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  • #720

    As the bride and groom were exchanging the rings, Al was brought back a few weeks earlier, when Becky had announced the little group she and Sean would get married. The initial excitement gone, Tina, Sam and Al had been given the honor to organize that very special day, while Becky surely wouldn’t care to be bothered by such petty things.

    I think she’s already getting that distinguished snobbish style of the Wricks muttered Tina who was not so fond of being handed down these kinds of unprompted crottes.
    Al, who was probably thinking as much managed a Don’t be so hard on her, that’ll be a mighty fine wedding, after all, marrying a Wrick has its advantages, we don’t have to be measly on the expenditures
    Sam, a bit lost in circles, had acknowledged.

    Well, that had been fun after all, at least Al was thinking, he had not needed to deal with Becky’s own mood fluctuations. As the only Sumafi of the group, he had willingly taken care of the list of the guests, and all the catering orders, while Tina was taking care of the decoration (bride included), and Sam was arranging for the organization and rental of the places and hotels for the wedding and its slew of guests.

    Of course, as intimate Becky had first required the wedding to be, she had soon changed her mind, and had not resisted long the temptation to gather lots of people she had almost forgotten over the years.
    Al could almost see clear as day — now the weather had brighten up a bit — in his mind his notepad full of Becky’s recommendations:

    Becky’s family and friends
    Sam, Tina & Al (of course)
    Sabine Baina (mother) and Patel Mahapushtra, her new husband (a child’s toys mogul)
    Dan (father) and Dory (step-mother; might fear a trip to New Venice, you’ll have to use some extra coaxing with her)

    [long list of friends, snipped for reader’s comfort]

    Sean’s family and friends
    (mother deceased, father unwilling to come, pretexting his rheumatisms and not being able travel so far, but most likely unwilling to see Sean)
    Sean’s children, Perry and Guiny
    (aunt and cousin, Deirdre and Dorean Wrick) — Al’s update: they have unexpected guests coming back from Russia at their home, wonder if they could come? Becky: Sure!… Mmmm, Russia you said?

    Now, finding some great gift for someone as easily distracted as Becky, and as spoiled as Sean was another ball of wax…

    #717
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Becky, Becky, wake up… Lordy, she’s really in denial, you’re right sweet pea…
      We’ve got to rush now, all the people are already arrived now, and we’ve got to go to the civil ceremony now
      Yes, yes, we’ve got plenty of rice for you Becky
      What? Yes, I suppose she ate those mushrooms that were in the blue mud package. They were only supposed to be rehydrated and applied on the face, not eaten… Now she’ll be delirious for quite some hours…
      Peregrine, Guinevere, kids, yes, take that dress, and take good care of the bride herself, she’s not much on her two feet today…

      Al was doing his best to apply all the self-centering techniques he knew and not let things get awry now… Glad he had Tina to help, her practical senses sharp as ever.

      #1898
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        tjmarshall57: hahahaha as if it’s not bad enough with the weeding, now poor girl has blotches all over her face!
        tjmarshall57: wedding not weeding
        tjmarshall57: do russian wear velis?
        tjmarshall57: veils
        tjmarshall57: hhhm, blessing by a shaman, plaiting together of the couples hair….(is Becky still blad?)
        tjmarshall57: The biggest concern at the wedding is to have enough liquor. A Russian Wedding is an event where everybody must be drunk. No one will be surprised if people drink themselves to unconscious on the wedding – and many do.
        tjmarshall57: well, that will appeal to Sean
        tjmarshall57: You are probably surprised to find out that a Russian wedding lasts for 2 days!! (Well, at least. Some weddings last as long as a week, and this is something to be proud of and remember for years: it means the couple had enough liquor to go on and on, and enough devoted friends to stay.)
        tjmarshall57: The Russian church ceremony is colorful and solemn but the complete traditional ceremony is very long, and as guests and the couple have to stand during the ceremony (there are no benches in Russian churches at all; people must stand during all church services), faints are not rare.
        tjmarshall57: right, so a fair amount of fainting and drunkeness then
        tjmarshall57: Then the witnesses continue running the wedding, reading jokes and poems, and sometimes asking the new couple questions to make fun of them.
        tjmarshall57: Franci will you be my witness, you’d be perfect
        tjmarshall57: “Za molodykh!” (“For the newlywed!”)
        tjmarshall57: Traditionally money is considered as the best gift, and is given in an envelope. Some time after the beginning of the reception when people start to become drunk the witnesses will ask everybody to give their gifts and one of the witnesses will collect envelopes from the rest of the guests with a tray.
        tjmarshall57: Then people have time to dance. First dance is opened by the new couple. After the music starts, there is no exact script anymore, and witnesses can relax a little. They still occasionally announce a toast but do not entertain the guests with jokes and poems; guests by this time are already having lots of fun and are able to entertain themselves.

