, so she pulled some clothes out of the closet quickly and climbed into them quietly, unable to see clearly in the dark.

    If the pile of wedding gifts on the dining room table hadn’t attracted her attention, she might have looked in the hall mirror, but as it was, she didn’t. It wasn’t until much later, a long way from home, that she realized what she had donned that morning.

    Becky picked up the doll that Patel had given her and grinned. She couldn’t have chosen a more entertaining husband for her mother if she’d chosen him herself. He was such a delightful practical joker, a real hoot, and Becky was very fond of him. She frowned as she turned the strange doll round in her hand, not quite sure what the joke was yet. She was quite sure there would be a laugh in it somewhere though.

    Well, time will tell, she murmured, and headed out of the front door to hail a gondola cab. Shivering as she waited, she thought happily of the honeymoon in Sri Lanka the following week. Becky wondered if they might extend the trip, and visit Sam in Australia.

    #703
    EricEric
    Keymaster

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    :fleuron:

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

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

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

    Continue…

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

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

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

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

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

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

    #681
    EricEric
    Keymaster

    New Venice, February 2034

    Al had finally completed his body experiments. The results were encouraging, and would probably help understand more of some bodily processes.
    Obviously he’d had some fun with them, these past few years —it was a nice way to learn more about himself, and to bring some of that knowledge to other people. Essentially, it was mostly to show them that what centuries of so-called “modern medicine” had done was to make them defiant of their own bodies. The mass creations of all these diseases not so long ago was still very much embedded into people’s imaginations. How ironic was that most of these diseases were coming from the body itself.
    So, what Albert was doing in his experiments was to push the limits to show how greatly adaptive the body structure was. It was nothing different than what scientists of the last decennia were doing on laboratory rats with many uncouth cocktails of injections —except that the trigger was for the most part an internal projection, no needing great amounts of artificial adjuncts.
    Becky’s sudden and impressive illnesses, shortly before her wedding had not worried him too much, because he knew that at times the body needed to adapt to new settings and environments, albeit not always physical ones.
    Another thing he knew well enough for having experienced it was that distrust was the most difficult part during this adjustment process. Distrust of the body, of self and of course of others. It was a delicate subject and most of their ancestors way of tackling the subject had been to reinforce the distrust in one’s own body. Pills and antibiotics could do wonders, but they were not that innocuous when they were used as ways to tell one’s own body it was not behaving the way it was supposed to be. As far as the symptoms were sometimes elusive, their physical effects could be quite unpredictable, depending on the patient’s state of mind.

    That reality play they were all writing to record their various connections has always been great fun. They had been toying with the idea of great changes, new frontiers of the mind and spirit and expansion of their consciousnesses.
    It had started during Becky’s infancy, were she was inspired by her step-mother and a bunch of her friends who were doing all kind of meditations and strange “imaginary” stuff. And two years ago, she had found old digital archives and had been amazed at some of the changes that had occurred during so few of the past years of her own existence, much of them mirroring these “imagined” changes.
    So, she had enlisted Sam, and Al and Tina to join in that reality play, to continue the projection into that “Shift” of the mind and see how farther it would take them.

    But there was something that Albert had always found a bit far-fetched was Becky’s confidence in such strides in their expansion of the mind. Doubtlessly he was acknowledging that things were changing —the last discoveries in how magnetic fields affected DNA and thus the bodies had been even compelling enough to have scientists reassess their stance on how DNA and evolution of species worked. But he doubted that everything would be a perfect utopia. And pain was such an inherent and useful part of their human experience that he was not conceiving how any consciousness expansion would get rid of it.

