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  • #1468
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      :yahoo_idea:Well, that all sounds rather technical to me, I think I need a fairy helper from fairyland to magically assist me with technical details, I think I’ll call my helper Tekka…no, Tikka…WAIT! I already have a fairy helper, her name is Tiki! So THAT’S who she is! The little cutie that appeared as if by magic in my mailbox is my tech support fairy godmother!:yahoo_tongue: :yahoo_idea: :yahoo_big_grin:

      #1467
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Blue quote thingy

        The blue quote thingy is made with bq. (blockquote) at the beginning of a new line.

        bq. will give that

        will give that

        If it extends to many paragraphs, then use

        bq.. my long quote
        continued
        p.  *back to normal paragraph again*

        my long quote

        continued

        back to normal paragraph again

        You can have more details in the Textile help file for other more complex designs…

        Searching

        :face-glasses: I tried in both the search tab, and the “quicksearch”, and it seems OK.

        Only trick is in the search tab, when you look up, say… “Arona”… you have to click on the highlighted extract, and not on the title, if you want to be brought directly to the one of the many comments where Arona appears ;))

        #1308

        In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          September 24 th

          Quintin remembered a snapshot of the notes that Dory had taken during her first trip to the Madagascan caves, a year ago.

          Relevant extracts:

          At one moment, I saw some hooded figure in the sideways tunnels… He vanished on the left, couldn’t follow him…
          […] HE KNEW HIS WAY INSIDE !
          When he vanished, I had the vision of something, […] like the layout of a labyrinth, of cave tunnels — that are all underground and the many entrances are all over the world… PORTALS
          focus opening/doors ; time/space…
          The central cavernous part is some kind of key center, where anyone can meet…

          This has inspired Quintin to write some notes too.
          He has the vision of these portals organized as clusters, like a tree, with branches and leaves… I will send him a more detailed image, but that may take him some time to digest!

          September 26 th

          The latest additions to the story have inspired Quintin. He had some inkling of how “essence” (or what is somewhat referred as “oversoul” ) and all the “focus” of essence (or lifetimes) interplay, and are not as separate as they sometimes seem to be.

          Here would be what we will say to him, if he wants to listen:

          « Now, terminology can become tricky as, for much time, you have been accustomed to be considering of your experience as the projection of that of an “essence”, somewhat separate from you, the lowly focus.
          Of course, you pretend the contrary, and become quite nifty in brandishing sentences like “I am essence, and I create all of my reality”, which you are and do actually, but that you do not always believe and trust.
          These terms of “essence” and “focus” were given to you as means for you to better understand the interplay of consciousness. In the beginning of the acquaintance with these new terminologies, you have felt them remotely blurry and unrelated to previous concepts, which was the intention. But now, you once again objectify your understanding in something too rigid at times, and that little story is giving you a hint of what your real power is.
          And you begin to really experience it, and really pay attention.

          « As was expressed many times, “essence” is no thing. It is an action.
          The “essence” is each of you, that very portion of you that you feel when you slide your attention into the comment box.
          In that, your purpose, you see, is only to experience, nothing more, nothing less.
          And then time, as you know it, becomes irrelevant, you see. Your natural time is expressed through you and your explorations.
          Notice how playfully, as essence (essence playing focus or focus playing essence), you let your natural time unfold, and at times find some strange weather pattern in your awareness that needs clarification. As essence, you playfully find the most perfect habits [shapes and clothings] to wrap around you, and continue your story.
          Just as your dreams at night overlap and blend into each other.
          Just as Rafaela created new focuses [Sam and Becky] to continue to play and make the story expand for all of the other focuses, Dory included.

          « That “I” of you is ever present, and is reflected perfectly in others’ perceptions, as you are drawing them to you purposefully. Do not brush aside their adjuncts, for they are also you, having moved your pawns forward, so to speak, through their moves.

