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  • #1200
    AvatarJib
    Participant

      After that strange dream, Yann had completely forgotten about the city and the puzzle reality game and the park. He’d caught a cold and a disturbing hiccup that made his thoughts hard to follow. He’d been wanting to do so many things during that week end, and it was all running away from him.

      Yurick was preparing him some medicine made from essence drops and jasmine tea, and Yann particularly enjoyed how his friend was taking care of him… he was feeling like a child of about 8. Though he was grumpy and mumbling a lot, he was pleased that they shared this occasion to talk about everything and nothing in particular. When Yurick told him about a lightus flower and a spam about a puzzle, Yann remembered his dream and what he saw there. He was telling his friend about the different patterns he saw in that park and that’s when emerged the idea of a book.

      The 2 friends were quite excited about the idea of a hidden city, yet to unfold. This book would be one step toward its manifestation.

      Yann, who was quite readily passionate about weird things was already imagining walking the ground of the park and hearing the sound of the water condensing from no cloud and falling in the even pong.

      “And you know what? That teacher you were listening to in my dream, something in his way of speaking reminds me of Aleksane…”

      “I have the impression of a hearty laugh, an eye and a thrilling atmosphere”, said Yurick.

      #1194
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        “Barry the White Bear is the last person having seen Arky the missing Aardvark “ Mlle Mongoose reported back to the team of worried animals.

        “And did he say anything more?” Angela Goose asked, interrupting busy-looking Mlle Mongoose in mid-sentence.

        “Well, if you’d let the Director speak, perhaps we could hear what she knows” said Freaky the Ferret.
        “Don’t be zo mean to Angelipooh” Jobby the Hippo said compassionately “You know poor Angie is zo buzzy with Baba Yolanda coming over”
        “Who?” asked Weirdy the Weasel distractedly
        “Baba Yolanda the Loon !” answered Angela with a hint of exasperation “You’re not paying attention my dear? I told you ages ago she’d be coming this week to the Zoo to spend her winter here… I figure it’s getting too difficult for her in the wild given her age.”
        “Well, I hope it’ll be better this time; last time she came, she left you in a pretty bad shape, it took us months to get you back on your feet. It should be time for her to get over that old ugly-duckling complex…”

        “Ahem”, managed to say Mlle Mongoose who was however following the discussion with great interest
        She continued “As far as Arky is concerned, perhaps you should go see him yourselves. You’ll probably get more from Barry White than I did; He’s bearing the management a grudge since we decided to raise the temperature of his room because everybody around was catching colds after colds.”

        “Oh, great… my time of hitting the spotlight has finally come, and I’m stuck with dear ol’ Baba Yolanda” sighed Angela Goose.

        #1190
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Dory, there’s no asparagus, can we go and buy some?”

          “Asparagus? Whatever for?” replied a frantic looking Dory, almost hidden behind arms full of pillows and quilts.

          “For Will Tarkin, Mac said he likes asparagus” young Becky replied.

          “Who the bloody hell is Will Tarkin? I’ve got enough to cope with trying to get ready for Granny Hill!” Dory sounded uncharacteristically flustered and impatient, and Becky recoiled slightly from the sparky energy.

          Will Tarkin is the mouse, DoryBecky said in a tone that suggested it was inconceivable to have forgotten who Will Tarkin was.

          “Will bloody Tarkin is getting a bit too big for his boots!” snapped Dory. “He’ll be wanting caviar next! I’ve got a time travelling mouse camped up behind my microwave, and Granny Hill’s frightened to death of mice; the room she was going to stay in is full of baby geckos, and you know how scared she is of lizards, not to mention the dead rat that was outside a moment ago, appearing from nowhere, and now I’m trying to get Peppy’s house across the road ready so Granny Hill can stay there instead, and none of the bedding has been washed and it’s still raining, and now you want me to take you shopping for asparagus for a MOUSE! And not only that, there are dead rhino beetles all up Peppy’s driveway, I can’t imagine why, and I’d be willing to bet that Granny Hill is afraid of rhino beetles too, so I suppose I’ll have to sweep up rhino beetles today too, as if I haven’t got enough to do cleaning up dead rats and baby geckos. Granny Hill is afraid of gas heaters too, so I’ll have to take an electric one over to Peppy’s”

          “Granny Hill sure is afraid of a lot of things, Dory. Why is she scared of everything?”