    So, back to Becky’s illnesses which were mirroring his owns, a great deal of them was also about accepting that pain not as a flaw in the way they were creating their reality, but as something real, useful as a mechanism of feed-back. Accepting it didn’t meant cherishing it and holding dearly to it, it merely meant they had to recognize it as a way of the body to bring back the diverted awareness into the body. Well, Al wasn’t sure it would always be necessary to have it, but for the moment, the species was not entirely accustomed to being present into the body. Perhaps when it learns that, pain wouldn’t be necessary…
    To reassure Becky, he had reminded her of how as a child she had grown teeth, and that had been perhaps one of the weirdest most disturbing and painful experience children experience in relation to their bodies, but her parents had been telling her all along it was just growing. She just had to trust her body knew better. Or like Krustis the clown was saying, it sure won’t help a man if he notices a thumping sound in his chest to have it stop…

    Well, in a few days time, it would be Chinese New Year. The large Chinese population of New Venice made it a very loved holiday, and Becky and Sean had decided to wed on that day, February 19 th where they would all step into the year of the Tiger.

    How funny, Al was thinking, leaning over the railing of the balcony, looking at the sunset reflecting over the waters… These funny people that Becky had known in her infancy, the original FGF, they had seen New York under waters in their meditations… And that yellow car…
    They had discussed a lot about this event, and some had been disquieted by that fact, fearing some impeding catastrophe. But all in all it had been a smooth occurrence. Authorities had been aware of the issue, and though they did not yet know all the mechanisms at play, they had been preparing some measures to avoid the city being flooded.
    There had been lots of debates, as most politicians were advocating of building of dams to prevent the rising sea levels to enter the city.
    But the studies of Dutch experts had been the most convincing, and New York City official soon decided to follow the example of the implementation in Netherlands of moving and adapting structures, constructions of buildings and plains liable to be flooded, and even buildings and roads construction on stilts structures, which Dutch had come over time to prefer to the dams, no matter how technically efficient…
    Another imagery of adapting structures with the flow…

    #669
    EricEric
    Keymaster

    So why are you here? Malvina was asking to the man with amber eyes and the black-haired woman with streaks of teal.
    Tired of having danced, Leo, the marmoset was nestled on her lap, and she was lovingly stroking his little white mane. Comfortably put on langoat wool cushions, she was sipping yrok-butter tea, around a low round table with her alien guests.

    Well, that is a long story, said Georges
    And you probably are aware of a part of it, said Salome
    Yes, I am, answered Malvina, as far as dragons’ memory goes…
    Indeed, and there was a time before the dragons…

    #668
    EricEric
    Keymaster

    There is a time where reality and fiction bleed into each other so much exquisitely that they soon become indiscernible one from another. Such a time is not in a distant future. The time is now.

    Elizabeth started to munch on her black and white quillipooh. Her yawning had made one of the mini-goats faint and drop on the floor stiff as a board… Light as a feather, looking at the quillipooh, stiff as a board looking at the goat. Light as a feather, another look at the quillipooh, stiff as a board, look at the goat…

    She wasn’t sure waking up in the middle of the night to write the tiny bits of sentences she’d heard were very useful.

    Light as a father, staffed as a motherboard…, Late as a feature… stuffed as a bugger
    Eyelids becoming heavy and slowly dropping over her eyes, she was also feeling her body starting to vibrate violently… Her nerves, probably dying for a nicobeck fix.

    She reached out for her bedecked beckelite cigarette holder, her eyes still half-closed, but it wasn’t here… For all matter and purposes, the table wasn’t here either…
    She opened her eyes fully and almost got a shock. She was floating a feet above the floor, like cushioned in layers of air. Was she dreaming already? Wow, in any case, this… experimentation was hunky-dory!

    #1875
    TracyTracy
    Participant

    I had a whole scenario in my head last night and just couldn’t put a sentence together, I tried and tried, and deleted the whole thing. Mars, or Constable Marhsall, was surreptitiously meeting the robber lad in a brothel, waiting to meet the madame, the leader of the robber gang. darnit, I just couldn’t articulate it at all. Just thought I’d mention it ;):yahoo_rolling_eyes:

    #647
    EricEric
    Keymaster

    When Felicity had taken the job, she had thought at first that it was all a big interstellar joke…
    Come on… Dead people speaking though living?
    But a few recent experiences made her feel there was kind of warmth surrounding her when she started the radiophonic sessions, and that she was feeling… inspired, for lack of a better word.
    Words indeed were coming and flowing, and even though she was rarely speechless, the words did have some different quality.
    And people enjoyed the show greatly, and mails kept coming to the radio thanking DDT for all of the marvelous advices…