          « Thus understand that the story is a continuous stream reflecting the essence that is you, and your travel through the various guises you borrow.
          In that manner, it does not matter how much sense it makes in linear terms. Because, in a way, it can’t make sense in these linear terms.

          « Let us explain this in other terms.
          When you found difficulties in understanding the “scheme” so to speak, the figure that is drawn by the participants, it is because you apply the linear understanding of what such a scheme should be.
          In that, you only perceive the “plot” as a succession of dots without a continuity, whereas the continuity is to be found in the other stories interwoven.
          You are accustomed to stories where a single individual is enacting throughout the play, in a linear continuous fashion. The individual goes through many different actions, but is always the same in your perception.
          Here, the tricky thing is to notice the continuity throughout the various habits [clothings] taken by the essence(s). It matters not that the essence takes that guise of say, a pirate sailing on high seas, just after having been an old crafty Lord in his windy castle. The underlying aspects of his exploration has been continuous and coherent: in this case, exploring and making sense of one’s exploration. It is just that a certain appearance has been perhaps more fitting to express certain aspects or qualities of essence, but the exploration has been one, throughout the entirety of the experience.

          « We will let you ponder this, and we will continue our own story, writing about you… »

          September 28 th

          This sand symbol that Quintin has brought up seemed to have come from many directions at once. Each character has connected it, in various ways.
          Armelle (Arona) to her magic, Rafaela (Becky) to her collecting customs, etc. etc.

          Let us say that this symbol is not as innocent as it may seem. There are lots of associations with sand.
          It is solid, yet fluid. In association with water, it can be used to build, and also to erode. It can shift into many forms, one of which is your glass, and your electronic components.
          And most of all, it is, after your very oxygen, the most abundant constituent of your reality.
          It is almost limitless in your understanding.
          As is your magic.

          This magical device we made Quintin see in a visualization is an analogy of your very action of creation as essences.
          The sand which molds itself to make forms and shapes in three dimensions is in fact likened to your consciousness. Each grain of sand represents your links of consciousness that bind together to do your command.
          The shapes are moved by your essences, in which you may see that the essence is no thing at all, but is a continuous stream of action, not separate from others’.

          As Quintin said to Fiona, some individuals do differently when they create and shape their sands.
          In analogy with the coloured sands, some people like Quintin enjoy using other people’s colours in shaping his own characters, while some others prefer to keep their own colours, to create a more definite sense of individuality. But they integrate the others’ movements and shapes nonetheless, regardless of how much they perceive it to be coming from them.

          With that said, let us see how much more will appear from that sandbox…

          September 30 th

          The Wrick family tree as it is now (or “will be” drawn around the time of the twins in 2057).

          The Secret Life of Margaret Wrick , a newspaper cut from 2033.

          October 7 th

          The dragon Naasir’s dream
          A panorama illustrating the portals between the worlds created by each of the participants… But who is dreaming, really?

          And an illustration of Chiara’s encounter with the glutton “dreggun” Buckberry

          #79
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            These are excerpts from Yuki’s diary, explaining some of the details of the experiment called — Malvina’s story —.

            Note: for the reader not familiar with all the names here is a quick reminder:

            • Araili > Yann, Írtak, Sam, Jacob …
            • Armelle > Fiona, Arona, Tina, Qixi …
            • Rafaela > Dory, Illi, Becky, Rodney …
            • Yuki > Quintin, Al, Janice …

            September 12 th, 2007

            Today, an experiment has been launched by Quintin. Time will tell if it will bear some fruit, but the idea sounds good.
            Having people join in a story telling, and see what happens, what are the “lessons” one can draw from this…

            Armelle, Rafaela and Araili are already on the starting-blocks, though Quintin is not quite aware yet.

            I can hear some thoughts: Let’s say for the moment that there are no rules. We will see what prompts the desire for having rules…

            September 13 th

            Some of the people familiar with Janice and her friends’ adventures have already joined in with much enthusiasm.
            This first comment seems very promising.

            Right now, it feels easy and fun.