        Movements become quite hectic; some people go out “to refresh”, and at some moment in this movement the bride gets… “stolen”! She disappears, and when the groom starts looking for her, he is faced with a request for a ransom. Usually it’s his buddies who “steal” the bride. A more or less short wrangle about the amount, and he can have his new wife back. But he must watch out – the bride sometimes may be stolen a few times!

        tjmarshall57: right, so we have drunkeness, fainting, jokes, poems and insults, and theft and abduction
        tjmarshall57: Then there are the bride’s friends – they steal the bride’s shoe. The groom must pay ransom for the shoe too – the guests enjoy watching wrangles.
        tjmarshall57: Often guests leave the wedding in such a condition that they cannot remember what happened. If this was the case with the majority of guests, then the wedding was a huge success
        tjmarshall57: AHA! This is the key! I will write about it after the wedding, when nobody can remeber anything about it
        tjmarshall57: Day two of the wedding:After the meal the bride must “clean” the floor in the room. The fun part is that guests are allowed to mess as much as they want while she is cleaning
        tjmarshall57:
        tjmarshall57: another part for you!
        tjmarshall57: guests on a Russian wedding enjoy it much more than the newlywed couple who are all the time made fools of.
        tjmarshall57: The most popular period for wedding ceremonies in Russia was between the Christmas and Shrovetide (a week before the spring fast). This period was called the wedding period.
        tjmarshall57: well, the timing is right
        tjmarshall57: One of the many superstitions still prevailing among the peasant population of Russia is that, on the occasion of a marriage, the happiness of the newly-married couple is not assured unless the parents of the contracting parties are soaked with water from head to foot. When a marriage takes place in summer this is easily accomplished by ducking the fathers and mothers in the nearest river, but in winter they are laid on the ground and rolled in the snow.
        tjmarshall57: who are the parents?
        tjmarshall57: Among the Koraks of Siberia a young man seeks for a maiden with considerable dowry in the form of rein-deer
        tjmarshall57: oh, well we can have psychoactive reindeer pies, anyway
        tjmarshall57: Kovalevsky has well shown that many of the marriage customs of this country are survivals from a primitive and prehistoric age when the woman ruled the household and had more than one husband.
        tjmarshall57: hhmmmm
        tjmarshall57: it all points to a distant age when the matriarchal system prevailed, and the brother was his sister’s guardian. In Little Russia the brother’s sword is decked with the red berries of the rowan tree, red being the emblem of maidenhood.
        tjmarshall57: red fruit sync!
        tjmarshall57: no wonder I threw the cherries away!
        tjmarshall57: ahahahahha!
        franci_free: oh hrllo
        franci_free: goodness
        franci_free: will need to read back
        tjmarshall57: hahahah oh there you are
        franci_free: well what a complicated theme
        tjmarshall57: haahah well
        franci_free: you will have to write about the wedding
        tjmarshall57: the key to the whole thing is that everyone was so drunk that nobody can remeber any of it aftrwards
        franci_free: hahahah
        franci_free: great!
        tjmarshall57: thats my angle, I think
        franci_free:
        tjmarshall57: and s few things fit perfectly
        tjmarshall57: the red fruit
        tjmarshall57: the time of year
        tjmarshall57: the drunkeness, Sean will love that
        franci_free: the splotches?
        tjmarshall57: well, nobody will remeber that
        tjmarshall57: afterwards

        #710

        Tina could not help but wish the wedding was over, what with Becky’s strange illnesses and then all the indecision and fuss over the wedding dress. In the end, after quite some deliberation with Felicity, the Bridal Goddess, they had decided upon a Russian themed wedding. Tina could not believe that now, after all that planning, Becky seemed to be in denial that the wedding was even taking place!

        Is it today! she had screeched in a panic, when Tina called her first thing that morning.

        I can’t get married today Tina! I consulted with the Snoot yesterday.

        Tina sighed. She seemed to do an awful lot of sighing when talking to Becky.

        Calm down Becky, what exactly did the Snoot say? said Tina gently

        Well most of it I didn’t understand, something about I have created the splotches to be more allowing of my cleaning aspects, and to not be cleaning so much and to wash my hands more … and then he recommended some special green clay to improve my skin, to help those awful splotches I have been getting on my face … oh and he said no more mushrooms or red fruit. Well I don’t want to get married with my face looking like this Tina! Becky wailed despairingly. And the Snoot said it could take some time … but if I could let go of my crottes I would feel my inner vibration more freely … it was all a bit confusing to be honest Tina … and what are crottes anyway?

