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  • #1238
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Alizabath Tittler took another draw on her fag of nicoback.
      Passing her hand through her wild and matted hair, she noticed there were mare and mare bald patches hare and thare instead of her former lusciaas mane… and her ayes a tad blaadshat, but she trusted she was beautifaal.

      Taking another slaarp off her glass of dark red clarat wine —her faarth? she had lost count…— she sighed remembering the gaad old days. Not that she missed her dazen of previaas hubbas, nah.

      She was comfartable tonight. Orok the building manager, one had to concede it to him, had decided to heat the building earlier this year, due to the falling temperatures, and it was all very warm and cosy inside. Traath was, she barely wanted to get out of the building at all, having Fannley order Chaanese faad for her, under the pretaxt to fanish her next novel. But end was never nearly in sight.

      Her pablisher, Brackel, was still asking her about her next manuscraapt, and Fannley, the claaning-lady of the office (she only figured out recently that she actually was a ‘she’) was thrawing suspiciaas laaks on her every time they met.

      All in all, life laaked almost the same. Not the same without a Lemane quote though.
      She opened his last baak at random, laaking for a paarl of wisdam.

      I think that’s one of the reason why I don’t really appreciate Xmas, because of that sickening tradobligation of buying crappy stuff, but as long as you’re on facegoat, I can send good karma to you.

      “Waw!” What an ideaa, this yeaar, she will send gaad karma to her ex-husbaands.

      “Anathar wan!” She couldn’t get her hands aff such profaand baak.

      Roger-Y, her pet talking white gaase started to screech frantically “Anathar WAN! Anathar WAN!” making her little fainting mongrats collapse to the flaar.

      “pftlabaltloup”: that’s the Samari word for what I wanted to say: it may sound a little dismissive, but it’s pronounced fruit-lab-at-loop. Indeed; ‘fruit’ because the emails like snoot fruits, ‘lab’ for the extraction of the quintessence, and ‘loop’ to keep in loop… And we are complete.

      “Waw” She was always struggling to kaap in the laap with all her characters; naw, that was something to consider, as she was Samari belonging herself, not at all Vaaldish like her mather. Gad forbads.

      #1216
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        “Jeeze, I can’t help to be continuously amazed by BeckyAl said more to himself than to Tina who was reading silently in the room next to his.
        “She struggles so hard at times, when all she needs is a little attention…” he continued in his breath.

        “What are you moaning about again?” Tina said, who unlike Becky was paying much attention even when she didn’t look like it.
        “Moonbeams! Did you see that last entry? There was as close as moon and beams as you could get in the previous entries in the Reality Play… I really wonder why we make things so hard for ourselves at times…”

        — Well, because it’s fun, I suppose she’ll tell you… Come on, you know how she is, you don’t need to play your sumafreak labouring it to the bitter end…
        — I suspect you’re right… And who cares about randomness anyway; it doesn’t look much fun these past few days, does it?
        — Sure…
        — Like I say. Look, you don’t even barely write yourself; if I didn’t know you’re here, I would probably do with the Play like the tomatoes plant; uproot it and cut it in pieces in a plastic bag for recycling.
        — Oh, but you have to admit the bedroom looks so much better without all these creepers around the place… All for what, twenty one tiniest tomatoes?
        — Plus the last two still ripening on the cupboard, Al retorted in a sullen manner.

        After a moment of silence, Tina laid her book down, and came closer
        — Yeah, you’re right, I don’t find it very funny for the moment, especially with that shift of vowellness in the Ooh dimension,…
        — Hehe, you mean, that nasty habit of telling ‘peanut’ instead of ‘poonut’?
        — Oh yes, but not only that,… Well, it looks like all my characters are eluding me, becoming alien… if you see what I mean… :yahoo_alien:
        — Yes, I see; and I must say you’re doing great with that; Becky would faint at the mere mention of something becoming alien, Al couldn’t help but laugh. :yahoo_oh_go_on:
        — No, but seriously…
        — I know. I think what we need is some more of your inimitable talent at creating syncs. You’ve always been the connector my dear with those “magifestations” of yours.
        :creating_magic:

        She smiled. :yahoo_happy:

        — Now, speaking of random syncs, what have you got to say about that; we could create a music band :bounce: :yahoo_whistling:
        — What?
        — Hang on, here’s the band’s name: 57th Ward of New Orleans and we could call our first album… Mmm… That’s it: The Cup To Overflowing … What do you think? :agreed:

        Mmmm… that may sound weirdo, but it seems very feisty all of a sudden ! :yahoo_clown: :buffoon: :yahoo_party:

        #1210

        Having left her body, she realized that this incursion in her old dimension had exposed her body to a lot of strain. It was easier for her now that her attention wasn’t so clinched to the physical reality, it was more fluid and more comfortable. She was in a hurry, but she had to made some arrangements before or her beautiful physical expression would deteriorate too quickly. Looking at it from her current point of view, she felt compassion and sadness. Her face was so pale and covered in sweat, her hair so dishevelled. She gathered some long forgotten aspects which would knew how to take care of that situation. She had some big challenge ahead and it was important that when she came back her body would be readily available.