          “Good question, sweetheart” replied Dory, relaxing her energy as she brought her attention back to the moment. “She’s one of the old ones, from the Victim Mentality Days and the Age of Medical Suggestibility. They’re always afraid of everything, and Granny Hill’s a good example. Afraid of her money in case she can’t keep control of it, afraid of her car for the same reason, afraid of the food she eats in case it contains hidden poisons and afraid of the hospitals in case they’re dirty and dangerous. She’s afraid of strangers in case they have knives and stab her, even though in all her life she’s never seen a person threaten anyone with a knife, she’s even afraid of people in other countries, just in case they come and drop a bomb on her.”

          “She must enjoy being scared, then, mustn’t she?” asked Becky. “Otherwise she wouldn’t do it. Doesn’t she realize she’s creating her reality herself?”

          “Well, that was the trouble in the old days, honey, they didn’t know that back then. There’s a lot of people who still don’t know it now”

          “Wow, really?” Becky said incredulously. “That must be weirdo!”

          Dory had to laugh. “Believe it or not, neither did I for years. I keep forgetting it even now! Some of us used to say things like ‘think positive’ which wasn’t far off the mark, or ‘behind every cloud is a silver lining’, or ‘this too will pass’, that was always a good one for when you felt like it was all out of control. Alot of people prayed to gods too, thinking that their life was in the hands of the gods. I never knew much about praying myself though, we didn’t do that in our family, but it was very popular.”

          “Maybe they were asking their own essence to help, that would make sense” replied Becky astutely. “Praying probably helped.”

          “Yeah it probably did but there was alot of baggage that went along with praying, it wasn’t something you could do on your own in your own way, you had to go to a certain building to do it, and say certain words, even wear certain clothes and eat certain things. It was all very complicated, didn’t really work out in the end. The funny thing was, they were always fighting with people who prayed differently in different special buildings and who ate different special things and wore different special clothes, it was bizarre really.”

          “Who is Granny Hill anyway, and why is she coming to stay?” Becky was bored with the way the conversation was going, and curious about Granny Hill who came to stay every so often, and always seemed to rattle Dory. “Whose granny is she?”

          “Buggered if I know really, BeckyDory replied. “Every family has one, I don’t know where they come from, they sort of just appear every so often and want to come and stay for a while.”

          #1189

          Everyone had been disappointed that the Day of the Dead Party had been a wash out, cancelled because of the torrential rain. An alternative date had not yet been set for the boulder moving party, and the interior of the mysterious mound was to remain an enigma for a while longer.

          Dan had been frankly relieved about the cancellation, preferring to get sodden on the Volderama golf course instead. He’d been delighted to meet Sergio Garcia there, especially as his old friend Juani Ramirez had had a dream several years previously about him and Sergio.

          Dory and Becky were disappointed though. They’d both been consumed with curiosity about the mound and it’s blue tiled interior and were eager to explore the inside physically, rather than with the customary psychic investigations and meditations. Never the less, they were both aware that when the time was right, everything would slot into place.

          There was much to keep them occupied, what with the time travelling mouse that was camped behind the microwave oven, and the impending arrival of Granny Hill.
          Becky had named the mouse Will, short for Will O’ The Wisp, but that was before she knew that he was a time traveller. She left him a variety of tasty morsels next to the toaster, which Will took to his hide-out — Marie biscuits, dried cranberries, little chunks of Swiss cheese, and sometimes an almond or two. She left him a piece of lettuce and two sweet corn kernels once, but he hadn’t been at all interested. Obviously Will wasn’t a victim of nutrition beliefs, and Becky was impressed.

          Wondering what else Will might like to eat for variety, and because she was beginning to realize that this wasn’t just any old ordinary mouse, Becky sent a message to Dory’s friend Mac Brock, who always seemed to be able to pull interesting information out of his hat. Mac’s wife Wanda replied first, confirming Becky’s impression that this was no ordinary mouse, but in fact contained an energy fleck of Tarkin, the Brocks non-physical friend from the future. Shortly afterwards, Mac replied, saying that Will-Tarkin liked asparagus.

          Asparagus! Becky found that quite funny, because ‘asparagus’ had been the code word that the time travellers had said that they would use. She had been looking forward to meeting a time traveller. Little did she know that the first time traveller to come and stay at her house would be a mouse!
          :mouse:

          #1186

          Arona was fretting.

          “Now, what is this all about? Can someone explain me? The purple sand is pretty, the green sky too, however it looks just like an insane dream from a deranged mind having abused smoke of robjane leaves.”

