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  • #1046

    Sharon and Glo were scratching their back at the same time.

    “I think I’ve got something there… a sunburn maybe… it’s been itching since a few hours now and it bloody wouldn’t stop. Will you have a look for me Sha?”
    “Well have a look for me first, my hump is bloody itching too… I think I have allergies… and it will bring you luck :yahoo_eyelashes: dear.”
    “Oh my Floveness! you’ve not shaven your hump today! I didn’t know you were so blimey hairey! I promise I won’t tell Mavis. Shall I fetch some biafine?”

    :fleuron:

    :spider: :yahoo_good_luck: :spider:

    #1043
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Serendib Facility, Sri Lanka ~ (2036)

      Becky had been strangely shaken when she saw appearing in the last word cloud “dead becky” in huge letters.
      Surely she was not scared by death, as dead was only a different term for a different life, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to croak so young!

      Perhaps she died in childbirth; after all, it wouldn’t be so surprising because then the Serendib Facility looked very much like an eerie transitioning place. She tried to remember… When was the last time people had surprised her; done something unexpected, something she couldn’t have calculated. She thought Tina perhaps… Well, on the holographic visiophone, Becky had seen her with utmost details rolling her eyes, thrice even, at the mention of the ménage à trois… But of course,… that hardly counted as a surprise.

      She was starting to freak out. Gayesh! GAYESH! she called out running in the corridors of the facility barely managing to get a bewildered look from the nurses apparently now accustomed to her antics.

      A few moments later, she was comfortably seated in Gayesh’s office, with a warm cup of coffee in her hands. Aaaah, she loved that scent, the warmth that goes right to her heart. She felt comforted. At least if she was dead, the coffee seemed real enough.

      Gayesh had taken an undecipherable look once she had told him of her… premonition. She intuitively felt that there was something he wasn’t telling.

      She almost gurgled her last coffee sip uttering to the doctor “If I’m dead, then spit it now!”

      The laugh from Gayesh came as a surprise to her. “Ahaha,” she couldn’t help but notice, “a surprise !”

      Looking straight into her eyes, he told her “Well, perhaps your premonition has some deep meaning Becky dear, but you look quite alive to me, and with a constitution like yours, likely to live till 157 years old, if you ask me.”

      Becky was greatly relieved, even though she still had the hunch that the mysterious handsome doctor wasn’t telling her all the truth. “I think that idle life is making me insane… I need to see some real dusty rocky stuff; all those projections won’t do for the rest of my life. All the more since I’m supposed to live that long!”

      Gayesh was looking more and more preoccupied.

      “What is it, dear?” Becky asked, starting to feel the pangs of angst coming back at her. (she whispered to herself some of her favourite mantras: stand behind the short wall, breathe, breathe, yes, YES, it’s not your energy…)

      “You see Becky dear,” Gayesh answered after a minute of silence, “there is still some issue with the cloning process; until we find some advanced way of doing it, the clones need some of your cells regularly to be kept in good health, otherwise, I can’t really promise Becky Tooh (that was how the clone#2 was nicknamed) a life as good as yours. That’s why I’m a bit reluctant at letting you go on some errands…”

      Well, if she’d wanted some surprise to see that she was alive, there she got more than enough, Becky thought.

      #1041
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        “I want to go home”, sighed Jose. “I just want to go home.” He sighed again as he stood looking out of the cabin. What a mess it all was. Cyclone Ycart had left a trail of mangled wreckage in her wake, but it wasn’t just the devastation on the island, it was the atmosphere, the feeling of chaos, the sense of hidden turmoil permeating the place that made him weary and homesick.

        “Ah, JoselitoPaquita whispered softly, stroking his hair gently “Why do you want to go home? What about the treatments?”

        “Oh, bugger the treatments!” Jose frowned. “I don’t think I want the treatments any more, you know.” He looked at Paqui’s face. “I never even notice your skin anymore, I like it just the way it is. I don’t even worry about my scars any more, either.”

        “I know what you mean” Paqui smiled. “I’m not worried about it either, anymore. I’d like to go home too now. The question is, though, how do we get off this god forsaken island?”