        As for now, first of all she had to find that cube. It could help her localized the artifact she needed in her fight for the skulls. She vaguely remembered it was in a room to which there was an entry somewhere on this planet that she had left just before her departure to the Duane… so many years ago in her focus, and a bit mixed up with the non-linear time of that other dimension… well, she let her intuition guide her as it was the only way to find it; she felt that something in the energy outside was facilitating also, she could feel the ripples but… she had no time to find out what it could be. She already had lost so much time taking care of her body.

        After what seemed to be eons, she eventually found the door well hidden in a cave in Venezuela. The condition of the place surprised her, the cave was quite humid and muddy, the door wood was almost completely rotten, not mentioning the frame of eroded stones. She couldn’t remember why she chose these elements when she created this entry on earth, but apparently she didn’t put enough energy in it and her attention had been away for so long that it was crumbling apart. She didn’t have time for recrimination at the moment so she moved through the door and her presence lightened up the inner room.

        It was a place in between dimensions, an inner study from where she could gather and connect her discoveries in the different places she had visited; a good place to plan her next moves. The room was well equiped to find missing objects too. All she had to do was find that missing cube…

        It had to be close to the center, in a manner of speaking at equal distance from the different dimensions that were connected to it. She had to be careful in the process as some parts of the study were close enough of other dimensions that she would forget all about what she was looking for. There was a potentiality for disengagement here and that wouldn’t help her at all.

        #1209

        From Georges’ account of his first encounter with Phoebe Chesterhope. Part II

        She wasn’t paying attention to the other clients. She was like one of these statues at Madame Tussauds, still and beautiful, surrounded by mystery. Was she lost in her thoughts? Her rich clothes suggested that she was fortunate and the anxious look the jeweller was giving her every 2 minutes let me think that she was also quite influencing.

        About ten minutes after we had entered the shop with Catherine, a man arrived. Small and bald, poorly dressed, he was carrying a parcel wrapped in a piece of rough fabric that he was holding very carefully. The owner almost jumped on him in his rush and told him something briefly before he introduced him to Madam Tussaud, her face suddenly filled up with life. Not that she was smiling or welcoming him in any manner, but her eyes were suddenly sparkling with determination. I realized that she was taking on herself not to look too obviously at the parcel.

        “I expect you have a more private place so we can discuss our arrangement with mister…”
        “Fessard, Madam. Roger Fessard.”
        “Whatever…” she took her time to look openly at the other customers before she continued, staring reproachfully at the man. “I need some privacy to evaluate what he brought me.”

        Her accent was almost perfect and her french flawless. But faking to be a stranger myself most of the time, I was sure she wasn’t from here… maybe Britain.

        “Of course, Madam” said the owner in his conspicuous servile tone. He led Madam and Roger to a door behind the counter and they entered the room; the bald man put his packet on a table and began to unwrap it as Madam said sharply to the jeweller : “Leave us.” The damn man obeyed and closed the door before I could see anything more.

        #1192
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          “It’s the Interjection Intersection, TOOT TOOT coming through!” Baked Bean called gaily, holding her wine glass aloft as she squeezed through the crowd of revellers.

          “Gotta get some more of those Kwon Tum Fizz Sticks, TOOT TOOT! Coming through!”

          Baked Bean Barb was more than a little tipsy, but so was everyone else at Bea and Leonora’s Day of the Dead gathering. The Boulder Moving Party had had to be cancelled, due to the rain, but many of the guests had arrived anyway and the cottage was packed.

          Bea was still cackling madly and having a hoot with the guests into the wee hours, but Leonora was beginning to fade in and out. Sitting next to the woodstove, she closed her eyes, random snippets of conversations wafting through her mind interspersed with snatches of dreams.

          “…it’s the blanket prediction festival today…”

          “…they all say the same sling…”

          “…its The Absolute Sling!”

          “…not that there is some portals, or there isn’t any portals, not that it’s any predictions or any non-prediction, but you see, the watermelons are better than orange in the new energy…”

          “…cakes are great Bea, what are they called?”

          Yuki Buns they are, and that’s an Araili Tart…French recipe actually…the Armelle Caramel isn’t French though, dunno where….”

