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  • #291
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Oh yes, it is all perfect, interjected Tina, in her new soft and gentle voice. Thank you so much for helping me to understand.

      AHAHAHAAHAH, laughed Becky, nearly snorting, Tina are you okay today?

      Well no actually, my head has been pounding for the last 24 hours. I think I have been taken over by those pesky aliens again. They tell me that the only way to get rid of them is to revert back to my own true self.

      Hope you do it soon muttered Becky, all this niceness is quite unnerving.

      #85
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Eric! Your latest comment resembles more than a little the episode of Lost I saw on tv last night. I take it you didn’t watch it too haha…..
        In a nutshell, an exhausted bird on the shore next to the sea that had separated from the other birds (which were scared off by a loud gunshot nearby)…..the guy intuitively knew exactly where to go to find it (he can see future probabilities, incidentally) and he picked the bird up…the point of which was to tie a message to the tagged bird in the hopes of being rescued off the desert island (which is not unlike the one Roselyn Chiara and Illi are ‘currently’ on….)…
        In other words, a ‘talking’ bird….
        OH and the bird in Lost was ‘from other lands’ too, a tagged migrating bird….

        #288

        Tomkin had a keen eye, and despite the dazzling light reflected on the calm glittering surface of the sea, he could see a little dark shape detaching itself from the three bigger forms, and that little dark shape was quickly identifiable as a bird.
        Apparently the bird was not from these lands, it was black with white strips, or perhaps the contrary, and was flying like a grake drunk of having gorged on overripe Scotch bonnets.
        Obviously the bird was exhausted, and crashed on the shore where it was nearly knocked out by the grogonuts which fell with big *thuds* from the grogonut tree on which it had just finished its erratic course.

        Seeing the whole scene from the top of the fatly mossy cliff, Tomkin decided his curiosity was a much more pressing matter than taking care of the herd of grakes, so he ran to the little rocky path which led to the beach below.

        Apparently the bird was still alive, and more surprising even, that was a talking bird. It could speak strange words.
        And even stranger, though Tomkin knew none of these words, he could understand all of what the bird wanted to communicate to him.

        What an odd thing, he wondered… The bird was requesting some food apparently.
        Tomkin fumbled in his pocket for some bread crumbs, when the gift of the Captain fell on the sand.
        Could it be?

        Tomkin’s heart was racing. Could it be that there was magic after all in this strange simple gift? The Captain had said it meant all was connected. That could explain why he could understand that foreign bird… And perhaps it worked on other talking creatures and people too…
        A whole realm of potentials seemed to open in front of young dreamy Tomkin, who was quickly brought down to more earthly matter when Rudy the myna pricked his hand with its beck for the bread crumbs, projecting to him “Give it to me! Give it to me!”.

        #282

        — The legend of Mævel — (Part I)

        as told by Cpt Bone to young Tomkin

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

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

        So became Theÿa Queen of the Fairies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

        #1473
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          :notepad: Seems there is an issue when you take too long to write a comment, the system thinks you are not signed in any longer.
          Will see what I can do.

          In the meantime, if that happens, just copy your comment from the comment box, and then reload the page, and paste/post it back… Sorry for any inconvenience…

          [EDIT] I’ve changed something in the configuration of the cookies, perhaps that’ll help. Might be a good thing to clear your cookies in your browser too, just in case…

          #279

          Once Illi had realized she was dead and could ‘go’ anywhere she liked simply by creating the ‘place’ around her, she decided to take a long relaxing holiday on a deserted tropical island. She would float in the warm lagoon, feast on coconuts and pina coladas and mangoes, play with the dancing lemurs and build fantastic sand castles on the beaches. As she visualized it, it appeared as if by magic all around her…the sun warm on her head, the sand between her toes, the gentle breeze fragrant with exotic blooms and the sound of gossiping parrots filled her senses. She closed her eyes and flung her arms wide in appreciation for the physical joys she had recreated, breathed deeply and relaxed for the first time since she had died. Finally, she felt like she knew where she was, even if that ‘somewhere’ was as ‘nowhere’ as ‘anywhere’ else, just another ‘elsewhere’ really…..

          Illi stretched out on her back on the golden sand and squinted up at the cloudless deep blue sky. How nice, she thought, not to have any aches and pains, not to have to worry about shifting and those bloody belief systems, how simply lovely to just BE, with no perceived responsibilities, no interruptions…

          Just then out of the corner of her eye, Illi saw movement in the sky. Something was descending onto the island. Illi couldn’t make out what it was, and wished she had a pair of binoculars. Silly Illi, she said to herself, reaching for the binoculars that had appeared beside her. I keep forgetting I can create anything at all.