        Jose sighed again. “God only knows”

        Paqui took Jose by the hand and led him back inside the cabin. “Remember what I was telling you about the ancients dreaming together? How the tribe would dream together, plan where to go next? How they would work things out in their dreams? Let’s try it. Let’s go to sleep and when we wake up we’ll compare notes, and see if we can come up with a solution”

        Jose smiled a crooked smile, thinking that sleep sounded as good as anything else he could think of to do. Well, perhaps there was one other thing. Jose winked at Paqui as he closed the door behind them.

        :fleuron2:

        When they woke up the sun was low enough on the western shore to cast long umber shadows across the cabin floor, and dust particles danced in the golden sunbeams. Jose woke first and lay still, savouring the remnants of dream images. He felt good; the indescribable sense of having accomplished some meaningful communications with known but elusive others that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, yet couldn’t deny the validity of. It was some minutes before he remembered the plan to dream of a solution to the problem of how to get off the island, and in an instant the well-being evaporated as he struggled to recall any useful details, and frustratingly found that he couldn’t recall a thing.

        “Focus on the feeling, Joselito” a voice in his head said. The voice had come through loud and clear, a deep male voice with a hint of a merry chuckle. “Ha ha ha!” The voice boomed again, as if in response to Jose’s awareness of him. An image of dusty reddish skin, swathed in indigo blue cloth flashed through Jose’s mind, and then vanished like a particle of dust moving out of the sunlight into the shadows.

        Paqui was beginning to stir, and started mumbling. “The pool, the rock pool, there’s a cave under the pool, hold your breath it won’t be long and out the other side…” She opened her eyes and sat up. “There’s a pool, Jose, and under the pool there’s a tunnel. That’s how we get off the island.”

        Jose frowned. “Paqui, this island is in the middle of the ocean, miles from anywhere. Even if there is a tunnel, and even if it goes anywhere at all, it would take months to get to the mainland on foot!”

        “Focus on the feeling, Joselito ~ Ha ha ha!” That voice in his head again! Jose was starting to think he was going mad. Suddenly he was filled with doubts and hopelessness. Everything seemed so utterly ridiculous. God, what was he doing here on this island! Everything was crazy here. If only he could just go home!

        “Focus on the feeling, Jose.” The voice was gentle now, and kind. “The feeling will take you home”.

        “I don’t know what you mean!” cried Jose in exasperation. “How can a feeling take me home? It’s not logical!”

        Paqui smiled a wise old smile and said “If you can’t trust yourself, dear one, then trust me for now. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

        “But we don’t even know where the pool is! What if we can’t find it?”

        “Focus on the feeling Jose, and trust that we will.”

        #1040
        Avatar1da
        Participant

          7:33:59 AM 8-19-08 ∞1da Geolocation Time.

          days of sleeping slip by. the light on the peaks soft, golden in the cool dawn. a shiver. the water would be cold but thirst is a motivating factor. movement would mean warmth. birds flitting from branch to branch…

          stones to perch on. river jade at my finger tips. the babble of a quickly flowing stream. scooping with one hand to drink from a clear pool, the musky scent of cedar and low water.

          across the wide stream, a river. actually. no. the amount of water between a stream and a river. a young buck, head bent low also drinking. antlers. how are years marked again? two prongs on each side. is that two years after reaching mating age? or four. no matter. eyes latch across rapidly flowing water. we watch each other. both still, both quiet. both recognizing in each other another survival being of dreams.

          dream memory extending into long ago. no. longer than that. the rules to colonizing a planet. simple universal rules. one band of survival beings with a limited number of nuclear families from any survival being group that wishes to expand into livable planets. set down in one place – with nothing. no food. no implements. not even clothes. if they survive they colonize. if not. well. the universe is full of tried and failed experimentation. The pulse of all that is drawn into a black hole. drawn in and back out through tunnels of light that are trapped within the black hole…

          the fact that more than one form of survival being can attempt to colonize one planet at any given time is both an advantage and a disadvantage. they become resource for each other as well as competition – resource and competition, as is all that is within and upon the planet.