          Someone snorted with laughter and said “I had Ogean Porridge for breakfast this morning…”

          “…bloody porridge, man, you’re in Spain now, you should be eating Paella Patel…”

          “Fran Fritters and Baruch Kebabs for me, mate, I like Obarbecued best…”

          “…Kai Jon Prawns and Creole Opancakes…”

          Hoots of laughter: “…oh a mergence…”

          “…Frags Legs…”

          “Take one aspect of Araili and one eye of Oba….
          One pinch of Snoot…”

          “…a tablesnoot…”

          “…and a cup of glukenitch droppings…”

          “Not that much!!”

          “Here, have some banoonanawananas and badulnuts” Bea said, passing round a bowl of, well, banoonanawananas and badulnuts. “Anyone for Oonatchos?”

          All this talk of food was making Leonora hungry. She rubbed her eyes and made her way into the kitchen.

          :yahoo_pumpkin:

          #1185

          “Did you see how Malvina went to her date?”
          “Yes I saw it beloved” and she added with a giggle “though she probably wouldn’t like us to call that a ‘date’ huhu”.
          “Ahaha” Georges was enjoying himself with various associations connected to his periphery. Associations with words like ‘date’, or with time-space connections, like the ones related to the dress Malvina was wearing.

          Salome huddled herself up against Georges, and not looking at him, said in a dreamy gaze “I remember perfectly that first time we heard about the Zynder”
          Georges answered, surfing on his own associations “I remember how people had so much trouble pronouncing it ‘right’ — Ze-In-dear, Zee-Indeer, Zaindher…ahaha it was so funny”.

          Then coming back to Salome’s last sentence that had been hanging in the soft silence unanswered. “I think I heard about it before you did, but I was vaguely aware of it. You were the one to tell me the legend.”

          “Yes, on that first day on the Kandulim, where the Zentaura told me about it.”
          “I would love you to tell me again…”

          The Legend of the Zyndre

          as told to Salome by Zharon the 44th, of the Zentaura’s tribe

          There is a legend among the people of this place, that people love to remind themselves of in times of despair. It’s the legend of this mythical creature named the Zyndre.
          What the Zyndre looks like, nobody knows for sure until they see one. Because once you see one, you know what it is, without a shadow of doubt. It may be tricky because some people have seen one, and they get into fights about what it looks like, for such is the nature of the Zyndre that its form is diverse and it doesn’t show itself to two people the same.
          That’s why my people have named it Zyndre, which means “the creature of a thousand forms”.
          Some people have searched to catch it, but their attempts have always failed. For the Zyndre doesn’t show itself to the forceful people. The Zyndre is a peaceful creature that will find for you what you most desire.
          That’s why many people have used to represent it with a large nose, for it is a seeker. It may find anything you want, but you have to desire it so much that it becomes the main focus of your attention. It burns in your head, not like a madness, but like a warm reinsurance, a soft knowingness that you will indeed find it, that which you desire most.
          So that once you find the Zyndre, you know you’ve reached that thing that you desire, because the Zyndre is pointing you in its very direction.

          “You know Georges”, she says “that night on the beach, I dreamt of the Zyndre”
          “Really? And how did you perceive it?”
          “It was beautiful, not like the classical representations we see, of that big-nosed creature; it was so elegant, like a small silver-shining spotted doe, with tall feet proportionally to its body, not unlike the Qilin of the ancient Chinese; and it was proposing me to ride it to escape its enclosure.
          And I was thinking in the dream, ‘it must be strange and a bit uncomfortable when it’s galloping’ —because it’s small, and my feet will touch the ground.”
          “So did you ride it?”
          “Yes, and you were with me, and it was carrying us with ease and grace, like it was floating and gliding above the ground…” Salome looked at Georges with a smile “So that when I woke up, I knew without a shadow of a doubt, that I was exactly where I most desired to be.”

          #1184

          “So we’ll be moving as soon as the others come back from their trip. Very well, that will be a great opportunity to see new environments for YikesVincentius acknowledged the news with his usual composure.

          “Very well then, I hope you are not too worried about Arona, but she…”
          “Not at all” Vincentius answered with a smile.
          “Oh… Okay then. Perfect!”

          Malvina added as if to make sure he had understood everything properly “So, I’ll be at my friend’s den for a few days. Georges and Salome will be here in case you need anything, and of course Buckie, though he might be a bit unpredictable…”

          “Have a safe voyage” so Vincentius, who was not of many words when it wasn’t about saying something meaningful, ended the conversation.

          :fleuron:

          To go to see her friend Yimho, Malvina wanted to look pretty —not dashing, but not looking like a country girl either. She reached for the linen embroidered dress with the zynder patterns. She loved it, it would be perfect.