          Framing Irtak —who was having a funny pout on his face— the dragons Heckle and Jeckle were too busy considering with an amused attention the new form and energy field that their progenitor had taken.

          No words were spoken to answer Arona’s plea for answers, but answers were starting to come to them in the form of a bundle of energy which would be difficult to translate in a linear manner.

          They started to understand a few things. That for one, N’meôrl the Nirgual was not here by chance, at this place and time. Again, they had travelled far in the past of the history of their dimension, and events of great importance were in motion, that they were given to witness.

          At first, the flow of information they were having was like a stream they thought they had no control of, but as questions were forming they noticed that it was altering the flow which was then encompassing the answers to those questions.

          Like when Jeckle wondered if he and his twin had big birdies counterparts like this one to merge with, and got the following answer “No. For you are quite new essences fragments, and thus do not yet hold focuses in similar extent to your progenitor.”

          Arona was quite pleased by this new mode of getting answers, especially as she could visibly get the answers she was genuinely looking for, not those coming from questions she was only remotely interested in.

          N’meôrl was showing them also, that unlike him, they were not quite physically focused into that environment, and were not noticed by the small surrounding creatures like the little red scrabs crawling in the sand. They were mainly there to observe and draw their own conclusions, as soon some events would occur.

          As they’d finished absorbing the information, they started to notice a feeling of expectation in the air. N’meôrl conveyed to them that they would have to stay quiet in his peripheral awareness for “they” were coming, and he was on a delicate mission.

          :fleuron:

          Footsteps on the beach.
          A man approaching. He looks like Irtak and Arona, as if he had just come into this alien world from the same door they had taken. But he fails to notice them.

          He stays, facing the deep green waters of the ocean brushing the shore, as if expecting someone.

          A strange buzz starts to fill the space. A point of focused light the size of a pinhole appears in front of him, expands quickly with an elastic quality, and pops with a soft sound, revealing an improbably tall figure under a cloak.

          The man greets the new-comer with deference
          “Master Sinadron
          Jarvis, my good friend.”

          They start to walk on the beach at the unspoken invitation of the one with the smooth voice named Sinadron.

          “So, I’ve been told our little matter is going very well.”
          “Yes, very well, Master; I am deeply grateful for your intervention; without your help I’ve been told, my dear would not have been allowed to…”
          “Let’s not talk of such things any longer; it was such a delight to help two sweet young souls so deeply in love”

          Somehow, despite the words of kindness which are slithering with ease, the invisible witness got the uncanny feeling that they are but a deceptive fragment of the truth.

          “Now. Tell me”, the one named Sinadron continues in a mellifluous voice “Why have you called me for?”
          “The settlement you have suggested us to start on this land…”
          “Yes, I am aware, please go to the point instead of labouring things I am well aware of.” The voice had sharpened a bit.
          “I am sorry Master.”
          “Continue”
          “There is a growing dissent that…”
          “And from who that shall come?”
          “Err… I hear Pelorus has spoken to the Zentauras…”
          “Pelorus is but a nuisance.” The voice wasn’t asking for contradiction, though an imperceptible grin was floating on the half-hidden face.
          He continued “But I shall help you, once again
          “Master, you are too generous…”
          “Let me finish. I will provide you with more men and women, willing to start a new life under your command, to help you grow your settlement. There are a few slaves on the Duane, that place from where you come who will do great.”
          “Master…”
          “They will be there in an hexade. Make sure you stand your ground until then, even if that means confronting those nasty Zentauras.”

          And without waiting for the confused thanks, he disappeared, grinning widely.

          #1183

          Inside the cave Malvina was considering to move again.

          She couldn’t help but giggle softly at the thought of Arona fulminating at how restless that dragon of hers was. To tell the truth, she was one of high restlessness too. And her dragon, and his offspring were most of the time merely resonating to her high energy. Otherwise, they would be too happy to be left alone to dream in a corner of a cave glowing of glukenitch lights.

          Now, she had to wait for Leormn’s return from his little vacation to be able to move swiftly. Granted she could do it alone, but it would be so tedious, with all those eggs hidden in various places. Perhaps she could do with a little vacationing herself. She was thinking, Georges and Salome would be certainly glad to take care of the cave in her absence, and of her guests.

          She would go see them; she loved the little Ugling who was growing so fast he would now run in many places and ask funny questions. Vincentius (with the grumpy cat perched on his large shoulders out of reach from the bullying little one) was teaching him lots of things on the vegetation (mostly fungus and lichens inside) and on geology that the boy was eager to learn, with an unmistakable affinity for rocks though. He would be quick to learn how to summon the rock’s consciousness for many purposes.