            Quintin seems to think that everything is very straightforward.
            The magical world with the cave in one part, separated from the “real” world. (Two Worlds, and he thinks that will be enough to content Rafaela, ahaha, how presumptuous)
            The first he sees as a representation of what psychologists think of as “subconscious”, and the other being the conscious, physical part.

            But of course, he thinks he knows better than that. He calls the first one “subjective” rather than subconscious, because it’s a translation of subjects which unfold in many related objects in the “objective” or physical world.
            That’s a good point, though a bit distorted. It would be better to say Malvina’s World is a translation of the subjective, in the manner of a Heroic Dimension.
            But the thing is, that he missed the point in thinking one World is more “real” than the other.
            We’ll be having some fun soon…

            First remark… The second comment of the story has been interrupted abruptly in the middle of a sentence. That is interesting. We will urge Quintin to leave it as it is, despite his feeling of it being awkward.
            We will appeal to his imagination.
            It seems he has heard the suggestion.

            September 14 th

            For the most part, the story starts to get much involvement. Lots of energies are being projected into it, and with every adjunct, each participant’s perception stretches to accommodate the changes and smooth out the bumps in their own sense of continuity.

            But as I expected, some challenges seem to appear already.
            Is it raining or not in that world?
            The question seems simple, but it is very profound and Fiona seems to struggle a bit with it, as is Quintin. The question frame itself [“that World”] shows where the difficulty lies.

            He seems to avoid the discrepancy and pretend that he has not seen it. Mmmm, avoiding the obstacles… that will very soon come right back in front of you dear Quintin, for Dory is quite playful.
            At least Fiona has been challenging Dory for not paying attention… Armelle’s ineffable loving ruthlessness!
            How will it unfold?
            Rafaela seems to be delighting herself as though she’s preparing some mischief, but Dory struggles in the “back”…

            September 15 th

            Dory is indeed very playful and her imagination is unrestrained. I extend much appreciation to this focus of Rafaela, especially as Quintin has to stretch his imagination to make things “fit”.

            Quintin is still avoiding the issues that appear sporadically and prefers to stay focused on his own perception of the story… Careful Quintin :face-smile:

            Yann joins the fun —objectively, that is, for Araili has been present already since the very beginning.

            September 16 th

            Halcyons days…
            My dear friend Archie is answering some of Quintin and Yann’s questions.
            Something starts to dawn on Quintin. But his mind is on other matters.

            He understands that the energies of the writers are melding in writing the story, but he still tends to think that they blend completely.

            September 18 th

            Quintin has been drawing some of the characters of the story. It’s interesting.
            He had good insights, as Yann will tell him later that his clothes today were exactly the same as the colours he had drawn.

            Characters drawn:

            • Mavina, Leörmn the dragon and weaszchilla, Írtak, Huÿgens (and Fjutch), Arona and Illi (the gripshawk)
            • Malika, Quintin, Yann, Fiona and Dory

            Interestingly, Fiona resolves her issues in her cave.
            Dory too, but she did not need the cave to do this.

            September 21 st

            For Quintin, the story seems to lose all common sense, as some characters move from World to World. You could have expected that Quintin!
            And Dory pops in and out, in her mind, in her dream state, or in future timeline mixed with present or past one.
            Quintin will soon realize that he himself is doing this constantly, though he does not register it.

            But the worst thing for him is that there are bleedthroughs in between Worlds. The Reality Times newspaper was brilliant Rafaela, a perfect trigger for the beliefs that the Worlds are closed and impermeable to each other!

            Archie has been answering new questions about that story and this had been quite interesting for all of the participants.
            There is much for them to digest from the realization that each of them had been creating their own versions of the stories through their perceptions. And that they were each having their version of the story, drawing from each other’s input, like a conductor of an orchestra incorporating some instruments.

            Of course, some things still matter, and one of the point of the story is also to discover these.

            September 22 nd

            Quintin has been drawing new characters.