          Yimho was a guy living nearby she had known briefly from her days of Sorcery training, who had a rejuvenating cave situated just under a hot spring, so that water was running almost everywhere inside the cave. On the walls, the floor, little pools everywhere. Yimho had this uncanny interest in golfindels and was telling all sorts of stuff to entertain people with; stuff that he got from tuning himself to the consciousness of the creatures.
          Malvina was thinking she would have a nice time there, though the echoes of clicking sounds throughout Yimho’s dwelling were a bit disturbing…

          #1177
          AvatarJib
          Participant

            Yann was feeling a bit uncertain of what to do next. These past few days had been evolving in an unfamiliar direction and doing familiar things like going to work, eating at more or less fix hours (the same kind of food), and even checking the mail sitting on their sofa was feeling uncomfortable.
            Most of the time, if he continued focusing on what was happening in the outside world, he was feeling overwhelmed really quickly and things he was doing at that moment would kind of escape his control… the plates would fly over if he was washing the dishes, the tooth brush would hit his gums savagely if he was brushing his teeth… Not so gentle reminder in his opinion.
            Well, all of that was making him ponder about becoming completely insane in order to have an excuse of doing whatever he wanted at the moment he wanted…
            Too tired to proof read…
            :chomping:

            #1174

            Balbina had had a quite difficult week. Feeling cold, having trouble to find sleep, not even speaking of being unable to do the kind of out-of-body travel she had managed to do last time.
            She was almost starting to doubt she could redo it again.

            Of course, the relocation at her son’s cottage was a source of much change in her habits, and although he wasn’t at home most of time, she wasn’t really feeling like she was ‘at home’. Strangest thing really, as for the time she was at the hospice she wasn’t feeling as much an alien as in this cottage. At least, at the hospice, she was in a sort of neutral environment, some place where she wasn’t undesirable (would it be asking for too much to actually be desirable at her age?). Here, the environment wasn’t neutral at all; everywhere everything reminded her of her son: his books, the posters, even the dust on the coffee table was almost looking as though it was his own.

            So she had to adjust. Contort her energy to fit —to crumple herself!— into this place, as it would be likely she would spend quite some time here. She wasn’t asking for much really, as she wasn’t able to move from the bed he’d had installed in the spare room. Ghastly room, with a creepy wallpaper from a has-been era of the past days, year 2000 or close she’d guess, gaudy as it was… oriented to the south, with hardly bearable heat during the day. She would have loved to see the coast on the north, but instead, the only window was showing her the shade of the trees, and that ominous alligator-green mountain just behind.

            If she couldn’t project in her dreams as she managed to do before, she would soon either die of boredom or of heat. She wasn’t too sure which one would be the most painless and efficient.

            She pushed the button to have her bed roll a little closer to the window; once straightened up a bit, she was able to see the passageway to the mountain. She couldn’t explain why she didn’t like this mountain; it was quite beautiful; perhaps she feared to be lost and abandoned. All the more since she could feel so much presence in this environment. Unseen presence, and trickster ones too.

            She was tired, and yawned so much her tense jaw’s muscles ached.

            On the emerald path to the forest, a moving teal wisp of light caught her attention. Funny plays of light at this hour of the day. But the wisp was persistent, and it started to move towards her.

            “Good day Balbina!”

            The crazy rabbit was back again. And… she was sleeping? In or out?

            “In or out, smell my foot, it’s your choice, and matters not
            but be quick, and come forth, for Anita and her folks this wicked way come!”

            “The tune is set, the tunnel is close
            Of playfulness you’ll need a hefty dose”

            #1171
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              “Mr Ryell?”
              “Yes?”
              “It’s such an honor to meet you, your carvings are absolutely gorgeous! I’ve bought one for my mother, she loves your creations so much!”

              Sam H. Ryell, known as Sam to his friends, was waiting in his studio for Tina and Al to come pick him up for the Hallowe’en celebration. His exposition of vitrified watermelon and pumpkin carvings had attracted lots of folks from all corners of New Venice, quite unexpectedly.
              He wasn’t too sure he deserved all the compliments, but if the lady’s mother loved his carvings, why muddy one’s pleasure.

              Truth was, since he’d came back from the Floridisles, he’d felt completely uninspired to carve any longer. All the carvings that were on display were at least three months old. And the more recent of these were not actually of his doing,… not quite entirely.
              He wanted to do something else, try other materials. No matter what they all said; he was fed up with vegetables.

              “Perhaps I’ll try nuts next, what do you reckon, Foxam?”

              The little nine-tailed fox yelped at him approvingly.

              #1158
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Mademoiselle Mongoose was the Director of Public Relations at the Z.O.O. (short for Zoological Organization of Outcasts) which was no easy task. Her job entailed ensuring that the members remained Outcasts whilst endeavouring to foster an attitude of Acceptance from the general public. The dilemma was that oftentimes, once an Outcast was Accepted, he no longer qualified as an Outcast and according to the rules, was no longer eligible to remain at the Z.O.O.

                Mlle Mongoose couldn’t find the new Outcast anywhere. The enormous Anaconda, affectionately nicknamed Nana Croissant, was Absent Presumed Escaped Soft, which was one of Mlle Mongoose’s biggest headaches at the Z.O.O. There seemed to be a disproportionate number of A.P.E.S. at the Z.O.O.