          She almost got lost in the tunnels again. “Someone should get those indications straight, dammit!” she swore as she entered a dead-end. A few turns right, and another left, and she was in front of the painted wall with the ‘PEACE OFF’ painted door. So that’s where they went… the door was visibly shut now…
          A nearby snort suddenly caught her attention.

          Buckberry? What are you doing here little precious; hasn’t Arona taken you with her? Well, silly me, obviously not.” She added, seeing the floor covered with crushed buckberries juice. “Awww, you don’t even have the appetite for your cherished buckberries…”

          Malvina knew of course that it wasn’t the closed door that kept Buckberry here, as he most probably could go wherever Arona was, if she summoned him properly, but it was rather the fact she had left without notice. Malvina laughed heartily “Aahaha, don’t be soft Buckie, she’s probably been tricked by your daddie and your little buggers of brothers, but she’ll come back…”

          #2155

          In reply to: The Story So Far

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Tikfijikoo Island (continued)

            (see this comment for previous part)

            Mahiliki comes crashing down the island (with the pilot) having Veranassessee dumbfounded and speechless.

            Rafaela leads Paquita and Jose through their dreams into acceptance of their facial conditions, and out of the island’s experiments through a secret passageway underground.
            As well, Anita leads her parents away from the island, through a tunnel, thanks to the intervention of her favourite team of “invisible” essence friends. She bids Akita goodbye as he’s drawn to the impromptu fiesta by Mavis and tells him he shall see his spirit dog again.

            Meanwhile, Sha and Glo discover some strange hairiness side-effects to their absorption of honeycomb.

            [Fast forward a few weeks later.]

            Apparently Dory and young Becky who were going to Tikfijikoo discover the island is placed under quarantine.
            All clues indicate the vortex activities, cyclones, and mad spider experiments have put the international security at risk.

            Veranassessee is reporting the situation at the local headquarters of the Confregation (likely to be fired), while Mahiliki and the pilot are under scrutiny to check their stories…

            We find the three divas, Sharon, Gloria and Mavis with a little more hair, but not less slickness, in a military hospital on nearby Antarctica. Akita was brought there too, in solitary confinement because he pretends to be a WWII soldier and to be guided by a speaking dog (which is all real of course, but you never know). They soon plan to escape.

            Madame Chesterhope, who was unwillingly rescued on the submarine of captain Pavel is placed in some sort of detention.
            Meanwhile, Claude has visibly gotten back to Jarvis who had managed to get the crystal skull amidst the island’s confusion. They now both are on the submarine, toasting on the success of the operation of crystal skull’s retrieval.

            Balbina, an old lady living in the future timeline in Venezuela (same timeline as Anita and her parents) is moved to her son’s home, nearby old caves were she expects Anita and her parents may soon resurface.

            #1174

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            “Good day Balbina!”

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

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

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

            #1169

            Antarctic Ocean, International subwaters

            Good job my dear ones! “ the voice of the Baron was echoing strangely inside the metallic hull of the submarine.

            In front of the screen, Pavel, Claude and Jarvis were sipping vodka martinis in celebration of their new crystal skull acquisition.

            “It’s got a really extraordinary quality.” Jarvis answered after a moment of silence “I’ve been starting to study the skull and it’s taking some sort of aquamarine colour with the pressure variations, it’s impressive. And it seems we’re attracting an unusual amount of cetaceans in our trail too…”

            “Fascinating! I can’t wait for you to bring it to me”

            “Baron?”

            “What?”

            “What do we do with your old friend?”

            Phoebe?”

            “Yes. We made sure she was properly treated, as per your orders, and she’s got access to the bare minimum so that she doesn’t play any trick on us.”

            “Good. Well, I suppose you can release her on any friendly coast of your liking. She is greatly able to go on from there, though she will probably not like having been outwitted in stealing abilities… Whatever. Do as I said, and don’t get too mollified by her apparent frailty, she’s tougher than she seems.”

            “Okay. See you at the meeting point then.”

            #1162
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Rneyl ba na Bpgbore zbeavat. Gurer vf gur cebzvfr bs urng va gur fxl ohg sbe abj rirelguvat vf pbby naq fgvyy. Fur bcraf gur onpx qbbe bs gur pbggntr naq naq fvgf qbja pnershyyl ba gur jbbqra fgrc. Ure obql uhegf sebz gur avtug.