          still that cave, that First Cave. on the tip of the continent in the southern hemisphere… blue ocean view… a beginning that is long ago. how long ago? 160,000 planet years? 200,000 thousand planet years? late arrivals as we are, this is where our colonization is now. Digging to find those memories and what is left of that initial arrival…

          walking up this valley on the other side of a continent, an ocean away from First Cave… funny how time advances forward and backward in both directions – in all directions – and remains the same. This now is the same now as that now and remains the same in both directions as it passes around each of us.

          the sun trickling across the tips of trees lower and lower into the valley. another half an hour and it will be in my face.

          might as well eat breakfast while I walk. thimble berries, currents, oh! yarrow. i could make tea. – if I made fire. If I had fire… or i could make yarrow tea because i have sun. . .

          at peace within because i know i am returning to the High Portal Cave on the mountain, near the timberline. the central entrance, near the ancient pine. The safe harbor of the High Portal Cave, the entrance to a multitude of passageways, interconnecting chambers and stunning connecting points that open beyond this time and beyond this continent – before and after this continent. probably, through the right passage way opening beyond this planet. I don’t know that, it makes sense that it does. I believe I will find out in my memory or in my future. i remember some of these things and places. not all of them. i remember entering, finding the stone trough of water with the wooden drinking bowl on the damp ledge. i remember passageways that lead to incredible places and times. why return now? without knowing i know. this is the way it is because this is the way it will become.

          warm sun on my chest. warm from walking. birds, quiet as i approach, resume their constant foraging as i pass. along the shore the constant sound of the river stream like the white noise of the universe, beautiful and ever present so that if i am not mindful i no longer hear it.

          a walking stick. ok, a broken branch caught between boulders. still green enough to be strong, almost as thick as my forearm with little taper and altho it is not straight, it is a head taller than i am – perfect. a walking stick. a walking staff. i work it loose from the rocks. strange markings… the hand of an intelligent being – a gift then.

          do images become visible on these pages or only the thoughts and sights from within my mind, i wonder. i try to remember not to believe all that i think… if i wonder… then do i attempt to find out? yes, often enough, yes. and why is short hair exciting, new, a sign of adventuring? changes. oh. perhaps. or perhaps it’s a way of changing breath. I smile. I walk on.

          #1032
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Finnley looked appraisingly at her reflection in the mirroor of the staff toiloots. She turned her head, surveying herself from different angles. Sure, her hair was cut very short, but she had always thought it looked quite fetching and stylish, and so easy to care for.

            She turned over the empty cleaning bucket so she could stand on it to get a better view of her body in the mirroor. Perhaps the baggy blue cleaning dungaroos she wore were not the most flattering on her slim figure, yet incredibly practical nonetheless, with 6 large pockets. She had bought several pairs on special, so she could alternate them.

            That Elizabeth Tattler was clearly just one of the mindblown ones. Mad as Almad.

            And getting worse by the day!

            Perhaps it was just THAT time of the moonth, but for some reason Elizabeth’s insistence on referring to her as a male had really hurt Finnley today. Ever since she had attempted to help Elizabeth with the Island story by modifying the love scene , just slightly, Elizabeth had been intent on undermining Finnley’s sexooality. Not only that, she appeared to be fabricating Finnley’s involvement with the noovel she was writing. Just yesterday she had overheard Elizabeth telling her publisher, Bronkel, that Finnley was telepoothically implanting evil suggestions in her head.

            Finnley shook her head again, this time in bewilderment. For Foocks sake, someone should do something about that woman, before it is too late!

            Studying herself in the mirroor again she undid the top 3 buttons of the shirt she was wearing under her dungaroos and made a mental note to buy a poosh-up bra after work today. She mussed her hair up in what she hoped was a sexy look and made her way to clean the computer gooks office.

            #1030
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Images floated across the dark screen of Elizabeth’s closed eyes as she lay on the bed. She was aware of the trees rustling in the breeze outside her window, and the soft breathing of the miniature giraffes curled up by her feet. The afternoon heat was intense, heavy and soporific.

              An island, strewn with debris; fallen trees and unidentifiable mangled wreckage of a stainless steel tubuler kind; splotches of blue everywhere dried and cracked into oddly shaped human-like-alien forms, and the telltale battered paint can with the word Azure showing, unscathed.