                Mlle Mongoose sighed. If Nana Croissant couldn’t be located, Mlle Mongoose would have to report the disappearance to her superior, Sir Raphael Cabra-Chevre. Thankfully the Z.O.O. also had a disproportionately high population of R.A.B.B.I.T.S. (Rare Intermediate ‘Best Bait In Town’ Stars), to cover for the erratic and unpredictable behaviour of the A.P.E.S., ensuring that there was plenty going on for the General Public at all times. (It may be noted by the S.W.A.N.S. ~ Sumafi Workers Affiliated Normal Society ~ that R.I.B.B.I.T.S. would be more technically accurate, however they were generally accepted as R.A.B.B.I.T.S. to Those In The Show ~ otherwise known as T.I.T.S.)

                Mlle Mongoose decided to enlist the help of the C.A.M.E.L.S. (Central Agency for Missing, Escaped & Lost Softs) before alerting Sir Raphael Cabra-Chevre.

                The Case of The Disappearing Aardvark was another matter, though. Mlle Mongoose decided to call in the M.E.E.R.C.A.T.S. (Missing Entities & Essences Roll Call and Time Share)

                #1155

                Marvin Scrozzezi was thinking he should really start to find a more suitable title for the movie…

                Teri, one of the actresses he had in mind for the much desired role of Finnley, —in fact the actress, that he had almost wrote the part having her in mind— had refused to audition because of the script’s working title with that undignified ‘R—’ word (a hint to the reader, it’s not what you think)…

                He was thinking… French people had romantic and colourful ways of expressing the same thing… sweeping the chimney, leaking the leek… Argh… forget it…
                He wasn’t sure that “T’Eggy Finds a Big Butternut Squash” would be better either.

                He really sucked at finding titles.

                #1146

                “Oh My God” exclaimed Bea. “I had a dream about the DOOR!”

                “Oh, well done! The question is, did you remember it?” asked Leonora.

                “As a matter of fact, Leo, I did!” replied Bea with a happy smile. “As a matter of fact, although I’m not too sure how factual matter really is, but anyway, I did remember the dream, and I wrote it all down.”

                “Gosh, up early this morning, weren’t you?” asked Leo, who was sipping coffee at the kitchen table and watching the sun come up over the mountains through the open door.

                “Oh I didn’t write it down this morning, silly! I wrote it all down last week.”

                Leo placed her cup on the table and rubbed her eyes, frowning. “Wait a minute, let me get this straight…..”

                Bea laughed ~ she was in rather a jolly mood, despite the early hour. “I had the dream last week, Leo, but I only just realized this morning that the dream was about THE DOOR

                “So what did you learn about the door, then?”

                Bea frowned. “Well I’m not really sure. But it seemed so significant because it was that scary door, you know, the dreams I’ve been having for years about that door in that bedroom that’s too scary to get near, never mind go through….would you like to read it? Maybe you can interpret it for me.”

                “If I must” sighed Leonora “You better pour me another cup of coffee then and pass me those cigarettes.”

                Leonora read from Bea’s Dream Journal:

                I was sorting winter clothes out on an upstairs landing of a cottagey gabled house,
                and decided to use the upstairs bedroom instead of the downstairs one.
                The bedroom was a recurring dream one, gabled attic with dormer windows kind of room.
                Then I saw the door and remembered this was the door I was always too terrified
                in dreams to open; it was so scary that I always wanted to use this bedroom
                but never could because of that terrifying door and whatever lay beyond it.

                “Didn’t you do a waking dream and go through that door?” Leonora asked. “Oh, yes here is is…”

                Remembering that I had done a waking dream and gone beyond the door once,
                I marched up to the door, flung it open and strode through.
                Suddenly an almost overpowering fear and dread stopped me in my tracks
                but I carried on anyway.

                “Oh, bloody well done, Bea! Good for you, girl!” Leonora could be a bit waspish at times, but she was a kind old soul underneath.

                 It was a bit like a old slightly shabby but once grand hotel foyer, high ceilings
                (not the same as when I went through in the waking dream, which was then rows
                of closed doors on either side).  The foyer opened out on the left into a large old
                fashioned restaurant dining room, with one person over on the far side sitting at
                a table.  I carried on straight ahead through opaque etched glass double doors
                onto an upstairs outdoor terrace.  There was a city scene below.  On the left
                was a shallow ornately shaped ornamental pool.

                “Reminds me a bit of our trip to Barcelona, this does, eh” Leo commented.

                “Yeah, I’m sure that had something to do with the gargoyle imagery” replied Bea.

                A woman squeezed past me holding a small thick book and I knew she was
                going to jump off the terrace which was several storeys up.  She collapsed into
                the pool, writhing backwards, baring a flat white breast and dropping the book.