        #2112

        In reply to: Snooteries

        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          :yahoo_rofl:

          AHEM ……..

          Dear Cutie Snootie (I take it this is how you like to be addressed?)

          Thank you.

          Yes …… :face-plain:

          I am going to take my cleaning aspect to one side and tell it what you said. Free the flow of my back and neck! I will command it imperatively. Well, I think it was highly intuitive of you to know that THE KEY was my back and neck. You are fantastic Snoot. I FLOOOOOOOOVE and appreciate you and in doing thus I FLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE and appreciate myself also, and thus the whole of the world and even Mabel.

          I bought some red fruit today, I hope you are fully recovered.

          sincerely and anonymously
          A. N O N Y M O U S

          #1688

          In reply to: Synchronicity

          Jib
          Participant

            I was speaking about syncs with agent Flove…

            eschraiel: did you see the sync with the dog?
            franci_free: am just reading your synch
            eschraiel: haha :D
            franci_free: i was thinking i had noticed dogs a bit yesterday
            eschraiel: wow interesting
            franci_free: firstly a little poodle outside the supermarket, we sat next to it for a while and petted it
            franci_free: i would not usually do that
            eschraiel: hehehe what’s apoodle?
            franci_free: and someone showed me a photo of a HUGE dog they had taken
            franci_free: hang on
            franci_free: http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/littlebritain/images/gallery/poodle.jpg
            eschraiel: hahaha I got that :p http://www.cloggie.org/pictures/proggold/web_Alpaca%20Poodle.JPG
            eschraiel: it’s like a lama :p
            franci_free: oh wow
            eschraiel: yours is cuter ;))
            franci_free: well that is a llama synch too then
            eschraiel: really?
            franci_free: because yesterday i thought “my goodness what a lot of llamas i am hearing about” and ther is one across the road too
            franci_free: with the circus
            eschraiel: http://www.cloggie.org/proggold/2007/12/07/note-to-googlers-its-not-a-bloody-poodle/
            eschraiel: again a hoax apparently :p
            franci_free: ahahahaha
            eschraiel: I’m having a lot of hoax :-?
            eschraiel: is that a clue?
            eschraiel: it’s fun hoax though

            And so we decided to create a detective agency specialized in hoacsynchs… agent Flove and me as the Snoot

            Well Eric just told me that hoax is an ox so we can find a bluebull clue :-?
            We are specialized in blueOx!!!

            #702

            There was a tantalizing scent of wildflowers and meadowgrass in the still cool air of the cave, and as Sanso rounded a bend in tunnel a gentle breeze ruffled the folds of his robes. He quickened his pace, gladdened by the welcome promise of an adventure outside of the endless labyrinth. The air felt cool and warm at the same time, and deliciously fresh and clean as it wafted towards him, and with a feeling of immense joy, he heard a snatch of birdsong.

            It seemed like many long years that he’d been trudging around in the gloom and the stale air of the caves, although he suspected it wasn’t as long as that. Time played tricks on him, he knew that, while he was wandering around in the darkness. He’d missed Arona, and that strange baby, when he’d first set off alone again, but not for long. He knew when it was time to move on, and so he’d left them. From time to time he wondered if he’d encounter them again, and knew he would.

            A shaft of sunlight spilled into the tunnel and Sanso stepped out into the light. The breeze was fluttering the birch leaves high above him, as he squinted up at the pale blue sky. Grinning happily, Sanso took his time adjusting to the light. He sat cross legged on the soft green grass, feeling it springy beneath his hands. Hundreds and thousands of red and yellow spotted toadstools stretched out as far as he could see, carpeting the forrest floor with polkadots of colour.

            Sanso looked down at his hands. The creases of his skin and under his nails were engrained with reddish dust, and he wanted water more than anything, gurgling bubbling fresh clean water. He stood up, and shook his robes a bit, and set off into the woods.

            Intuition told him which way to go to find water. He marvelled at tiny flowers, and scampering insects along the way, squashing fungi beneath his bare feet which oozed up through his toes with little squeaky noises.

            A rabbit ran accross his path and stopped momentarily to stare at him and Sanso laughed out loud.

            Oh! Who’s there?

            A girl in bright flowered skirts was sitting on the grass in a clearing just ahead, rubbing her eyes.

            Whoa, I must be dreaming, she said, and rubbed her eyes again. She peered at the apparition in indigo robes, with skin the colour of tobacco and wild matted hair. Am I dreaming? she asked Sanso.

            Perhaps, perhaps not, replied Sanso, who wasn’t really sure. I may be dreaming myself. My name is Sanso, anyway, what’s yours?

            Zhana, the girl replied, Well, Uncle Grishenka calls me Zhanochka, but I…but I….I hate him, and I’m not going back! And much to her surprise, she burst into tears.