              Darkness, damp smells, grey stones and spiders webs, slippery underfoot, bone coldness, and then a glimpse of lime green maidenhair ferns, a shaft of light and the sound of gurgling water….

              Water sounds becoming surging tides, roaring pushing sucking head spinning weighty and then silence and the tinkling of windchimes….

              A dog barks in the distance, waking the miniature giraffes. Big brown eyes atop slender necks gaze at Elizabeth as her eyes flutter open and then close again.

              Last orders gentlemen PLEASE! and a jostle of bodies in the smoke and laughter and babble of voices. A crush of humans across a long wooden barrier for large glass vessels full of foam topped amber liquids. A hush. Silence falls as a glass box perched high in a corner begins to speak. Elizabeth can see the head and shoulders and the serious face, she can see the lips moving, but the silence is total and she can’t hear the words being spoken. The Big Hush, she heard herself think.

              Hurdy Gurdy music and a merry go round…..grinning white horses up and down and round and round …..

              Elizabeth drifted off to sleep.

              #1809

              In reply to: Synchronicity

              AvatarJib
              Participant

                ok there are enough syncs in such a short few time that I have to write some of them :)

                Since a few days, I have loads of them with Rome, it began with my desire to watch the series and shows it to Eric. Then something about a dream of Stacy ;;) and some pics of Rome coins Melissa sent me. And then at work, I heard someone tell another individual : “you mean you never went to Rome? Yes, I went…”

                I play with my sister, Francie and Eric to an energy ball exchange game, and there are some interesting hits each time. The bomb sent by Francie was particularly interesting in that it was a glass of wine, and after I looked at the energy ball early in the afternoon yesterday, we went to buy some stuffs for my new wood carving hobby :p and we found something interseting about a set for carving glasses. We bought it of course.

                At the book shop, where we found the prout syncs ;)), there was that book among the dvds… about Natural Vision Improvement by Janet Goodrich… and talking with Francie of the energy ball, I talked to her about this book and she told me about an optometrist in her city who does the same thing and that she had an appointment tomorrow!

                Well I think that’s all that I can remember for now :p

                #1024
                AvatarJib
                Participant

                  Dory was digging in her garden. Today was hot and sunny, but she was an archeologist, she could handle it!
                  She had a dream last night about a little bird talking to her and telling her there was something precious buried in her garden… well it was something like that, she couldn’t really remember… maybe it was in another dream… did she watch a series last night? The boys were still sleeping soundly, so she’d ask later maybe.

                  The ground of the garden was tough! no wonder she never dug it before, or even did any gardening.
                  Crap! She was wondering where the treasure could be, her garden was big, and she had begun under a tree, but maybe it wasn’t there… it seemed to her the perfect location though… it was like an X showing the place. It had always seemed a bit crooked to her anyway. She could get rid of it shortly with a truck… She’ll ask the boys later for that… maybe near the portal stones?
                  She left here digging under the crooked tree and started removing the stones of what she used to call the portal.

                  #1007

                  Fabella had just entered the room. She was chatting noisily, as if someone would answer to her. The sound of her footsteps was playing strange ripples on the wooden floor which were mesmerizing to look at.

                  “Years ago, I’d have felt obliged to answer her” she was thinking, as she was hovering over her body looking at the freckled nurse.
                  “I’d felt obliged by some nonsensical politeness to give her the impression that I was, somewhat, paying attention to her as a person —if not to her chatter.”
                  She laughed wholeheartedly.

                  “Oh, you’re smiling Madam, but that ain’t the whole thing, you know! Would you imagine that Miss Elena, after such an outcry would have become wiser, but no…”

                  The voice was continuing an endless litany of gossips.
                  It was obvious that the nurse wasn’t trying to get any answer, much less a conversation from the old body she was giving her daily injection to, she had found out. All the more since that body was so weak and talking was taking more energy than she was willing to give to this action. It was so much more exhilarating to play out of it.
                  She was proud of herself, having come to a place not only to feel accepting of that bodily condition that had left her riveted to her chair and bed at an early age, but more so, to feel grateful for it.