    Till then, as she was conscious of the process, she had refrained issuing some definite statements on future events, as the inspiration was pressing her to do at times. As subtle as all of this was, she was feeling it was not really the same energy as the warm one; it was like incursions of a quicker and less stable bouncy energy.
    It was pushing her to make cocky statements, on mass events about to come… Oh, not again self-fulfilling prophecies, please! she couldn’t help but think…

    At times, Felicity was even wondering whether she was really going completely crazy.
    Oh, it was so much simpler to be a genuine fraud…

    :fleuron:

    — Arky, come here at once!
    — But, I’ve done nothing…
    — Stop being such a jackanapes, will you… You know very well there is no secret…
    — Yes…

    Despite his being immaterial, it was obvious that the One referred to as Arky was being scolded.

    — And you know perfectly well there is nothing to gain in pushing things…
    — But I intended well…
    — I know that. As generations of focuses of leaders and presidents have been doing. One would have assumed you’d knew better by now… I can see you’re enjoying being with me on the soapbox, but either you find your own, or you better stay clear next time we get a communication.
    — Understood.
    — Fine, class dismissed.

    #643
    FloveFlove
    Participant

    A DARK ALEHOUSE ONE NIGHT SOMEWHERE IN LONDON DURING THE REIGN OF QUEEN V

    Blimey O’Riley, you drive a hard bargain. But it looks like you and me got ourselves an arrangement.

    We split it eight ways even as agreed.

    Eight ways. They shook hands. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you Constable Marshall O’Riley.

    #641
    FloveFlove
    Participant

    AN EXCHANGE WHICH TAKES PLACE ON THE STREETS OF LONDON DURING THE REIGN OF QUEEN VICTORIA:

    ‘Ere!, I saw you take that.

    Let go of me, I didn’t do nothing.

    I aint blind and I aint stupid, lad. I saw you put your thieving hand in this ladies handbag. Now what you got?

    Nothing. Just this coin. It’s for me mam, she’s at home poorly, dying, and we aint got no food. ‘Ere, take it. it won’t happen again.

    You’re right it won’t happen again because you’ll be going to the gallows I’ll be bound. I know your face. You’re one of them Magpies. I’ve ‘ad my eye on you for some time. You’re clever at covering tracks I’ll grant you that, but not clever enough it seems.

    Look Mr Constable, I don’t know nothing about no magpies, they thieving birds aint they? It was for me poor old mam, I swear to God, if I be lying may ‘e strike me down dead.

    No more blasphemy from you. I expect the good Lord’s got better things to do than spend his time striking down lying thieves. Thing is you’ve been been caught thieving from this lady and it’s not looking too good for you right now.

    And I will thank you Ma’am for your courageous co-operation. said Constable Marshall O’Riley, turning galantly to the finely dressed woman, clutching her handbag tightly to her person. You have been victim of a heinous crime, and I would wish to trouble your gentle self no more with this matter. But I will thank you for your details and be assured I shall call upon you should we need you to give further evidence.

    No sooner had the lady gone than Constable O’Riley turned to the young thief.

    Now you listen to me carefully, young lad. I have an idea that, if you play your hand right, might save you from hanging.

    I’m listening.

    You and me is not two figures to be seen together, except for somewhere private. I want you to talk to the one what leads your little gang. I have an idea that could be of mutual benefit. I will let you go now, and you be here tomorrow same time, and I will tell you where the meeting will be held. I’ve ‘ad my eyes on your gang for quite some time, all I needed to convict you was to catch you red ‘anded, and I got that now. So If you ain’t here, I know where to find you lot, and I swear I’ll drag you in front of the magistrate. Do as I say though and we could all be laughing.

    #1612

    In reply to: Synchronicity

    TracyTracy
    Participant

    She made her way downstairs to the kitchen, and the headlines in the Reality Times newspaper on the table caught her eye:

    ‘Mysterious Carved Rock Faces Appear in Yorkshire Villages.’