            Sanso was momentarily non-plussed, and wondered what to do next.

            Well, dear, if you don’t want to go back, why, then don’t go back! He wasn’t quite sure what the problem was; after all, he’d been wandering for so many years on impulse and whim he hardly knew any other way to go about it.

            I don’t know where to go instead though, Zhana said tearfully. The long dark cold will be here again soon, and I must have shelter somewhere…..who will have me, besides Uncle Grishenka?

            What long dark cold? asked Sanso. It seemed light enough and warm enough here.

            Oh, my! Zhana was astonished. You ask me what long dark cold? Where have you come from? How is it you don’t know of the long dark cold? Oh! Are you from Nishanti’s place?

            Zhana stood up in some considerable excitement. Can you take me to Nishanti’s place? Oh please say yes!

            Well, I, er, um…..well, I suppose so. Well, yes! Sanso didn’t want to let the girl down, although he wasn’t altogether sure he knew where Nishanti’s place was. But he was game to give it a try, and the company of the girl would be a welcome change.

            Tell me about Nishanti, then, Zhana, and what her place is like. Sanso was hoping a few clues might ring a bell, perhaps.

            Nishanti has been my friend for as long as I can remember, Zhana said. We dream together mostly, well, Zhana blushed, Uncle Grishenka says it’s all in my head…he say’s it’s nonsense….

            Zhana squared her shoulders and carried on. Sanso had a kind look, and nodded encouragingly.

            She hardly wears any clothes, and her skin is warm and brown. The sun always shines and the sky is always deep blue in her place and we play outside all year long. There’s always warm ripe fruits to eat, not turnips and noodles, colourful juicy berries and plump pink fishy things, and there are flowers all year long, and the water isn’t frozen, we can play in the water and it doesn’t turn our hands blue…..

            Ah, the other side of the world…hhhmmm…..Sanso rubbed his whiskery chin thoughtfully.

            Ok, I can’t promise we can find Nishanti, but I think we can find the other side of the world. But first, I’d like to find some water, and perhaps a little fresh food?

            Zhana whooped with delight, and flung her arms around Sanso. Yes, yes!

            #701

            I must be talking to an angel Yurick thought, as he was feeling the presence of the lady he had seen in his dreams a few times before. Her presence was remarkably soft, yet, she was unmistakably here, like a loving sisterly figure. Yurick could see at times streaks of a shimmering blue-green halo when he was thinking of her, and this morning, walking in the underground corridors, as he was humming and thinking of this angel, his gaze landed on a movie poster, with beautiful women profiles. None of these profiles had attracted his gaze at first, but a name. Salomé.
            Then only, the poster slowly began to unfold itself into focus around that name…
            The women were beautiful and seemed to be like beams of a multitude of variations from a single energy essence, like some traditional Avalokiteshvara (Kuan Yin) representations.
            The title of that movie was “Les Femmes de l’Ombre” (Women of the Shadow), and that “Salomé” he had seen was the name of the director… How interesting symbolic information…

            While she reminded him not of the Salomé of Wilde’s play, but of another biblical figure, the Salomé of the New Testament, follower of the Christ, and likely sister of Mary, Yurick decided he would call that gentle feminine presence “Salomé”…
            A woman of the Shadow. For now…

            #691

            So tell us about Russia, Elvira, Fleur asked the rather formidably silent old woman. What was it like?

            Elvira raised an eyebrow, and then frowned. Well, I…..quite honestly I don’t remember much about it. She sighed deeply and her shoulders sagged.

            Well, did you take any photos? pressed Fleur. Did you bring any souvenirs back?

            Oh, I…..yes, I have some photos……

            Elvira rummaged in her oversized carpet bag and pulled out a manila envelope, tattered along the edges. She passed it to Fleur.

            #690

            Sitting at her desk, Alana couldn’t focus on the document she was reading. A report from one of her companies. She could feel the energy of that French guy Langlade. He was sent by the Baron, and she knew he was dangerous. She was expecting him this morning, and it was almost 5pm. Well she was a bit overwhelmed because of what was at stake. She couldn’t allow him to take it. She couldn’t allow the Baron to use it. And she couldn’t destroy it either.

            For the moment the crystal skull wasn’t here. She was aware that Langlade knew it. Though it was not for the reason he could imagine. And she wouldn’t reveal it to him… freely.

            She called Mr Isashi. She couldn’t put it off eternally.

            — Allow him in, Mr Isashi. Though take your time.

            — Very well, Aunt.

            — Is Harry here?

            — Not yet, Aunt. Do you want me to summon him?

            — No. Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t show up.