                  The first steps had been the most difficult: a whole new world so vast it was feeling as wide as a crocodile’s mouth menacing to engulf her. But like the crocodile’s mouth, it was easier to shut it close than one would think, and she had found out that she would snap back to her body each time she was distressed. Quite the opposite of what an adventurous mind like hers would endeavour to conquer. She had no care for her dying body, not with this new-found freedom.
                  Perhaps it was a mere springboard for her to get accustomed to death. That’s what her brother had told her once. But he was so fully soaking in religious beliefs that she didn’t know how to handle that he had merely said to her as a gift.
                  All that was important was the exploration, which was real to her. And it was, not only to her, but to others too.

                  For instance, she was now walking, still around Fabella, observing the interplay of the nurse’s energy field with the other people around her, even though Fabella had finished dealing with her minutes ago.
                  In fact, she knew more about Fabella than she could have learned in years of monologues with her. Things like that Ricardo wasn’t the caring guy he was pretending to be with her. But then, she didn’t know how to tell her (and if she had even the right to). She had the feeling that perhaps Ricardo and Fabella’s stories were just distractions that she had found to limit herself in the familiar of her little explorations.
                  There was so much more that she could do, she could feel it. There were no boundaries to it.
                  She could will herself to be in any place, unnoticed by most.

                  Perhaps she could try a “jump” to another location. Trusting that she would come back, as she always had. If if she wouldn’t… well, that could well mean an improvement after all.
                  What about something easy? Like some uncharted paradisaical island in the Pacific…

                  #1000
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Tina scowled: “What?”
                    Six at the top means: A goat butts against a hedge.
                    “Oh, that must be another of Becky’s evil doing…”

                    Al added after a moment: “when I scrap the last line, the draw is not bad either …”

                    “Oh,” he said, looking at the numbering… “Eighteen to go in eight days…”
                    “Yes,” said Tina, “we will have to slow down now, better tell Becky that, or she will see our entries and go crazy with new ones”
                    “Ahahaha” Al couldn’t imagine how Becky would react at someone telling her NOT to do something ;)) — it was like playing “you won’t dare” with a child :))

                    #997
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      Bloody Hell Tina! hissed Becky indignantly. Will you listen? It isn’t a limerick. I am very kindly giving you some handy hints on how to air kiss!! And you can tell Al I heard that!

                      Oh! Sorry Beck! said dear Tina, feeling genuinely remorseful at her mistake. Oh please, do tell!

                      Hmmmph, well okay then, said Becky, mollified by Tina’s sweet apology. Right, well the trick is you have to be decisive. I know you will find that bit hard, but it is the floundering and indecision which causes the accidents.

                      #994

                      Hopefully, Al was not one to judge a work by the time it takes to produce.
                      Actually, he was remembering a tale he’s been telling Sam no so long ago, about a Chinese painter who took years of training to be able to execute a painting in a single most perfect stroke. Only thing was that the Prince who had ordered him to paint this was offended when he saw him arrive empty-handed and drawing on the spot in what seemed the most easy, flowing movement that single painting, while he had been provided time and resources to the painter for so long. He had him executed, only for his servants to discover later that the painter’s house was full of tons of sketches.
                      It is all a work of art, dear Tina

                      Now, I get that you have found your favourite entries.
                      Yes, entry number 2 .
                      Okay
                      Then, the one where Fiona changes her name to Finn, that has to be a significant one; that is 151
                      Fine
                      And 223 , when Arona gets given Yikesy

                      Al pondered for a moment…

                      #985

                      The door of the garage opened with a creaking sound, and Madame Chesterhope sped up into the gritty alley.
                      In that dimension where she had hidden her command base, people were a bit sloppy about roads and tarmac, so she had designed a little modification on her machines to be able to levitate in some of the less practical areas; but she had to admit,… she loved the vibrations and bumps that the motorbike created with the friction of the ground surface.
                      She started to giggle, all enthusiastic about the speed and the wind in her hair, that she ignored the road sign indicating that the road was flooded some miles ahead. The rain had been pouring cabbages all past hexades, so much so that her leather suit was in all honesty the best thing she could have worn, not to mention the fact of course, that it was making her totally sexy.
                      Two peasants were coming her way, looking at her with wild eyes like they had just seen something otherworldly. Ahahah she laughed, the fools would soon have forgotten everything about it (another handy and sly magical modification she nodded to herself). Looking in her rear mirror, she could still see them wiggle their hands in a frenzy… What the fl…!