    SYNC! Todays random quote, and I just this minute mentioned to Jan how things keep appearing IN the book before we hear about them OUTSIDE of the book, and I mentioned the Yorkshire stonecarver. We had been discussing previously the ELIZABETH sync. Some of Franci’s descriptions of Elizabeth fit exactly Jan’s impressions of Elizabeth in the movie she just watched.

    The botanist, the woman in mans clothes, and the island all cropped up OUTSIDE the book yesterday……

    #1609

    In reply to: Synchronicity

    FloveFlove
    Participant

    funny synch today at lunch, i was out with a friend. We got table number :calendar: so I thought of Jib, and then the people at the next table got 23 .. (I guess Tracy you were too busy conferencing to attend lunch :yahoo_phbbt:). Then someone sneezed really loudly so I thought of my conversation about sneezing with Jib and the Holy Water, then Love Potion Number 9 started playing. :yahoo_oh_go_on:

    Eric Lemoine: we can make some commerce of pure distilled Ephy bottled love, we could call that … mmm Love n° 5

    #627
    FloveFlove
    Participant

    Franiel offered his congratulations to Aum Geog along with the others. He did not mind that he was not himself chosen to succeed Hrih Chokyam, and neither would he have expected it, however he felt the physical absence of the Old One keenly. His powerful presence had cloaked the whole monastery in a sweet warmth, and even though Franiel had only been there a short while, he had felt close to the Old One. Of course his spirit will always be here, but the same time Franiel knew change was inevitable, and he was unsure of his own place within the boundaries of the monastery. Happiness and fun were valued highly by Franiel, they were more important to him than all the spiritual ideals others would speak of, and he had felt a slight greyness of late. He found humility difficult and did not enjoy following rules, neither did he enjoy listening to the wisdom of the other brothers. At times his sense of humor would cause them to frown upon him. He knew the Old One had understood this, but now he was gone he wondered how he would fit. He pulled out the note Jog Lam had given him from Hrih Chokyam, Listen to your heart…. it began. What was his heart telling him?

    Brother Franiel!. He heard the voice of Aba Tane calling him. The Brothers were shortly meeting to hear Aum Geog speak, presumably to announce the new direction for the monastery.

    Brother Franiel, Aum Geog has requested you take this chalice to the Village, so the silversmith may engrave it with these words. Aba Tane handed Franiel a cup, and a piece of paper with a seal. He requested you should go right away and that you should remember that the cup is precious. He requested also that I sprinkle you with some Holy Water to safeguard you on your way. In customary manner, Franiel knelt and Aba Tane sprinkled the precious bottled water on his forehead. Love and Light, Brother Franiel. Blessings for your journey.

    It was several days walking down the mountain to the Village. To be honest though, it was a task Franiel welcomed, perhaps to be away from the monastery at this time would give him a chance to better hear what was in his heart, and to miss the meeting was no loss for him.

    He wondered at the haste, and at what the words might be, however it was not his business to question the directives of Aum Geog. He remembered also his dream of the silver goblet. Many things to ponder, he mused, a feeling of excitement growing within him.

    #1316

    In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

    EricEric
    Keymaster

    January 4 th, 2008

    A communication about legends, to complement what Yurick had connected to during his sleep, with ties with the dimension of Alienor, and possibly counterparts within his dimension

    Starry sky, eternal and boundless waft of dreams and legends…

    Many if not all of the physical dimensions possess legends. Legends of their beginnings, and legends of their ends.
    The language which legends speak is a language of symbols, and though many of the receivers of legends are prone to erect them as absolute and faithful accounts of historical soundness, they are much more mutable and protean than what may be commonly thought of them.
    They are connections, bridges from a locus (point in time/space) drawn as a frontier between what is known of the now, in which civilizations of these worlds are thriving, and a locus which is forgotten, or beyond the commonly perceived world.
    As such, they essentially represent boundaries.

    And of course, boundaries are only boundaries because they serve a purpose. Much like boundaries drawn on maps are not necessarily representing actual obstacles which cannot be physically crossed. These are mere perceptive frontiers, which tie in the various developments of history and societal relationships.
    When the civilizations, or species, as you understand them, come close to one of these perceptive boundaries, there is an interaction with the very nature of the boundary, which is receptive to the inception of volition to cross the perceptive limitation.
    And a process of reshaping and expending the borders takes place, by means of insertion of new legends.