            Characters drawn:

            • Båd Al’Guz (Bådul), BelleDora, Buckberry the dragon, the twin dragon eggs, Archibald the parrot, Sanso the Wanderer
            • Illi Fergusson, another Illi that Quintin has tried to sneak in as a bait for Dory, with hints that she is disengaged (or “dead” in common vernacular) and merges with others of her focuses…
            • Jacqueline Bleomelen (Nanny Gibbon), Lord Wrick, his great grand children the twins Cuthbert and India Louise, Manfred, William P. Jobsworth the painter

            A new perception trick: Dory felt relieved upon seeing the moth feelers of BelleDora.
            She had at first thought they were whiskers, which was not Quintin’s intent…

            September 23 rd

            Quintin seems to have connected to a map drawn by Lord Wrick, when the old Lord has started to document his great grand children travels.

            Quintin had tried to put some annotations on this fragment, but he doesn’t yet completely understand that his perception of this World, though accurate, is only valid in this present moment, and may change at any time.

            Up to now, here are the names he could find:

            • North: the Icy Lands, and Dragon Cemeteries
            • Center: Goldfindely, homeland of Arona, connected to the Warring Kingdoms of Lan’ork by the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer. The Isthmus of the Dragon Head seems to lead to Malvina’s cave and hideout. Mount Elok’ram is pointed as the highest place of the World yet discovered. Three main rivers are drawn: in the ancient myths of the people of this land, they represent the three Daughters of Ghört, weavers of men’s destinies: Tibreÿa, Uleÿa, and Snimeÿa. Snimeÿa cuts the thread of life, which is shown as the river leads after many meanders to the Marshes of Doom.
            • Far East, North: the Land of Båd Al’Guz, Åsgurdy. A harsh mountainous land of islands and seas.
              Both parts of the World seem to ignore each other till now, as they are separated by the Great Rift, which in the past has deterred many intrepid navigators.
            • South: the Desert Lands. Illi’s birthplace, rarely explored by humans thus unaware of most of its marvels, gripshawks nomadic tribes included.

            When he discussed Arona’s village with Fiona, Quintin had the vision of some dolphin-like creatures, but bright yellow. They are called golfindels and are mostly seen on the northern shores of Arona’s homeland, which is thus called Golfindely.

            #269

            Malvina had been busy opening doors for herself, and thus, for the All.

            Creating the sabulmantium with Leörmn had revealed new potentials to her. And just before putting the final touch to the device, she had felt engulfed in a huge wave and before she knew it, she was talking with someone. A great creative power, which was stemming from herself, and also from which she stemmed too.

            It had named itself Naasir.

            It had revealed to her, in the form of a dark abyss, myriads of unknown potentials waiting for her to leap in faith into them. It had gently requested that she release her hold on the caves openings, so that she could explore more, and also bring more to herself.

            Then Naasir took the form of a great dragon in that abyss, from which roots were growing and pushing their way, slowly and surely, into the rich soil towards the light of their fullness.

            She had then seen the dragon’s arched back and tail shift into a chain of spiked rocks, separating the worlds seas in two. Three of the scales on the right of the dragon’s skin were glimmering, and she could see they were looking for a passage.

            Would she allow that to happen? Yes, she wanted to. Open the doorways, and reunite what was separate, but gently, one at a time.

            Slowly, the kite-shaped rocky plates on the back of the dragon moved apart, to open a slight, safe passage for the glimmering scales. They were caught in the eddies that surged from the opening, but Malvina’s focus helped them to float and cross safely, as they wanted to.

            She then came back to herself, seated in front of the glass-shell dragon egg filled with coloured sand, awed with that power she had just felt through her. She knew it was her own power, and that the device had only allowed it to be expressed, but she had felt wary of how the sabulmantium could be used by others.

            At the same time, Leörmn who was once again the tiny weaszchilla trotting on the wooden table in front of her had laughed squeakingly. And looking at the toy in front of her, she had understood how it could only be used by those who would see beyond the thinly veiled surface. For the uncaring eye, this would only be a toy, mundane and without interest, but for the pure of heart, its help could be harnessed.