              V xvyy guvatf, fur guvaxf, fheirlvat gur qel oebja cynagf va gur fznyy tneqra fur unq gevrq gb perngr.

              Fur jbaqref vs gurer vf fbzrguvat gung jnagf gb pbzr gb yvsr vafvqr bs ure, gura uvqrf sebz gur gubhtug. Abg orpnhfr fur qbrf abg jnag vg, ohg orpnhfr fur vf nsenvq. Fur qbrf abg xabj ubj gb oevat guvf guvat gb yvsr. Gur fueviryyrq cynagf orne funec grfgvzbal gb ure snvyher…

              [ encoded in ROT13 ]

              “What is that?” she asks. “It doesn’t come from The Book, does it?”
              “Well, our best team of psychic archaeologists just got it retrieved from purported old discarded bits in the Crypt.”
              “of…? You mean… apocryphal part of The Book? Are you serious?”
              “Quite possible, you see. Do you know what’s the ancient meaning behind that word ‘apocryphal’?”
              “You tell me.”
              ‘those having been hidden away’… But the intricacy of this reality makes it possible for us, in the future of The Book, to re-insert it directly into the past.”
              “So they’re no longer ‘apocryphal’…”
              “You could look them up actually, and perhaps you’ll find even the part where they’re speaking about us finding it even…”

              :fleuron:

              — Aaaaalbert! You’re not ferreting again in my old discarded files, are you?
              — Err… No, of course not Tina.

              Al quickly changed the view on the cyputer and added with a hint of malice in his voice “You don’t have anything to hide from me anyway, isn’t it?”
              “Don’t be silly Al, and you’d better prepare yourself. We’ll be late for the big Hallowe’en party at the Father Chase Memorial Garden. Becky’s supposed to make an apparition at the party, remember.”
              Becky? You mean… The Becky?”
              “Yeah… You’re so absent-minded sometimes sweetie, good thing you got me, Sumafi as you are. Yes, that old twaddle-speaking silly exotic Becky, the one and unique!”

              #1146

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

              Leonora read from Bea’s Dream Journal:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

              “Maybe it was a baby dragon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

              “Pffft” said Bea.

              “More coffee?”

              #1125

              “Pffftt” said Bea. “Lost the bloody connection again.” She turned on the TV instead. She had been researching on the internet the three names that she had woken up mumbling ~ Gabor, Sindy and Swinde ~ and had just found something promising about interdimensional federations when the line went dead. Actually, the three names and the woman behind the desk in her dream had reminded her a bit of Oversoul 7.

              “Honestly, this bloody country! It’s like the dark ages” she muttered under her breath.

              Bea flicked through the news channels: sports on one, that boring election on another, more hurricanes on another channel……Bea paused her surfing when she saw the watermelon on a documentary channel. There was a pile of watermelons, and the narrator was explaining how the chimpanzees were sharing the watermelons with each other.

              Well what a coincidence! Bea thought, that’s a watermelon AND an ape sync. It must be a clue. HHmmm, sharing the watermelons…..

              And just think, if the line hadn’t gone dead at that very moment, that precise moment, I wouldn’t have turned on the TV, and I wouldn’t have seen the apes and the watermelons.

              Bea was momentarily speechless as she contemplated the perfect timing of everything. She was mesmerized and awestruck at the sheer vast intricacy of it all. Whoever is planning and organizing this incredible reality play I find myself in is nothing short of a genius, she thought, and went to wake up Leonora so that she could share the marvellous moment of revelation with her.

              “Oh for god’s sake Bea, you woke me bloody up to tell me that? Bugger off you rude tart” Leo replied crossly when Bea woke her and told her all about the astonishing coincidence. “Things like that are happening all the bloody time, or haven’t you noticed? That’s just Everyday Magic, for Flove’s sake, now piss off and let me get some sleep”

              But Bea had a feeling that this was much more than just Everyday Magic. This felt like something else, something incomprehensibly huge and wonderful. Not that Everyday Magic isn’t incomprehensibly huge and wonderful too, she reminded herself.

              Maybe is WAS “just” Everyday Magic after all….

              #1113

              When he had heard the others discuss around the campfire the possibility to ask help from the owners of the island, Claude knew he had to focus back on his mission. He had finally managed to escape the clutches of that mad doctor and his witches, not to be sheepishly brought back to them again.