          Holy Moly! A great fat roly poly nun with a huge jolly grin was wafting down from the heavens, with an irridescent turquoise fairy in tow. They were landing on her island! We’ll see about that! Illi jumped to her feet and stomped off the beach and into the mangroves, sloshing angrily through the watery roots….. until she realized she could hover above the ground, which was a much easier way to travel.

          Hovering was much quieter too, and the jolly fat nun and the bluegreen fairy were quite unaware that Illi was peering at them from behind a peachy hibiscus bush. In fact, the blooms on the hibiscus had grown to a most ridiculous size, and Illi could hardly see past them. She hovered to the side a bit, and decided on impulse to make her presence known to the intruders.

          BOUH! :yahoo_skull:

          #1466
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Two little things of an assistance required nature, totally not urgent:

            How do you make the blue block quote thingy?
            When I do a search, it does not take me to the highlighted extract, but to the beginning of the story, for some reason.:yahoo_shame_on_you:

            Thank you :yahoo_star:

            #277
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              You are very fat, said Chiara to Roselyn

              And she laughed. Yes, I am

              My Nana is fat, but not as fat as you.

              Roselyn seemed to consider this for a moment, and then laughed again. Would you like to go on an adventure with me?

              Chiara was not quite sure. An adventure sounded quite fun, however she had some beliefs you were not supposed to go off with strangers, however nice they may seem. But Roselyn did seem familiar to her.

              Where would we go?

              We would fly to Fairy Land, replied Roselyn

              This offer was way too tempting for Chiara to decline

              Oh yes!

              Take my hand then, and close your eyes tightly.

              Next thing they were flying through the air. Chiara loved the feeling of flying, she often went flying in her dreams. She giggled with delight as Roselyn, no longer seeming to be impeded by her fat body, effortlessly did flips and twirls in the air.

              The colour of the world around them changed, the blue sky became all the shades of the rainbow. Down below, Chiara could see an island in the middle of the sea, which sparkled like broken glass in a kaleidoscope of shifting colours.

              Roselyn guided them gently down to the island.

              Chiara gazed around, speechless with wonder and delight and then nearly jumped out of her skin as a loud voice behind her shouted “BOUH!”

              ******

              NB: What is Fairy Land like? Well, if you like gigantic flowers, bright colours, and the possibility of unexpected magical happenings, you would probably quite enjoy it. There is loads of spontaneous singing and dancing which can be a little unnerving at first for the uninitiated. You have to be prepared to go with the flow in Fairy Land because the creatures that live there don’t have the same rules as those that come from the “real world” (whatever that is), and many of them tend to be quite mischievous.

              #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.

                  #273

                  On the shores of Golfindely, a young boy was playing in the carmine fields of ripe Scotch bonnets.

                  Since the captain Bone had left, Tomkin Sharple was feeling a bit sad.

                  The old captain always had fascinating stories to tell him, and he would indulge the endlessly curious little boy in telling him for hours all about what he had discovered in all the parts of the Worlds he had been traveling to.

                  Now, all he had to do was to take care of the herd of grakes of his parents, and while they were eating the weeds of the crops, he would sat on the cliff, looking at the sea, glimmering in the sunlight.

                  Grakes were funny to play with, as they were big birds, with a slender neck as geese, colourful patterns as mandarin ducks, and Tomkin always had fun jumping on the back of the alpha one, and ride it, leading the whole herd to the crops where they helped the farmers by eating all kinds of nuisances.

                  But after Captain Bone’s departure, it was no longer fun.

                  Tomkin was contemplating a strange thing that the captain had given him before he’d left. It was a sort of knot, shaped as a eight, and the captain had told him it was magic and meant that all was connected, but that he had to discover that magic for himself.

                  Tomkin had asked the captain to tell him about this object, but all he had told him was a legend which did not reveal much about the circumstances in which the old sea dog had acquired it. Perhaps the captain had fooled him about the magic…

                  Stuffing the thing again in his pocket, Tomkin let his mind wander on the sea waves, dreaming of being a cabin boy on a big boat, when he saw something on the horizon.

                  At first he thought that it was a group of swimming golfindels, but golfindels were more brilliant and smaller than the shapes he was seeing, and moving less heavily too…

                  #272

                  Sanso was finding it hard to stop laughing at Arona’s funny wooping hoots of laughter. He snorted and gasped until his side ached.

                  Mandrake? Mandrake! Arona came to her senses. Where has he gone? Mandrake!

                  He’s taken that glass sand thing, too! All that laughing had jumbled up Sanso’s memories, and he couldn’t recall the name of that Glass sand thing

                  (that glass sand thing, Becky made a note to look it up and correct the script later)

                  That creature’s made off with it!

                  Oh, bugger off, Sanso, Mandrake wouldn’t do that! Arona spoke sharply, forgetting her manners in her panic. What would a Mandrake want with a glass sand thing? Arona almost stamped in frustration at not remembering the name of that thing, and in front of Sanso, too.