    Legends, in that way of seeing things, are not necessarily old dusty accounts sung by blind bards with jovian white beards. Not quite. They are much alive. They are created and recreated in the instant where boundaries of perceptions are being tempered with. Which makes it important to notice that they are translations of much wider movements in consciousness, spanning more than the physical dimension in which they manifest.
    Many of the legends that humanity is aware of are very similar accounts, throughout your globe. And they are also projected in other dimensional areas vibrationally close to your manifestations.

    You are currently fiddling with the legends of your ends of times, and that is the reason why at the same time, you are starting to create new legends. Legends of new beginnings.
    In actuality, this is done oftentimes; each time a perceptual limit is crossed and seen beyond. The only difference here would be the unprecedented span of the process which is occurring now. The point where you are standing, prodding into the interactive frontier you have come across is not a single mere frontier, but a converging point of many of tinier, shorter ones. This also creates a singularity which makes the frontier respond with a sort of inertia. In fact, it is like a wide net of fine threads, which possess altogether a high absorbing potential for small energy bumps. Nonetheless, it will give way to a vastly expanded perception, as soon as the collective energy is focused upon, and steadily moving into the direction of pushing that protective envelop.

    That process never ends, and during that process, new legends are being remembered. For the lands beyond the frontiers exists when you are aware of it, which in retrospect also means, it is created, or inserted as you are prodding the frontier.
    In fact, you are, as you stand before that specific nexus point, being creating new legends, in that you are evaluating the potentials that you see fluctuating as a shadow world through the layer of a soap bubble, and have them blend with legends that you know of.
    Your very lives become the legends of these potential worlds, and thus is the importance of your being at that locus of transition. You indeed come at that point, as much for making it possible but more so, to experience the transition and alteration of the legendary landscape. You are the bridges between a future which you are creating as you remember it, and a past which contains the clues that will be seeds for your new discoveries.
    And that is a most rewarding travel, as you will come to see…

    #622
    EricEric
    Keymaster

    Somewhere during the 23 rd century

    “aaa AAAA AAAAA Tcheeeew !”

    “Hiiiiii?! Oh Fracking NOOOoooo!”

    The shriek had been heard in the whole facility.

    Phefia Beryl was the first on the spot where Vinya Grey had been playing so exuberantly with her vocal chords.

    — Vinnie? Are you alright?… What just happened?
    — Oh, Pheffy… I think I made an awful blunder…
    — What do you mean?
    — You know, my last experiment?
    — The g…
    — Yes!
    — What?!
    — They poofed away…
    — Away?… You mean, all of them? Oh bugger…

    :fleuron:

    A few minutes later, Vinya and Phefia were around a white table sucking on straws picked into white and red polystyrenoid balls.

    — Vinnie, you look terrible… That last geomagnetic storm had not done very good on your DNA I’m afraid.
    — And the worse is that each time I sneeze, I blow up wormholes… I thought it would go better very quickly, but last one was big and lasted long enough to let the whole experimental herd wander off in another time/space and/or dimension…
    — Yeah, that’s pretty bad… But wherever they went, they probably will die very soon… Imagine… With their stiff legs anytime they see something frightening, I guess a mere mapgie could easily have them for dinner…
    — Such a pity… I was close to doing something great with them… When we discovered these fossilized blue spiders, I knew it was the first step.
    — Bwah, this rehydrated frogrog is the grossest thing I’ve ever drunk… But yeah you’re right, the first results were very promising. The spiders venom could provoke very random and deep mutations.
    — And all we needed was a little more control on the direction of the mutations.
    — Anyway they’re just goats… You possibly can’t have breached a cosmic law with a handful of GOATS
    — Hope so Pheffy, hope so…

    :fleuron2:

    San Demangelo, 1848

    Elroy was laughing… Hey Joe, Twi! he shouted A letter from Uncle Ernie!