            That’s how she’d knew she did not need it any longer, and could release it.

            So, the doors had been opened, and people were feeling the new jewels sparkling behind the dark passages. And gifts from friends could now come across the veils.

            Malvina saw that during the last transmugrification, Leörmn had created an entrance near her laboratory, and it was as if it beckoned her now.

            When she entered, she saw a guéridon table in the middle of a moistly pungent room. On the table, a polished egg was here. She recognized it at once. It had an azure blue glow to it, and fond memories came back to her.

            Back then, she was a young Sorceress in training on the Island of Mörk, in the middle of the Icy Lands, the birth and dying place of the dragons.

            This egg was one from a set of three. It was the first glubolín she’d ever made, along with her two companions. They had kept it to communicate with each other when they parted.

            Malvina, the youngest of the three, had kept the azure blue, and chose to go to the Dragon Head Peninsula.

            Oörlaith had kept the mauve, and went near the town of Kapalÿka, on the Snimeÿa River delta bordering the Marshes of Doom.

            As for Roselÿn, the eldest of the three, she had taken the amber one, and had went as far as anyone would have dared go, flying on her spiked dragon Rëgkvist, past the Great Rift.

            They had kept in touch, but contacts had been more and more sporadic as each were discovering their own new environments, and had ceased altogether, almost at the same time.

            As far as she knew, Roselÿn had been starting her own rookery in the sandy ice deserts of Åsgurdy, mostly hiding there from the superstitious people of that land. And Oörlaith, whom she was closest to, had been devising another funny way to keep people away from her rookery. Her own dragon, the playful Andarión, was shape-shifting as a huge shrimp to pretend that the surroundings were haunted.

            Recalling all these moment, Malvina laughed at how silly they all were, and felt a long to be connecting again with her friends. Would anyone of them be around their own glubolíns?

            #265

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            Oh really, well it is great fun

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

            Fascinating she said, and Mandrake rolled his eyes.

            #261

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

            It said:

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

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

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

            :fleuron:

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

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

            :fleuron:

            The City, year 2255 (%)

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

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

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

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

            Then she opened her eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

            :fleuron2:

            Study on a Few Contradictory Beliefs

            1. GUILT

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

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

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

            2. FEAR

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

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

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

            DUPLICITY

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

            :fleuron:

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

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

            #257

            When Cuthbert came back to bed after having had his cup of cocoa, India Louise was awake too.

            — I saw him too, she said to her brother.
            — I don’t want to see him again, these books are scarey.
            — It’s intriguing, I want to know more, India Louise said, egging on him.
            — When I close my eyes, I got all these roots and webs crawling, it’s mad… I can’t…
            — He has found a friend to help him cross the Dark Forest to the traveling portal.
            — A friend?
            — Yes, a friend. She’s special.
            — Tell me more…
            — She’s a white unicorn, only him can see her.
            — Wow…
            — She’s named Mirÿnda. She’s glowing white, and he hears her speak in his mind, she shows him the way through the forest…

            :fleuron:

            — Mirÿnda?! A fool in saffron robe gallivanting in the forest with a unicorn now? That’s all you could find?

            Tina was taken aback…

            — Well, I could have used a grizzly bear too, now I think of it… Al answered flippantly.
            — Tsk tsk, replied Tina a bit annoyed. And why not a humpback whale, or an arctic lemming, or even… why, a leopard gecko for that matter?… And who’s that Mÿrinda anyway?

            :fleuron:

            — I don’t know any Amanda, Fiona said to Quintin that night. Don’t really know many of Michaela & Elias’ students. She’s Yann friend, right?

            Quintin had answered distractedly, as he was engrossed by his last painting…

            Later that night, he couldn’t find sleep, as the dragon he was painting was still expanding his web of roots and branches in his mind’s eye. He opened his computer to see that Malika was online.