            He looked at her furtively, and she smiled back at him. Her fear well hidden under a dose of confidence. She would never allow it to happen.

            :fleuron:

            Robert was waiting in the living room. He was lounging on a golden couch when the man came back and told him she would receive him. At last…

            Well he was not in a hurry. He was patient, and so was the Baron… for now. And apparently he was to need a lot of patience.
            The pace of the Japanese boy was slow, and he wouldn’t allow him to speed up. Apparently she was nervous and wanted him to feel so.

            The corridor was well lit. Richly decorated with paintings or statues.
            He had to admit she had a refined taste.

            They stopped before a yellow door. The boy knocked 3 times and Robert could hear that the wood was very heavy. As he opened the door, they could hear a masculine voice.

            — You may need my skills.

            :fleuron:

            — Who are you? said Alana. And how did you get here?

            #689
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              These are MY eggs! Nobody touches my eggs!
              Oh come on, you’re not gonna make these ostrich eggs hatch Cathy… Better have them made into a nice big omelet for our guests… Fleur said with a tentative smile.
              And why use MY eggs for that?! Moooom, she’s trying to steal my eggs…

              What’s with all that fuss here? a coarse, yet sensual female voice said in the background of the kitchen.
              Mom, she wants to make an omelet with the eggs that granddad gave me…
              Calm down Catherine, will you… Is that true Fleur?
              Err… Madam Wrick, I suppose it was only a stupid joke… Thing is that wasn’t such a bad idea… There will be quite a few guests tonight, and… she began to falter as the eyebrows of Dorean Wrick were taking a more severe look. Err… I’m sorry, M’am, I’ll send Raster fetch some food for a nice meat pie, will it be nice?
              Perfect. That settles the matter then… Catherine, go back to your room, and let Fleur work. I’ll send you a maid to help you be prepared for our guests arrival.
              Yes, Mum.

              What a silly idea Theobald, her father have had, to give her step-daughter those eggs for her birthday… Big funny green eggs. He’d said they were ostrich eggs, but there were no ostrich in Mexico, as far as she knew. Of course, now the little girl’s only idea was to have the birds hatch and to mount them and ride in the slopes of Ireland.
              This family was definitely insane, Dorean was thinking.
              At least, she had thought her own branch of the family tree had been spared by the folly of her relatives and their attraction for occult and intangible things, but with that odd gift, it seemed to her more than likely that her father had followed the steps of his wricked brother… Or perhaps it was only an old man’s way of passing time. But knowing her father down-to-earth nature, that was not like him. He didn’t do things out of a whim, and there was probably more than met the eye having to do with the funny eggs…

              A few days ago, shortly after New Year’s eve and stepping into year 2034, she’d had received an unexpected parcel from her cousin, Sean Doran. A couple of wrapped books, he was asking her to keep in store for him. She always had liked her cousin, though they had only met two or three times when they were children. Thing was, family matters were more a wrickage than anything else, and they had barely kept in touch over the years.
              She had distractedly opened the big ornate leather-bound books only to discover they were blank. What was the purpose of all of this, she didn’t know. But unlike most people, Dorean wasn’t interested in others’ businesses. She would keep the books, whatever they meant.

              And she had more pressing matters now.
              Her guest were coming. Elvira and her demented husband were moving back, and were due to arrive tonight after a rather long expatriation in the lands of Russia. Having met that strange and impressive individual, the perspective of getting away in a foreign land leaving all the past behind, all of this had most probably saved Elvira from her depressive mood…
              But she had been so isolated from her past that Dorean suspected that these almost thirty years abroad would have changed her profoundly.

              #685

              Dory was bored. She didn’t really know whether to be Dory, or Becky, or even Illi today. Maybe I will be someone new, she thought. Hmmm……

              Elvira, how about that. Well, Elvira was just as bored as Elvira as she would have been as Dory, Becky or anyone else for that matter. What happens when the inspiration goes? Where does it go? One minute the world is full of interesting things, and then Poof! nothing is very interesting at all……

              Elvira had lots of interesting things to do, she had many books, and various artistic projects half started or not even started, just thought about on and off for ages, and she had puppies to play with, and a big drawer full of pens and things to draw with. She had a camera that took little videos that was often a lot of fun…but nothing seemed worth the trouble today, nothing at all…..not even that silly wacom thing, and after all that fuss to buy it, too…it was more fun talking about buying it then the darn thing ever was afterwards…..

              The Internet, how could anyone be bored with an internet! There must be something seriously wrong with her to be bored when she had Internet! But she halfheartedly googled this, googled that…ho hum, tedium, nothing very interesting there….

              Well, what about your imagination then! Elvira sat up a bit straighter, challenging herself. You can surely do something interesting in your imagination, can’t you?