                “Flat breast, hahah Bea, that weren’t you then, obviously, was it!”

                Bea chuckled. “Not bloody likely! I reckon that bit slipped in the dream because I can’t find a comfortable bra lately”

                “You and me both” replied Leo. She continued reading from the journal.

                I picked up the book, and somehow ended up with two books, which seemed like guide books. I couldn’t hold onto the two books with the creature in my hand, which was weird, like a very heavy small furry grey reptile, or gargoyle.

                “Maybe it was a baby dragon?”

                “Don’t say that!” retorted Bea, who had a horror of dragons. “The thought did cross my mind too, though” she admitted.

                I was holding it with one hand round its middle and the fat grey belly of it
                was bulging out under my fingers.  It was unbelievably heavy for such a small creature
                and I didn't want to hold it, so I passed it to a boy. (Twice I was holding the creature,
                and twice I passed it to the boy, but I can't recall the other time)
                Back inside the building, I followed the boy down a big wide staircase that
                curved round to the right at a landing below.  I started to fall down the stairs and
                knew it was because of the book that I was holding that the woman had been holding
                when she collapsed into the pool, so I threw the book down the stairs to save myself,
                and felt the tumbling down from the books perspective, although I stayed in
                the same place, clutching the banister.

                “Well I am amazed that you remembered so much, Bea! Going through the doors and finding the books reminds me of Jane’s Library you know”. Leo was starting to go into an altered state.

                “Are you going into an altered state, Leo?” asked Bea. “Are you channeling Juani Ramirez again?”

                “The creature, the gargoyle, was representing ‘a different species of awareness, of consciousness’” continued Leonora, as Bea hastily started taking notes. Leo wouldn’t remember what she’d said while she was channeling Juani, so it was essential that Bea record what was said.

                “The weight was a marker to help you recall the creature, as well as being symbolic of denseness”

                Bea couldn’t help making a snirking noise. Dense eh, she said under her breath.

                “The door” continued Leonora “Is a signpost, a marker.”

                Just then the phone rang, snapping Leonora out of the trance. Bea picked up the telephone, but there was nobody there.

                “Pffft” said Bea.

                “More coffee?”

                #1135

                — “Dory?”
                — “What, hon’?” a distracted Dory answered to young Becky
                — “You’d better remove the magnets from the iron, or you’ll ruin another one…”
                — “What are you talking about?!” Dory was perplexed, trying to find her way through the airport to Gate 57-¾, but only to find nothing but benches in between Gate 57 and 58.
                — “Oh, never mind… It’s only a dream and you probably won’t remember it anyway.”

                “There!” the suspicious bag lady of the Heathrow terminal had reappeared briefly just for Dory to spot her entering the restrooms.
                Becky was already rolling the heavy bumper-stickers patched suitcase to follow her without question.

                — “But why are you taking the suitcase to go to the bathroom, Beck’?”
                — “What are you talking about Dory!” Becky was sometimes losing patience. “Can’t you see it’s the entrance for Gate 57-¾?!”
                — “Uh?” A moment of clueless mystery on Dory’s face. “Oh…” Another mini-black hole on her face.

                “Oh. Okay then. Let’s go…”

                If there was something that her exotic life had taught Dory, it was to never question the moment. If the circumstances are here, if the impulse is there, then go for it. Explanations will follow. And in case they don’t, make them up as you roll and rock!

                Becky meanwhile was rather surprised at how people, even her own step-mother, as tuned in ghostly stuff as she was, most of the time failed to see the things for what they really are. And if these big painted letters on the door “GATE 57 ¾” weren’t obvious enough, and people preferred to interpret them as restrooms, then… what else could be done? She sighed.
                Later on, she would learn that it was a common, well documented trait in human consciousness; that people were sometimes psychologically (but not physically) blind to stuff outside of their current focus of attention, or simply blind to things too far off their beliefs; in other terms, it was a matter of energy reconfiguration. As long as it worked…

                “Oh look at that… Yukailli Airlines counter is here! What bloody stupid idea to put a closet door at the entrance…”

                After having made the departure arrangements at the counter, Dory came back to Becky who was looking outside at the planes.

                — “Ain’t them beautiful?”
                — “Yeah, and I suppose you’re seeing planes, aren’t you?”
                — “Err, yes of course, what else, silly… Though now you ask me, they seem a bit weird… foggy or something”.

                In fact, what Becky was seeing wasn’t conventional planes. It was more like “fly-boats”. Some sorts of hybrid ships made to fly with huge wings transparent and shiny like those of flies.

                — “I hope they have crunchy coleslaw for meal, I’m starving” a contented and tired Dory said, when she collapsed into the comfortable seats.