                      :fleuron:

                      On the road, the two peasants wondered what in the name of Shaint Lejus was that rider… But worse, it was heading straight to the pool that the swollen river had made recently, outpouring on fields and little sniggly and thorny paths, like this one. Making desperate signs to be seen and warn it, they watched in horror the black podgy thing with flabby flapping schpurniatz arms sink straight to the bottom of the pool.

                      :fleuron:

                      The landing was a bit bumpy, but she found her balance quickly. Those transdimensional puddles were a bit rough to get accustomed to, but once you knew how to manipulate it, you couldn’t forget it.
                      Now, all she needed to got to the location she was heading to was to hop through a few more transdimensional puddles.
                      Actually, all sorts of puddles could do the job, water puddles, even oil puddles… or run-over poodle puddles for that matter. She preferred water ones, for the quality of water was very fluid, and allowed for easier defocusing. Lately she had tried transdimensional exhaust fumes clouddles, but that was a bit disorienting more than helping.
                      As far as she could tell, this first one had been projecting her to a dimension in between Earth and the Duane. Incorporating vibrational qualities of the two, with a little more rigidity though. The machine needed a little time to stabilize and get prepared for the next transdimensional jump.
                      As far as she could tell, she was in a place that was not unlike her birthplace, in the countryside of England. There were occasionally some giveaways that she still wasn’t quite there yet, like an erratic flying schpurniatz, but she was close now.
                      A few meters in front of her, she could see a lovely puddle that could do for the next jump. A bit small for her… well, motorbike, what were you thinking… but that would probably do it. She took another breath, then pushed the TDPP (Trans-Dimensional Puddle Propeller) button.

                      :fleuron:

                      Flof-flof-flof-flof…
                      Bugger, bugger…. What the bloody heck!

                      Straw was flying all over her hair, and obfuscating her vision… Darn last puddle had to much mud in it, and her concentration went off for a split second, heading her towards a field of barley.
                      Turning round and round for a moment in complete disorientation, she finally pushed the levitation button to take a little altitude.
                      Oh, now,… at least she could tell she was in England, because she knew that place.
                      How perfect! She could now just move into the dimension to the Pacific island. The GPS included in the modern expensive motorbike had been bipping as soon as it had found again the satellites, and it was now pointing the direction.
                      Giggling again, she pushed a new button and disappeared into the sky in a supersonic puff of smoke.

                      :fleuron:

                      a few days later, Chestershire, UK

                      AFP - 2008-07-21 - An new amazing design has been reported by eye-witnesses
                      on a crop of barley of a local farmer along with reports of strange booming sounds
                      and orbs of light. A sight to behold, the delicate intricacy of these interwoven
                      patterns is believed by many to be the work of the Crop-circle Makers, some
                      alien intelligence desiring to communicate with us. The theme of this crop-circle
                      is thought to be a variation on planet Venus cycles, and would be highlighting
                      the number of cycles lefts until the notorious end-date of Mayan calendar,
                      Dec. 21st 2012. Scientists have brushed off the allegations of elderly pranksters,
                      as this one seemed to have required levels of astronomical knowledge far beyond
                      human intelligence.
                      #975

                      Well, now you mention it, sweetie, it’s quite funny because I was about to tell you the exact same comment… That may be a hint that at least our telempathic skills are slightly better when they are shifted, Leormn said with a draggle (that’s a dragon giggle)

                      Arona could feel a warm blanket of his energy trying to reach her between her toes, but she felt so very ticklish, that she resisted a bit.

                      Just keep it still, you snuggly dragon she managed to say between short laughs

                      You’ll find your friends back, you know; that’s just that you now need to beat your drums for a while,… just as Malvina needed to. I meant to tell you, she can get pretty hot-tempered, and usually it’s not a pretty sight, so she prefers to put everyone out of the way; and frankly, even for me it can be hard to reach her through all these dark clouds grumbling in her head.