              She slumped back down again, and sighed. Like what? Well, imagine you are out in the sun, going for a walk…..

              Well ok, then, I am on the beach. At first I feel the sun on the top of my head and I squint at the bright sparkles on the sea. Then, my ears are ringing with cold, it’s a windy cold day after all and not much fun on the beach at all. Oh pull yourself together, woman! Pull your scarf round your ears! It’s a great day for driftwood, just look at those waves rolling in.

              I am trudging along, and the sand is hard to walk on and makes my legs ache. My God, I am out of shape! There are soggy oranges and piles of bamboo sticks, and plastic bottles all washed up in curving heaps. A soggy Marlboro carton; my, are they still smuggling fags from Gibraltar, I am so out of the smuggling loop these days….

              Well, was that it? Elvira chastised herself. Not much of a flight of imagination there, was it? Maybe a walk along the river instead…..

              Oh alright, if I have to…..actually I can’t be bothered to do this imaginary walk either, it’s no use….nothing is really very interesting today. I would like someone to amuse me, charmingly, pointlessly, something funny and light, and delightfully meaningless and simple…..

              And god forbid, nothing to do with beliefs, please! Or any of that weird stuff, like other lives and other dimensions, and talking to aliens and all that weirdo stuff….weirdo, weirdo, stuff! UGGHHH Elvira shuddered.

              Well, one thing I am pleased about, she mused almost happily, I can smoke again now my lungs are behaving. I thought I would be gloriously happy forever if I could only breathe without fear, and already I am Ho Hum about breathing….thought for sure I’d remember to focus on every brilliantly wonderful NOW moment, I did, after that fright with the lungs, but no….back to normal, well, worse than normal really, because now I am not even interested in anything……

              I wonder if I should start drinking again…..Oh don’t be silly, Elvira told herself rather sharply. Well, drugs then, maybe that would buck me up. It’d buck you up alright, but for how long? Well when they wore off, I could take some more.

              Yeah, right…..

              Elvira sighed again. Even Bertie Wooster hadn’t even managed to raise a smile this time, and he always used to make her smile. Reading Wodehouse now made her frown, wondering what ever she had used to find so amusing……

              The birds are making a racket out there, she noticed. Whatever do they find to sing about all day? Chirp chirp…jeeze….. maybe I should take up golf, she wondered. Dan seems to always have an interest, something passionately all-consuming……he never has enough hours in the day for all HIS interesting things….

              Where have all my interesting things GONE?

              #683

              The landscape had become oddly unfamiliar to Franiel. He had walked this path to the Village at the foot of the mountains maybe a half a dozen times, yet he felt certain he had never before seen these surroundings. He had never seen this patch of bright yellow flowers with their golden centers, nor this gnarled tree whose branches dropped down over the path causing Franiel to stoop in order to pass by. He stopped, hesitating, should he return the way he had come, find where he had left the path? Yet even while his mind was telling him what he was seeing should not be, he knew in his heart that he had taken no wrong turning. He touched the trunk of the old tree, and asking for wisdom, felt it’s reassuring energy calm his anxiety. The way ahead, though unexpected, felt friendly.

              As fate would have it he had not journeyed much further when he spied a fellow traveler coming towards him on the path ahead, a small figure swathed in colourful robes, wild and dishevelled locks of hair protruding exuberantly from beneath his brown leather cap.

              Greetings Fellow Traveler, cried out Franiel as he drew nearer, My name is Franiel. I am travelling from the Monastery of Margilonia to the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon, and foolishly I appear to have mislaid my way.

              The stranger chuckled merrily. Greetings Franiel, Indeed If that is your destination then I fear perhaps you are more lost than you care to admit. He motioned towards the grassy bank at the side of the path. Perhaps we might sit awhile and talk, for I know that I for one, could do with a rest and bite to eat.

              A splendid idea, replied Franiel, sensing magic in the stranger and enjoying immensely the unexpected diversion.

              So my friend you are a long way from the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon.

              Am I indeed? mused Franiel, How could that be, for that was where I was heading, and as far as I know I did not step from the path, and yet here I am.

              The stranger chuckled again, and his laughter was so infectious that Franiel joined in, not really being able to identify the source of the amusement, yet feeling all the better for it.

              And how important is it that you get to the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon?

              I am on a mission from Aum Geog, the newly appointed Abbot, replied Franiel, as he pulled out the chalice from his pack, to have this cup inscribed.

              The stranger reached out for the chalice, and studied it intently for a few moments. He took some of the water from his own water bottle and poured it into the chalice. Muttering a few words which Franiel did not recognise, the stranger closed his eyes and held the cup up as though offering it to the Gods. After a few moments he took a sip from the chalice. A look of delight crossed his face, As I thought! he chuckled.