    — Uncle Ernie? How’s the old bat doin’? asked Twilight
    — He’s sending his greetings for the new year, and babbling about last dead people in the neighborhood. But there’s something funny. He’s saying that he’d just acquired some funny goats. Like popped in, out of nowhere. At first he’d thought of a joke, but apparently no one’s been claiming them. He’d thought them dead, they were a dozen laying stiff on the ground, but when they started to wake up, they went down again like broken dolls. Apparently the magpies on top of the tree had been scaring them. Ahaha… Where does he get such strange stories…
    — Well, magpies are scarey, Twilight said meaningfully, with a side glance at Joe
    — Whatever… At least he’d been giving us a good laugh. He’s saying he’s gonna breed the horny beasts, and start a Fainting Goat Fair (or FGF) in Marshall County. Perhaps we could get there next Thanksgiving…
    — Depends when the Freak Show’s coming to town, mused Twilight, I hope to see them soon…

    #619
    EricEric
    Keymaster

    Home, at last… Bernie Eleonara Mynd, Viscountess of Shropshire sighed, dropping her hairy salmon coloured hermine fur coat to the butler.
    Now, leave me alone Vigor, I don’t want to be disturbed.
    Madam, Vigor bowed deferentially

    A smoking teapot of fine herb tea was prepared on the glass coffee table just near a black silk pouch. With a greedy look on her face, she untied voraciously the pouch to reveal the crystal skull she had just acquired.
    After a few seconds of beholding the priceless possession, she lifted the teapot lid with a stiff face which eventually smiled blissfully at the smell of the fine Earl Fuchsia crop which was infusing.

    Good Lord, that trip was exhausting!… she growled in a very deep voiced that suddenly sounded more male than before.
    Didn’t know I had to go as far as Spain to get that darn skull!

    Bernie suddenly ripped her fine chignon from her head, revealing a bald head with a few short black hair on the top. She spitted her false teeth, peeled off some wrinkled patches of latex skin, smeared the mascara around her globular eyes and scratched her crotch…

    A ruffled sound and a “mmm mmm” suddenly caught her attention off the itchy body parts.

    She went to the cupboard, drew a key dangling from a necklace deeply buried inside her ample bosom, then stopped for a moment, and muttered a “bugger” before unbuttoning her tight blouse and removing the corset that was constraining her breath.
    Smiling wickedly, she proceeded to open the cupboard, but recoiled at a pale tied and muzzled figure who looked much similar to whoever she was impersonating.

    Oh, Lordy, what a stench! There’s no point in making such a fuss Viscountess, this will soon be over… I just needed a few things, and will soon be off, tonight to be precise…

    The pale figure whined with pleading eyes.

    Oh, just don’t make these eyes at me…

    Bugger! I can’t bother with her now, she said to herself, closing the cupboard’s door oblivious to the plaintiff whines. Now, got to move on real quick, before they realize something was wrong with the transaction.

    :fleuron:

    Juan had insisted that they all spent Christmas together before Paqui and Joselito went for their trip. He felt that there was more to this trip that he could grasp, and wanted to share these precious moments now, not wanting to live on regrets.
    Now, the new year was here, and he was alone. At least, he’d been more than glad to see Claudio move out. It had all been a lot easier than he’d thought at first. Obviously, when Paquita had said to that maggot that she was going to accompany Joselito to his trip on the whachaname-Kikkoo Island, Claudio had been outraged, probably thinking a good playing victim act would soon make things right for him.
    But he’d been wrong altogether. It was not about love for him or the other. It was all about freedom and being what she wanted. And emotional blackmail very quickly proved besides the point.
    His father had been proud at Paquita. Her decision obviously was made, and it had been the first time he had seen the frail girl unwavering at the arguments.

    The situation had soon proved unbearable for Claudio, who had no longer any reason for hanging around Juan and Paqui’s house, and one day he’d moved out, rather discreetly, not to be heard again. Somehow, Juan was aware of the town’s gossips, that he had acquired some unexpected sum of money, not sure if all very legally, but the thing was that he had decided to take his chances by going some said to Nicaragua, others to Brazil or even to the US…
    But who really cared?