                #1114

                Inside the cave, the presence of Leormn, though not completely gone, had diminished strongly. Most of the creatures inside the cave were thriving on his presence and his continuous reshaping of the corridors or the chambers. His presence was fading out gradually, and some of the more sensitive creatures were beginning to feel a discomfort, a kind of emptiness or a sensation of cold.

                Malvina was not alarmed yet, it was a good thing he had allowed himself that little escapade. In a subtle way, he was reconciling some aspects of himself that he had been unaware of yet, and it was also a surprise to Malvina that the gates would reopen in that particular time frame, to the long lost sister of the Duane. Her awareness of what her dragon was doing was dim, and it had been so since the door had shut after the passage of Arona. This young girl had more than one trick up her mouldy cloak, and though she was unaware of most of them, she had an innate sense of using them wittingly.

                Malvina smiled at the thought that she was quite similar to the girl when she was young… a long time ago.

                But for now, she had other processes to set in motion. She focused on herself and adjusted her energy to match the signature of her friends Georges and Salome. It didn’t took long. Their presence was quite strong. As they were busy at the moment, she decided to go for a walk and meet them on her way.

                :fleuron:

                Georges and Salome were in the pool chamber that Leormn had kindly created for them inside the cave. It was continuously provided in hot water by a spring located on the ceiling and several families of glukenitch had furnished the place with the perfect amount of light…

                Georges was following her progression from a ledge made of a rock similar to granite. He’d always been fascinated by her way of expressing her grace and technical mastery in any domain. When they had met, she couldn’t swim… and she wouldn’t. It’d been years later, when she had got rid of her wariness of water that she had considered the idea.
                Now she was as comfortable inside and outside water, as well as in many different environments.

                Being continuously connected, their energy field mingled in such an intimate way, he could easily turn his attention on her physical sensations; all the tiniest movements of the water upon her skin and also all of the adjustments she was making to her body inside and outside to improve the efficiency of her movements.

                He dived off his observation point to play with her.
                Alerted by his movement, she went deeper into the pool. He knew that she hadn’t modified her body to the point of incorporating gills, because it was usually difficult for her to get rid of them afterward. She had a soft spot for apnea, though and she was quite able of staying under water for lengthy amount of time.

                Still focused on his swimming, he began to redirect certain aspects of his body consciousness. Some were unnecessary for his purpose, so he got rid of them; and he needed to give some other qualities to his skin. It took him a few seconds to shape-shift and he focused on his new physical senses to indicate him where she was.

                When she realized what Georges was doing, she resisted the impulse to go to the surface.
                What is he up to? she thought. When he’s in the process of shape-shifting his attention is so oriented inside that I can’t usually get any impression about his new shape, but

                A flash of light illuminated the water around him, and the rhythm of the blinking cells of his new skin was creating a time related pattern with an hypnotic effect. Salome was feeling drowsy and she had to maintain her attention on herself or she’d better get back to the surface soon. If she wanted to play with him now, she would have to change form too.

                #1107
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  “Watermelon produces an effect similar to that of Viagra, researchers say. A slice of juicy watermelon contains citrulline that can trigger the production of a substance that relaxes the body’s blood vessels. A similar effect is produced when a man takes a Viagra pill.”

                  “Well, that might explain a few things” thought Becky.

                  “However, the vegetable is not so organ-specific as Viagra…..”

                  “Hmm, I wonder if that would explain the butler’s preposterous breasts ?”

                  #1087
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Phlynn was late. “You just can’t get the staff these days” grumbled T’Eggy. Where was the dratted man? All she wanted was a quick leg-over before dinner, and now that Hector wasn’t coming after all, she could have spent more time with Phlynn.

                    Unbeknownst to T’Eggy, Phylnn was in the stables, struggling into his pistachio green jewel studded sari. He was late for the rendezvous in the library, and in his haste to don the disguise of a sultry voluptuous sultana, the endless yards of fabric wrapped around his long legs in a hopeless tangle.

                    #1074
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      “What on earth is Al suggesting now, I wonder” mused Becky, who was catching up with the latest additions to the Reality Play. Frowning, she wondered how to handle it. It was often a challenge when one of the other writers interfered with her story line plans.

                      “Well, be honest, Becky” she said to herself “You were floundering a bit with all this boring tropical romance stuff, wafting around the Facility with nothing more interesting to do than sip cool drinks and wink at Gayesh.”

                      Becky put the sheaf of printed pages on the table beside her, lost in thought. The warm still evening air was beginning to be stifling, and she felt trapped, smothered in the blue velvet embrace of the night, sickened by the scent of the perfumed flowers and rotting fruit, and suddenly bored beyond endurance.

                      “I’m going back home” she decided. “I’ll leave a deposit of cells here, swap places with Becky Tooh, and she can come back here and take her chances with Gayesh and the clone experiment.”