            She told him something that night, something Quintin found abysmally profound and perplexing about his dragon…

            Dragons can shape shift, into anything they want to. There are several doorways/portals that they use for travel into this dimension. Malika said
            — Yes, said Quintin, this drawing has something to do with these portals initially, but I struggle a bit to represent them…
            Yes, so you can just depict it to be flowing, liquid-like energy in the center, when the portal is active.
            There are some that are being shone to me on the bottom of the ocean floor.
            What is being shown to me, is a dragon with a tail much like a mermaid, and hands with webs, big yellow eyes…

            Wow he had thought, she can really see.

            :fleuron:

            Jadra, guided by Mirÿnda, had been moving quite easily through the Dark Forest. Of course, he wouldn’t have dared touch the holy creature, and so he was walking hesitantly behind, taking care of where his bare feet were touching the ground.

            The Dark Forest was bordering the Marshes of Doom, and at times the limits between the two were almost indiscernible. It was said that every foul, err… fool… damn,…

            — Will you stop being so buffoonish! raved Tina again.
            — Perhaps I should let someone else continue then? said Albert.
            — Well, that’s entertaining, replied Becky mechanically.
            — OK. I’ll jump in, said Samuel, with a wide grin.

            It was said that every full moon, the Mighty Shrimp would come from the shores of the Southern Seas and haunt the Marshes in search for souls to be turned into krill, so that he could be the WALRUS (Wrathful Almighty Lord Ruler of Undersea Souls).

            Well, at least, that’s what Jadra had heard in his youth, when you tend to believe everything… So he was weary of the hiki-hiki sounds in the night that might have been the dreaded call of the Mighty Shrimp.

            :fleuron:

            Quintin was having a strange dream. He was a huge whale, along with another one he knew was Yann, swimming powerfully in the vast ocean, passing by strange creatures that could have been mermaids or improbable fishes, when his gaze was attracted by a stream of glittering particles of light.

            The lights were enticing, he would have said even “mouth-watering”, had he not had the baleens full of water already…

            :fleuron:

            Salome was moving through layers of consciousness, something humans focused in physical dimensions would have found difficult to grasp, as it was nothing that could be easily conceptualized. She was, as best as she could put, like a huge cloud of lightness coalescing into a form, when she decided to project her aspect.

            Taking form into a dimension required no effort in actuality, the consensus reality created by all the essences focused into the reality making quite a strong pull. She only needed to move her attention to what she wanted to manifest. Altering her reality slowly around her, to move closer to the desired effect.

            She was not only traveling through time and space, but also through multitudinous layers of dimensions unnoticed to many humans —in fact, she was not really moving, but that was a convenient way of telling things for humans…

            She said “humans”, because she was fond of this particular dimension, where she’d had lots of experiences.

            When moving through the dimensions, it had her projected focus of attention constantly and naturally adapt its form to the psychological environment.

            Here, she had just moved through a honey-drops dimension, where focuses were drops of golden honey-like substance, and as she moved through it, her own aspect had changed to that of a sand-glass shaped drop of honey.

            This was great fun for her to see the ease with which she could focus into this infinite variety of adventures, but for now, her pull was to some more complex physical dimensions.

            She started to move again, de-focusing, past the lazy honey drops.

            The honey drops were now shape-shifting to a whole immense field of snake-like strings of light, and they all started to converge to a direction. She knew the feeling. She followed the strong pull.

            #243
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              William Percival Jobsworth, or “Bill” for short, was finding the old creaking manor as freaky as their owners.

              The Wrick family was known around for being shrouded in mystery, and few people had actually been invited inside the manor, after its acquisition by Lord Wrick.

              The manor itself was full of ghost stories, as every mansion worth its salt in that part of the country. But this one has been a wreck on which he would not have invested two pence of his money, after it had been abandoned for many decades after the sudden death of the previous owner, the Crazy Baron.