    :fleuron:

    On his plane for Valparaiso, Claudio was looking at the letter he’d found in the family trunk. It was a brief correspondence between his grand-father and a certain Cillian Mc Gaughran, and it was linked to the skull he had sold such a handsome price. Perhaps he could get more information about them, if the recluse old man was still alive, that is…

    #604
    AvatarJib
    Participant

    Yann stroke Arona, lost in his thoughts. He’d spent the last few days with Yurick at Gustav’s place. He’d met Gustav a few days ago, when Yurick came to Paris with him. Gustav was a very sympathetic and fun fellow, his energy felt very soft to Yann and quite sensitive though he could appear a bit rough to others. Gustav was kind enough to let Yann sleep one night at his house when he was still there, before his holidays with his parents before Christmas and friends after Christmas. It was the occasion to eventually be with Yurick.

    The life together was a bit different from what he would have normally expected… before. Now it was just a new experience, the interaction was different, and the configuration of energy could be a bit tricky.

    Yann had noticed that in his perception even if an aspect of his attention was focused on the physical place and that he was physically seeing other individuals and objects in the official room, his main attention was elsewhere… he was beginning to be able to let more of this periphery to bleedthrough in his official reality, and he was well aware that the interactions weren’t always what they appeared to be. He first had the reflex to filter it through his usual associations and what he knew of this reality… but often enough he had that twinge about it like it wasn’t really fitting… it wasn’t fitting at all, he was trying to mold it into another shape, a familiar and distorted shape, so to speak. Ok, that was acceptable, and most of the time his attention and his movement was toward Yurick’s energy.

    Yurick was creating some weird stuffs in with his mouth… some itching and uncomfortable pain… it was a bit weird because of the familiar associations with it… associations with pain, illness, preoccupations, caring, even self worth… but most of all it was showing Yann about the automatic movement “outside” of self, and not being present in what himself was doing.

    Yann had noticed that most of the time when he was in what he was doing there was that warm expansion feeling in his belly… but still there was that location association with it… and the association that Yurick was outside and the room was outside and then at times it was fading and there was not much separation within energy.

    And he just noticed that no separation didn’t necessarily mean continuity :-?

    Ok, again this Owl music of the Harry Potter series… the “scum of the universe” connection was a bit hidden by this music now, but it was still in his periphery. And something he wanted to explore. A feeling of space travel and of mercenaries… that reminded him of the video games he was playing when he was a kid. There was always a time when he was fascinated by the “bad guys”, the pirates. Haha, maybe a pie rat would do as a dessert.

    He would soon come back “home”. He had that DVD of the pilots of a series about space travels that he liked a lot… Yurick had told him about it 2 days ago, he had never seen it.

    #599
    FloveFlove
    Participant

    I wonder how delightful it may feel to become one with that butterfly, mused Franiel, his attention diverted from the job at hand as he followed the dance of a delicate white butterfly. He closed his eyes for a moment and merged with the creature, how free ! He sighed, trying somewhat reluctantly to pull himself back. Franiel had been sat there for quite some time now, supposedly engaged in the task of writing a short poem of 3 stanzas for Hrih, the Old One.

    Of course there was no pressure. Yet in his desire to please, Franiel felt it as such. In his dreams of the previous night Hrih had visited him. He had offered Franiel a golden crown, a silver goblet filled with sweet nectar, and a jewelled sword. Choose! commanded Hrih. Franiel had chosen the goblet and drank thirstily from it, and yet he had felt that Hrih was not pleased with his choice, and upon wakening Franiel had felt a strange uneasiness.

    Franiel had not been trained in the way of the pen, and he knew his words would be clumsy. He had been raised in a poor home, where words were not considered to be of much value other than to instruct him in his tasks, or berate him when those tasks were not completed. Being a dreamy child, this had often been the case.

    He wished he could harness the power of words and use them to soothe and caress, to create beauty even, he thought, gently running his finger over the plain wooden table where he was seated.

    Well for now he would not worry what form his words should take, for it was enough of a task even to know what his highest truth might be!

    My highest truth .. my highest truth, … how many times now had he said these words, hoping perhaps if he repeated them enough the gods might take pity on his for his ignorance and provide an answer. How could he possibly know his highest truth? The very concept of such a thing perplexed him.