                  Sanso didn’t hear her anyway, he was striding purposefully across the cavern towards the waterfall.

                  Well wait for me! Arona ran to catch up with him. How do you know he went this way?

                  I don’t, Sanso was honest, But when I gets an urge, I gets an urge, and I follows it.

                  Arona couldn’t think of a better idea, so she followed him. Slow down, will you! Mandrake! MANDRAKE! Where are you, Mandrake!

                  #270

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

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

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

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

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

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

                  ***

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

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

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

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

                  Haha, he had felt her smile.

                  ***

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

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

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

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

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

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

                  “Are you looking for something” a voice said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

                  #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?

                  #266

                  Sanso didn’t notice that the creature called Madrake was rolling his eyes. While he explained to the rather odd but delightfully enchanting Arona the finer points of sabulmantium technology, he was thinking about what Arona had just said about her mission. Her overall mission, she’d said, was to learn all about magic.

                  Sanso wondered what his own mission was and didn’t think he had one. Unless his mission was a glorious infinite wandering, threading multicoloured silken skeins of clues and riddles, people and places, weaving them in and out of time and to each other….the never ending tapestry, ever changing and splendid in it’s magnificence…..

                  Arona was looking up at Sanso with barely hidden astonishment, and he blushed ever so slightly when he realized he’d been speaking out loud. Shouting actually, his deep voice booming out with joy and passion, his wild gesticulations causing Arona to flinch and take an involuntary step backwards.

                  Suddenly both Arona and Sanso saw the funny side, giggles erupting into gales of laughter until tears rolled down their cheeks and they collapsed on the floor whooping and snorting and wiping their eyes, not really knowing, in the end, what they were laughing at…..

                  #263

                  It’s been a long time since Írtak last paid a visit to his family. But this time would not come now as the twins were just hatching.

                  The hatchtone, a humming inaudible sound that would help the little dragon break the hard shell, had been resonating for almost an hour now, and Írtak had to constantly refocus and pay attention to himself not to be distracted by the unheard sound. The tone was quite intense and as they were both hatching at the same time the hatchtones were enhancing each other.

                  Írtak could see the shell resonating with the gluid tones. It was shifting shape slightly, and his eyes were also perceiving a bluid glow around it.

                  In the hatchtones were the names of the dragons… Írtak was a bit astonished because those names were quite odd, but he was feeling a strange inner giggle of sort coming from some part of himself.

                  He was translating the hatchtones as Heckle and Jeckle.

                  “Defunitely!”

                  The inner laugh of Malvina was still resonating in his ear when the shell began to crack.

                  #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.

                  #259

                  Jadra slept fitfully. He was in the forest and he dreamed of a great tidal wave sweeping over him. He was holding on for dear life to the branches of a tree while angry faces swept by him in the water, shouting abuse at him, although he could not make out the words.

                  “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” he shouted back.

                  But then, to his horror he saw his left hand separate from his arm and he could no longer hold on. He saw his hand being swept out to sea and all that mattered was that he find it again. He let to of the safety of the tree and felt himself being pulled by the waves.

                  Jadra awoke trembling and shaking in terror. He looked for his left hand on the end of his arm, where it should be, but he could not see it. He knew what had happened. He had thrown his hand in the river. He thought it was sticks and stones he had thrown in, but he had been mistaken. He knew that now. He had to go and find his hand in the river.

                  Jadra felt such anguish. Not so clever Jadra Iamaman. You stupid old Fool

                  Forgive me! he shouted to the Gods. Whimpering in pain he rushed back the way he had come, back through the forest to the spot where he had last seen his hand. He threw himself into the water and dived down deep, not caring he could not swim, only knowing his hand was in there somewhere.

                  ***

                  There were very few people around that early in the morning, but a small boy saw Jadra go in the water and stood watching. He waited and waited, and when he knew for sure there was something wrong he raised the alarm.

                  ***

                  Jadra felt a great peacefulness sweep over him. He stopped fighting and abandoned himself to the mighty current of the water. A unicorn swam by him in the water and whispered to him she would take him to safely home.

                  ***

                  They pulled Jadra’s body from the water a mile down river.

                  #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.

                  #251
                  AvatarJib
                  Participant

                    Yann had a strange dream that night, he dreamt about his niece meeting a dragon, and the dragon was also a boy, a boy that seemed to be very familiar, but he didn’t know yet who it could have been :-?

                    He was feeling an urge to draw that particular scene of the dream that was so vivid and lively, but he still was hesitating about the manner he would render the dragon becoming a boy, or the dragon being a boy… it was beginning to take shape in his mind eye… and he felt a laugh and a thrill in his neck.

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