              But Lord Wrick was an eccentric, and had bought the manor and restored it to its previous grandeur.

              It had been thrice now that Bill had come to the manor to paint the family portraits. The first time he had also delivered that strange parcel, given to him by that strange lady. Looking straight into his eyes, she had also told him something that had lingered in his mind quite vividly.

              « Suffering is not good for the soul, unless it teaches you to stop suffering. »

              He couldn’t see exactly why it applied to him, but the lady had seemed so authoritative about that, that he had agreed and felt like thanking her.

              The parcel had come a bit unexpected to the Lord, though he was quite artful in hiding his emotions, Bill could say. He had questioned him about the lady, but Bill had not dared to share with him the thing about the suffering. Actually the Lord looked in pretty good shape considering the age he was likely to be. He pretended to be a bit incapacitated, but Bill would have bet that if he had fallen from a window, he would have landed on his feet as a cat.

              Speaking of which, their old cat with its worn-out blackish fur was a bit freaky too. Bill had felt at times he could hear it answer the Lord’s gibberish.

              But all in all, that was easy money, and he thanked the opportunity to be able to do these paintings while the winter was coming.

              Now was something else. He almost startled when he was opened the big entrance door, to be revealed an improbable shape, two or three heads taller than him. It took him a short while to recognize the smile of the children’s nurse, topped by a funny hat that made him laugh heartily, after the initial shock was dissipated.

              Hahaha, sorry, that was unexpected… he managed to say to Jacqueline, who was not unaccustomed to these odd kinds of reactions.

              Not to worry she said with a slight French accent. Monsieur and Madame Wrick have come back from their trip to Mogadishu, and you will be able to have their portraits done. They will stay here for a few weeks…

              Linda and Peregrine Wrick were Cuthbert and India Louise proud (and a bit insouciant) parents, Lord Wrick had explained without much more details. Peregrine was the son of Lord Wrick’s only son, Sean Doran Wrick, but Bill had felt some restrain to ask about Sean Doran, as the Lord had seemed a bit umbrageous only speaking his name.

              Oh… said Bill who did not expect them to come back so quickly.

              Appendix: The Wrick family tree

              #221

              Bådul was pondering at the bow of his boat.

              His boat was not the largest his people had made, but it was all he had been afforded by the King of Åsgurdy, Swartulf II. Two others vassals who had been very impressed by Bådul’s delivery and determination had allotted him two other smaller ships.

              The ships were tailored for the high seas, and in many ways were not unlike what Quintin’s Viking ancestors would have called a snekkja , or a kind of dragon boat. The three ships had been sailing alongside, for more than forty days now, very easily through the Northern Seas.

              Bådul was pondering, because it had been twenty days more than any known explorer had been allowing themselves to go West (or East, for that matter), and his crew was manifesting some hints of doubts.

              He was pondering also, because for the glimpses of that route that he saw through the boy’s mind, he knew that he was heading towards some kind of passageway in between the Great Rift, a chain of sub-oceanic volcanic mountains, that were showing on the surface, and likely to be treacherous, and full of eddies. Jahiz, his faithful commander in second was a skilled mariner and Bådul knew he could trust him, at least for these sailing matters.

              A myna bird that Jahiz had brought with him was periodically sent as a scout in the vast seas in front of them, to report any trouble that may lay ahead.

              And now, as Badul was still pondering he had still not seen the damn foul-mouthed bird back, some seamen started to shout, as a black point was appearing in the midst of dark clouds.

              And finally, Rudy the myna (which was actually named Mercurius but that had been too long to pronounce for the rough crew) landed like a wet grenade at the feet of Badul howling “Mind your backs! Mind your backs!

              #143
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Dory yawned and stretched. She was wrapped in a lovely feeling, but as usual couldn’t recall any details of her dream. Lately though, she’d get a phrase, or a snapshot to give her a clue. The Dance of the Lemurs. How silly is that, she thought, whatever does it mean. She popped it into her Clue Box with all the other riddles and clues.

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