    Day was turning into night before Franiel finally laid down his pen. In the end his words were simple. He sighed, saddened by the thought that they would surely be a disappointment. The best I can hope for is that the Old One will see these words as nothing more than a doorway to my soul. Hrih was wise, Franiel knew this, and trusted the decision of the Old One.

    It was in the hands of the gods, for surely if I can’t trust this at least, all my fine talk and learning is for nothing.

    I am the driftwood
    the wave carried me
    I was buried in sand

    I am the flower
    the butterfly touched me
    I fell in love

    I am the raindrop
    the cloud released me
    I became the ocean

    #596
    TracyTracy
    Participant

    Poêléed foie gras, goat tagine, roquette fig salad, sherry trifle, serrano ham, lobster in ginger…..

    Manon was going over her holiday menu and lists, wondering how on earth she would manage to cater for all tastes. What a houseful it was going to be.

    …..scallion soy sauce, steak and kidney pie, wild mushroom soup, ostrich fillets with dauphine potatoes, rhubarb crumble….

    …..Cuthbert! OY! Manon grabbed the boy as he rushed past grabbing a hot mince pie on his way to the stables.

    Here, take this with you, she said, thrusting a basket towards him, crushing the pastry he was clutching, and spilling hot mince all over his hand.

    AAArrgghh! MaNON! Cuthbert licked his burnt palm and glared at the cook.

    Manon gave him a swift slap round the back of the head and said, That’s your own bloody fault for nicking it in the first place. Go and pick the mushrooms for the soup, and some rhubarb for the crumble, and bring me some greens, too.

    Cuthbert groaned, But MaNON……..

    Bugger off and do it! Ask that Bill to help you, he just went outside, hurry and you’ll catch him.

    #584
    EricEric
    Keymaster

    Malika jotted down some notes on the chat window, depicting the images as they whizzed into her mind like the pages of a multicoloured flip-book

    “As she swam swiftly to regain the spot of her observation, she skimmed almost to the surface, and as she did, she saw lights. She surfaced and heard sounds that resembled the music that she and her sisters played.
    They held in their hands objects that projected sounds…

    :fleuron:

    As she swam swiftly to regain the spot of her observation, she skimmed almost to the surface, and as she did, she saw lights. She surfaced and heard sounds that resembled the music that she and her sisters played.
    They held in their hands objects that projected sounds, and their echoes in the waters were projecting harmonious symphonies that were carried miles across the waters.

    How odd that the sounds where so similar to the ones she had always known. But they were different, rasher, suffused of a violent nature which was so alien to the world she was coming from. It all was perplexing, and almost deafening to her. Her eyes getting slowly accustomed to the light could not yet perceive that there was no longer the life she’d felt on the strange floating body, but she knew it assuredly even without seeing it.

    She plunged back into the waters, to reattain the gliding peace and softness that she had been missing so much already, even though she had been out of it for barely a few moments.

    Where was the life she had felt… Gone in the strange world of the surface? She knew so little of that world, that she imagined that all their creatures could swim as easily in the airs as she could do in the waters. Was there a bottom to their environment?
    All of these questions were erupting and expanding in her mind, when a sudden feeling got her forthwith.

    She could feel him. Sinking slowly… and she could feel his pain inside, something else that was alien to her… He was so fascinating…
    She swam fleetly to where he was.
    She turned in small rounds around him, following closely his descent, not daring to touch him.
    So alien, yet so beautiful.

    She could communicate with him, as he was in something close to a deep slumber, and allowing for that exchange to happen. It was a breach of the rules, she knew.
    She had been told not to interfere with things from the surface, yet she was interfering already, and she’d always been doing it in a sense… At what point did that breach leapt from her imagination to reality? She couldn’t say…

    The light was casting a yellow radiance in the blue waters. A feeling of warmth and comfort surrounding them.
    He was telling her he was dying, yet he was comfortable. Time meant nothing…
    She conveyed to him that she could help him, bring him back to his floating station, where he could spring back into his world… She wanted to share so many things with him…

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