                      I thought the others were in that darn cave too? said Arona in disbelief (for she knew dragon’s talks weren’t really to be trusted)

                      Well, can’t you tell for yourself? You’re more than capable to tune your vibration to your friends if you want to. You are as far from your friends physically as you are from them in your vibrational offering to the Universe

                      You look different dragon, looks like you’re not speaking like the Leormn I knew Arona shook her head to try to see between the mist of teal-smoke enveloping and twirling around her.

                      All things change Arona, and you know that better than anyone. Simply trust your feelings, and reach for the new version of those things you thought lost. They may appear different, but you’ll know without a doubt that you’re where you want to, when your anguish has left place to that warm feeling of being in the place you want that you long for.

                      #972

                      The world at large seemed to be going out of whack, and yet, all things seemed more and more perfect to Yurick when he was observing how these sudden surges of unsettling energies where only skin-deep —unless of course people wanted to make them out of proportion, and have their fair share of drama.

                      It was after all, only a matter of vibration. It could be as easy as noticing the least tension in his body, and releasing it as soon as noticed. It didn’t have to be big; small improvements were actual improvements, and really, all that ever mattered.

                      So, on the whole everything was fine, and he was surprised at how much, despite the sometimes dreadful incidences that had reared their ugly heads the past few weeks, people he knew had been able to cope with them, and no less than embracing these usually deemed “ugly” extensions of people’s own vibrations.

                      Noticing a slight tension in his solar plexus as Yann was telling him some little flowers where appearing on the cherry tomato plant, he released it with a grateful sigh…

                      #960

                      New Venice, July, 1 st 2035

                      The night was hot in New Venice at this time of the year. The weather patterns had been steadily shifting for many years, and the climate was now sub-tropical in the inundated Big Apple, as more and more people resented the usual coldness of winters, and had subjectively agreed upon a heightening of the temperatures of a few degrees.

                      Though accustomed to tell his body to relax, and vibrate at a lower frequency to counteract the sticky and displeasing effects of the heat, Al was finding sleep hard to find. Usually, he would attribute those moments of twitching slumberness to mass accessing of subjective information and bringing them to the objective. With the eclipse that would occur in the next weeks, those were still time of great cosmic synchronistic congruence.

                      Needless to say, he and Tina had been somewhat stirred by Becky’s sudden casualness, and relative abandon not only of the Reality Play but also of her three lovely first born to her friends.
                      People of that mysterious facility that Becky had briefly spoken so highly of had been doing a fantastic job, considering the very early birth, but still, Al had soon noticed the babies were displaying some kind of emotionless state which was eerie to observe in children that young. He had first thought of a remnant from the birth trauma, but it appeared that they were all perfectly aware, and even more than that, accutely aware of their environment to the point of displaying qualities of awareness akin to telepathy or pre-sentience.

                      Sam’s innate talent with the young ones had been very beneficial to them, and Al was hoping, would help them access their emotional communications as a guidance system to navigate within the immense and potentially overwhelming quantity of subjective information they were given such an easy access to.

                      Finally after having spent so much time before the cyputer, Al was collapsing from tiredness. He threw himself on the tatami for a healthy dose of rejuvenating sleep. Or so he thought…

                      :fleuron:

                      Al woke up with a chill, sweat beading over his eyebrow.
                      He remembered.
                      They would come… Hybrids from their future… He remembered having met one a few years ago.
                      A strange bald guy with piercing eyes and strange snorting twitches on his face. One moment he was talking to him in the middle of the ramp waiting for a condocab, and the moment after, he had forgotten all of this encounter.
                      The guy had said intently to wait for the time when the Dream would remind them it was the Time of the Reunion.
                      So what was next? Aliens coming in their aluminum flying saucepans making mosquito sounds?
                      That sounded awfully like the outrageous rants that old Russian guy named Pasha was making years ago in the archives of Dory —which they had taken as a basis for their Reality Play…

                      Gosh, that dream was so vivid, it couldn’t be a coincidence… Especially since the first Hybrids to make contact all looked like they were clones of Becky!