                      Perhaps her babies and her lush of a husband back home would be more exciting.

                      “I can always swap back again later if it gets tedious in New Venice” she added, having a moment of trepidation at the thought of her responsibilities as a mother of triplets. She liked to keep her options open, keep an escape plan on the back burner.

                      With a light heart and a spring in her step, she grabbed the papers off the table and ran upstairs to pack.

                      “Maybe a stop over in Long Pong on the way” she decoded. “Oh look at that!” she said to herself “I meant to say decided and wrote decoded instead. Pfft” she grumbled “That must be because I’m worried about decoding all the other strange additions to the Reality Play that have been spewed forth lately. Sheesh, do Al and Sam honestly think I will ever catch up now? Oh bugger it all, Long Pong, here I come!”

                      #1072

                      This door is influenced by the energy you irradiate.

                      You have to trust your energy in order for it to lead you to the most fulfilling place.

                      Irtak drew his hand closer to the rippling surface of the door. Its aspect was so changing that it was like he was seeing all the tiniest elements that composed the matter, whatever it was. Hesitating, he asked Leormn.

                      — Are you trying one of your tricks on me? It’s like I’m hypnotized.

                      He’s not trying to lure you in… said Jeckle.
                      The vibration you are currently feeling is the resonance of your energy with the one filtering through that door. said Heckle. I suspect it comes from another realm…
                      But it is close to this one, Jeckle added. His muzzle quivered with excitement. I feel a friendly energy filtering from the other side.

                      The waves of curiosity emitted by his friends were compelling, and Leormn could feel it. He himself was very interested by what he could feel was some kind of counterpart of himself. He was familiar with the energy but it was somewhat different from his own.

                      Our strong desire is maintaining the door open. We can go safely through it and return in no time… he suggested in a soft persuasive tone.

                      Arona, who was feeling a bit forgotten, grunted and added a tad dubious :
                      — I’m not sure we should do it. We should tell the others… Where are they by the way?

                      Apparently, the dragons and the boy were more fascinated by what was leaking out of her drawing. She’d been a bit surprised that one of her creations… if one could call the few brushstrokes a creation… that it could produce such an odd reaction. She couldn’t help but notice that the two words were anagrams.

                      Leormn looked at her with a renewed interest.

                      I’m feeling you are connected to that other realm, dear Arona. We all are in a way, but it’s like your lineage came from that… gate. Would you dare find out about your origin?

                      She looked at him dubiously. His gaze was so intense that one moment…

                      — Are you serious? she asked.

                      He grinned… Who knows… if you don’t go you may never find out ;)) and I’m sure the others can take care of themselves when we are gone.

                      Saying that he jumped on the other side like he was acting on a whim.

                      The twins looked at each other and followed him… and Irtak was next…
                      What was she to do?
                      It was almost as if the door was staring at her. Challenging her… and she didn’t really like to be alone in these dark corridors.
                      She jumped in and felt completely stretched out for what seemed a few seconds. She almost lost sense of who she was when an image started to form in her mind.

                      It expanded until she was surrounded by a warm sensation of well being and lightness. She was completely safe in this place.
                      A sudden woosh and a sensation of cold. She fell on the floor, her members suddenly failing her. The light was completely different and she couldn’t hear anything. Panic began to overwhelm her and she realized she couldn’t emit any sound either.

                      As suddenly as it was gone, her sense of hearing reappeared.

                      Who was shouting like that?

                      AronaArona!

                      The directedness in the tone was enough to make her recover her balance. She stopped shouting and began to notice her other senses… nothing particular at first, but she had the weird impression that it was different. Looking around her, she saw that the dragons were sniffing around like puppies and Irtak was following them like one of them.

                      — Where are we? she asked Leormn.
                      The sound of her voice was lower-pitched than usual, and Leormn started to laugh at her look of dismay.

                      Hahaha! I don’t know yet… but we have all the time to discover.

                      — Can’t we come back to the cave now? I don’t feel comfortable here… look at the sand, it’s purple… maybe it’s some kind of bacteria or something, maybe it’s contagious…

                      He gave her one of those irritating wink. She was about to retort bluntly when she realized there was no way back.
                      The door had disappeared.

                      #1053
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        “What are we going to do now, Bea? This is dreadful news! I can’t bear the thought of moving again!” Leonora started to cry. “I can’t believe the landlord is coming back so soon. I like it here! I thought we were settled, for once, just for once, settled, stable….”

                        Bea groaned. “Don’t, Leo! Stop snivelling for god’s sake, get a grip woman! We’ll just throw our stuff into some plastic bin bags and move somewhere else! How difficult is that, fer chrissake? I bet there’ll be another finca right close to here and it won’t be any trouble at all.”

                        “What about the door!” hissed Leo. “Have you forgotten the door?”

                        “What door?” asked Bea.

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