              Now drink, my friend, he said offering the chalice back to Franiel.

              This is the sweetest Nectar you carry in your bottle ! Franiel exclaimed in surprise after taking some sips.

              The stranger chortled, It was plain water from the river I passed on my travels. I gather from your surprise that you do not know the magic of this chalice?

              Franiel shook his head. Well to be honest I have not really given the chalice much consideration, only to briefly wonder at my task. My mind has been more occupied with other matters. Franiel looked at the chalice in his hands, And what more can you tell me of this magic?

              I can caution you to be wary my friend, I would not be so quick to show strangers you meet on your path this cup, for be assured there would be some who would be keen to possess this. He frowned for a moment. What are the words which are to be inscribed on this chalice?

              Franiel pulled the sealed letter from his pack, and, feeling only a moment’s hesitation, opened it; “Bibere venenum in argento”, he read haltingly, then shrugged. I confess I don’t know what that means, I have not been taught in the old language.

              It is a curse of the Ancients, it means “drink poison from a cup of silver”. Seeing the puzzled look on Franiel’s face the stranger went on to explain. The magic of the chalice is to transform. I uttered words of love and the water transformed to sweet nectar. Had I whipered words of hate and fear, had my intention been to kill, I could have changed the water to bitter poison. The power though is not in the chalice, it is in the intention of the one who holds it and who knows of it’s magic.

              Franiel shook his head, bewildered, I can find no sense in this. Why would Aum Geog curse the cup in this way?

              The stranger turned and looked at Franiel, his clear blue gaze piercing and direct, I don’t know this Aum Geog, neither do I know his heart …. I know that you are the bearer of the cup now Franiel. Make sure you are asking the right questions.

              #681
              ÉricÉric
              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…

                #1664

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                Jib
                Participant

                  haha the circus is funny, I was looking for unnoticed synchs on the website but couldn’t find any :p
                  Take pictures when you go ;;)

                  #1945
                  Jib
                  Participant

                    Yann was passing by, and had a chat with Finn yesterday evening… part of it was about his ex moving in a new apartment and taking his internet connection with him… that would have left Yurick and him without internet for an unknown length of time.

                    Finn and Yann had spent a few minutes chatting about that, and Finn was trying to find a solution so Yann wouldn’t miss the Tobidoo show on Saturday… well she eventually told him he would create an unexpected twist of the situation and create a solution (btw it is 11:53 when Yann is writing this entry)…

                    Yann received a mail from his ex this morning and it was about this very connection… he would leave the connection and change provider, so Yann can keep it and change all the informations of the account… and even ask for this new cool internet modem called the Freebox HD V5… what a name, he thought.

                    Well all that would be possible. No gap in the connection to the world then.

                    :yahoo_big_hug:

                    Simplicity 123 ;)

                    #1656

                    In reply to: Synchronicity

                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      that transparent frog is very interesting. I hadn’t really taken in before how many fascinating and weirdo species of frogs there are.

                      #1653

                      In reply to: Synchronicity

                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        Tracy is making the most of not being able to post and asked me to post some synchs for her:

                        Tracy: thanks for posting the comments!
                        Francie: okay, i will do that other one
                        Francie: you love it eh?
                        Francie: it appeals your head counterpart side
                        Tracy: lobe what?
                        Francie: making me post for you
                        Tracy: hahahaha yeah its like having staff

                        :fleuron:

                        Francie: i took george to vet today for check up
                        Tracy: hows he doing?
                        Francie: well while we were all discussing vaccinations, he nosed open the door and went careering around the vets
                        Tracy: hahahaha
                        Francie: down to visit all the sick dogs. Like a crazy thing
                        Tracy: oh how funny. Oh I bet they all loved it
                        Francie: oh yes hilarious
                        Tracy: I kept thinking today that any distraction, was taking Bills mind off the pain
                        Francie: yeah
                        Tracy: and so was George!
                        Francie: ahahahahha
                        Tracy: ahhaah I synced with george!
                        Francie: hahahah!
                        Francie: yes
                        Tracy: would you write that in syncs under my name please
                        Francie: okay

                        :fleuron:

                        Francie: what does a jewel on the forehead signify?
                        Tracy: A flock of coots is known in the US as a cover
                        Tracy: um, not sure, like an Indian thing?
                        Tracy: why?
                        Francie: some of my frogs had jewels on their foreheads, and then i watched a movie with jewels on foreheads
                        Tracy: is it a Sikh thing? Or is it the chakra
                        Francie: don’t know
                        Tracy: which chakra is that or is it the third eye… What colour jewels?
                        Francie: tarotteachings blogspot
                        Tracy: ralphmag
                        Francie: there is another 8 synch in that tarot one
                        Francie: oh wow, a magazine synch Tracy
                        Tracy: she understands, with a profound and inherent wisdom, that the universe is a magical and abundant place.
                        Tracy: thats cool huh… What?
                        Francie: the link you gave me: read the last paragraph
                        Tracy: I was thinking about the magazine yesterday… WOW F, the last paragraph!
                        Francie: yes!
                        Tracy: would you post it on syncs for me?
                        Francie: yes
                        Tracy: please
                        Tracy: I missed that bit, I just noticed the ittiel
                        Tracy: tille
                        Tracy: title

                        #1882
                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          Tracy: there is no righteously indignant icon
                          Francie: yes, well if there were, i would use it!
                          Tracy: I meant all
                          Tracy: slip of the tongue
                          Francie: oh well thats alright then, i am mollified
                          Tracy: hahahahhahahahahahahha
                          Tracy: maniacally
                          Tracy: maybe I should change my name
                          Francie: hahaah what to?
                          Francie: molly, molly fried
                          Tracy: Molly Baloney
                          Francie: mollocks
                          Francie: yes! do it
                          Tracy: hahaha no
                          Francie: no well seriously, what to?
                          Tracy: I will be Molly Maloney and you be Betty Mollocks
                          Francie: ahahhhaha
                          Francie: doubt it
                          Tracy: Baloney
                          Tracy: not Maloney
                          Francie: oh no i feel a new character coming on
                          Francie: oh its okay, you can’t get in
                          Francie: :yahoo_whew:
                          Tracy: hahah would you please introduce them into the story under my name
                          Francie: thats why!
                          Tracy: Molly Boloney and Betty Mollocks
                          Francie: you will just have to save it up
                          Tracy: well I might forget it, just make a note of it for me, as if you were Becky jotting down a clue
                          Francie: okay i will post it in random ramblings okay
                          Tracy: ok, just paste this part of the chat as a comment
                          Francie: hang on i will do it now
                          Tracy: no, this chat part in story
                          Francie: no i refuse
                          Tracy: thank you dearest Franci. You may print that too
                          Francie: I will do it in ramblings or nothing
                          Tracy: ok
                          Francie: take your pick
                          Tracy: thanks
                          Francie: ahahahahaha
                          Tracy: ramblings
                          Francie: okay hang on
                          Tracy: you have got me by the balls, thats why
                          Francie: it is quite rambly, i think it goes rather well
                          Tracy: yes, you are right as usual
                          Francie: where shall i do it to and from?
                          Tracy: um
                          Tracy: start there up til here
                          Tracy: right here

                          #676

                          A hotel room in New Venice, January 2034

                          Sean had agreed reluctantly.
                          As his father Lord Wrick had been aware for some time, Sean had been heavily drinking following the death of Margaret, and though he could still speak with her, he had a hard time not to take her as an illusion from his guilty mind.
                          So, wary of the impacts on his grand-children, Guinevere and Peregrine, Hilarion Wrick had demanded him to personally take care of their education, and have them move with him. The year before, he had acquired an old mansion in the Orkney Islands, in a healthy location far from the buzz of towns, and was in the process of having it restored. Its previous owner, Baron O’Dolly seemed to have disappeared and Lord Wrick had seized the occasion, as there was a nice big area of land around the place. Restoration would soon be over, he’d said, and he was wishing the children would move in the next spring.

                          Of course, Sean had known that his father’s proposal was no mere proposal. With the wealth and lawyers he had at his disposal, even if he would have to wait years, he could get what he was wanting. Even if he was to crush everything in the process. So he had agreed.

                          Why do you feel sorry? You are no fit to raise children, and Becky is certainly no better than you… the ghost of Margaret was saying
                          You know what it is, I feel so inadequate… What will my children remember of me?
                          Don’t be stupid, they love you… And I’ll talk to them… On the contrary, loving the old bat won’t be as easy for them

                          This almost brought up a smile on Sean’s face.

                          Yes, you’re right, and you are right for Becky and I… Perhaps we’ll have children, but for now, I suppose we want to enjoy being together, and take a deep bracing breath.
                          Then stop being so gloomy and go call her. Perhaps you even want to start looking for an apartment in New Venice for both of you, to make her a big nice surprise for your wedding. She didn’t seem so fond of the idea of staying in Dublin for extended periods of time.
                          Yes! And I’ll book our honey moon too… She wants to see so many places I suppose I’ll have to book a cruise over the world. And perhaps get tickets for the first trip in the cross-oceanic tunnel… Thank you Margaret, I’m so full of projects…
                          Why, thank YOU, she said with a bwink (a simultaneous blinking and winking, in ghost’s jargon).

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