                      #953
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Primary Becky woke up as the sun was sinking behind the coconut trees. The grounds of the Serendib Facility were striped with the long golden shadows of evening as Becky sat up in the wicker steamer chair, rubbing her eyes and mumbling the last few remembered words of a dream….. Luce is calling…which she promptly forgot.

                        Never one to keep a good thing to herself, Becky had a sudden impulse to call Tina in New Venice and tell her about Serendib. She loved the name Serendib: ‘serendipity.’ Becky had fallen in love with the magical island, and wanted to share it.

                        She had a feeling that Tina would like it here.

                        #943
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Becky started to hear voices babbling, through the swirling colours and fog. She groaned as she became aware of her head ache, and raised her hand feebly to her forehead.

                          Ah, she’s coming round! she mentally translated the foreign babble that was drifting into her consciousness. Becky’s hand slipped down towards her belly, which was hurting almost as much as her head.

                          What the f…! she whispered in amazement, as she struggled to sit up.

                          The babble of voices twittered at her to be still, and bony fingers pushed at her shoulders, encouraging her to lie still.

                          I’m not fat anymore, Becky whispered incredulously, and began to smile.

                          A well meaning voice was comforting her, telling her not to worry, that the three babies were fine, though tiny, and had been rushed to a special facility in the mountains to be placed in an incubator.

                          Oh, cool, said Becky vaguely, not really listening. She stroked her smooth flat belly and sighed happily, and drifted off once more into the delightful oblivion of unconsciousness.

                          #940
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            Phew, said Becky, mopping her brow with her hand, what a great work out!

                            Tina was very impressed with how diligently Becky was doing her Visualisation Exercises for Pregnancy, and rather surprised to see genuine sweat pouring down her flushed and hot face. She had agreed to do the exercises with Becky, but truth to tell had dozed off after a few minutes. Still, not that I need to do exercises, Tina thought, admiring her toned and slim body. Becky kept complaining about weight gain, and Tina had tried to point out that was what happened when one had a baby. Becky was having none of it.

                            By the way Tina, what’s up with Al?

                            Yeah … said Tina hesitantly, torn between loyalty and honesty. Well I don’t really know. He is a bit obsessed …

                            Obsessed is the word! It’s turning into a monologue. We had better write something soon or who knows what havoc he will wreak on the reality play. You know he killed the spider?

                            Well, said Tina brightly, always willing to see the bright side, at least it has distracted him from his body modification experiments for a while.

                            #939
                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              Phurt had been prowling in the woods for some time, but the illuminated structure at the center of the island was more appealing than the damp trees and mud holes to build her nest.
                              And it was also like a sort of huge container of fat and tender food she could tell.
                              She had spotted three delicious looking entrées: sorts of human cross between :yahoo_chicken: and :yahoo_cow:

                              She jumped on the top of the part of the building were the three giggling entrées were heading towards. There was a window on the top of the dome which was easily opened. She wouldn’t attract attention now the rain had ceased, and that way she would be smelling the delicious suntan-cream sauce and pheromone fumet. She started to drool but before she noticed, a large gooey blue snotty pool had landed on the floor just in front of one of the meals.

                              Good thing the ensuing confusion left her location still concealed, she thought…
                              She had trouble discerning them as anything else than a big juicy appetizing blob of energy, but Phurt could tell they would come back; apparently, the light was enticing them.

                              She would wait till they come back…
                              And build her nest in this warm place full of light…

                              :fleuron:

                              Phurt started to glide herself through the roof window into the room. She hadn’t noticed how the blinking lights were making her dizzy. It was coming from that strange ball of light…
                              She started to gaze into it, mesmerized by what she could see…
                              But somehow, it felt like her energy was becoming more compact…
                              What was happening?
                              It was all so fascinating…
                              Was she shrinking? She loved that feeling, like she was becoming more concentrated, a compact ball of sheer power!
                              She was hungry for more! She would devore this world!

                              HEEEEEEEEK!

                              SPLATCH!

                              What was that Glo?!
                              A bloddy spider ‘ere! And now it’s all stuck under my foot like bloddy sticky Toilet Paper!
                              Oh come on, now we can dance!

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