              And that little girl seemed to know better than stay here. Despite her tender age, Claude could tell she was well guided, and didn’t really need his being a bodyguard for her family.
              And Akita, well, he was a soldier, and knew how to take care of himself. Surely, the V girl wouldn’t be as tough as those giant spiders they fought on the parallel island.

              So, without more hesitation, in a move of preternatural swiftness and stealthiness, Claude disappeared again in the forest.
              He knew he had to find his contact on the island. The bee-man.

              :fleuron:

              Mavis! About bloddy time!… Ooooh, look at that… went hunting, have you…
              — and kept that quiet too, little black ‘orse. Ye could do the introducing, can’t you?

              Sha and Glo, rendered a bit irritated by their itching were eying the stranger coming with Mavis with a curiosity drown in envy.

              #1108

              “Nice cuppa, Norm, what kind is it? Doesn’t taste like Typhoo” asked Sue.

              “Oh, it’s a herbal one I think, let me see” said Norm, rummaging in the bin for the wrapper. “Never seem to get a cup of ordinary tea these days, it’s all herbal stuff. Here it is: Siberian Watermelon and Mushroom”.

              “Tastes quite nice” replied Sue, holding her cup out for a refill.

              #1104
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Then she took a sip of her tea and spluttered it all on Gayesh’s appalled face, as she was rolling on the floor laughing again and again.

                #1091
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  “Get you hands off my bosoms, you cheeky blighter!” exclaimed Felicity, the downstairs maid.

                  The drugs that she had added to Sir Coon’s tea were evidently starting to take effect. He was hallucinating.

                  #1085

                  “By Jolly, you are a Red spy!” Hector was not duped for a moment that the creature in front of him was here to steal him the precious carving for the benefits of the Russians, like that Harring just before he had been exposed.

                  “But you can kill me now, you won’t get a thing!”

                  He was just hoping he did the right thing in sending the precious information to the feckless Lady T.

                  #1074
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                    #1068

                    From the tall windows of her manor of Pillaughpiffleston, Lady Theresa Eaglestone was eying Phlynn the gamekeeper. He was coming back from the wooden part of her ancestral domain, where he had apparently been hunting foxes.
                    He was quite a handsome man, and his pack of disparate dogs was making lots of noise greeting him.
                    Theresa had always loved men with dogs. There was such a virile aspect exhaling the scene that she almost covered the window’s glass with a bit of blur.

                    The “ahem” of her snooty butler looking down his nose almost made her jump.

                    — “Your cup of tea, Madam.”
                    — “Thank you Finnley. You may go now.”

                    #1061
                    AvatarJib
                    Participant

                      She had been taken to her room by a handsome young Russian after the onboard doctor, who was quite handsome too, had examined her. She had the vague impression she was turning a tad nymphomaniac. She chuckled and she stopped as soon as she realized she sounded like an old goose. No she would not loose her dignity. But she needed to release her tensions.

                      The doctor had told her she was lucky they came at that very moment, but kept quiet after that. That she was aware of, but she couldn’t get more out of him and she was too tired to use her other tricks on him.
                      Better rest a moment; she was confident she’d be kept up to date soon enough by Pavel.

                      How strongly she was despising him…
                      She didn’t know it was possible before their first encounter in Paris, years ago. :yahoo_thinking:
                      Mixed feelings filled up those memories… :yahoo_angry: :yahoo_love_struck: it was also at the same time she’d met Georges, the Dandy as he liked to be called then. What a pair of thieves they were… When was it? 1852? 1853? She wasn’t sure…

                      Her first mistake was to ask them to retrieve that stone from the antique store for her… Of course she hadn’t told them what she was looking for… she only asked them to steal everything in the shop! Still, they didn’t bring it back from the shop though she was positive the sunstone was there… they told her that was all they found; Georges seemed so sincere that she wouldn’t have thought he would double her and keep the stone… and much less use it. Soon enough… yes soon enough she realized she had been deceived.

                      Her second mistake was to offer them an arrangement… but that’s another story. She was not as wary as she was now.

                      She sighed. :yahoo_sigh:

                      Nothing interesting to steal in that room. Just raw blankets and a plain wooden chair… she wouldn’t have expected more from Pavel. Always keeping the best for himself and not quite as chivalrous as the Dandy. Pavel… How did they call him back then? She couldn’t or wouldn’t recall it… something like the Monk… the Monkey would have better suited him, she thought bitterly.

                      But now; she had no time to loose in dim memories.
                      She had to plan her escape.

                      knock knock

                      It only took her a few seconds to compose herself.

                      — Come on in.

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