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  • #599

    I wonder how delightful it may feel to become one with that butterfly, mused Franiel, his attention diverted from the job at hand as he followed the dance of a delicate white butterfly. He closed his eyes for a moment and merged with the creature, how free ! He sighed, trying somewhat reluctantly to pull himself back. Franiel had been sat there for quite some time now, supposedly engaged in the task of writing a short poem of 3 stanzas for Hrih, the Old One.

    Of course there was no pressure. Yet in his desire to please, Franiel felt it as such. In his dreams of the previous night Hrih had visited him. He had offered Franiel a golden crown, a silver goblet filled with sweet nectar, and a jewelled sword. Choose! commanded Hrih. Franiel had chosen the goblet and drank thirstily from it, and yet he had felt that Hrih was not pleased with his choice, and upon wakening Franiel had felt a strange uneasiness.

    Franiel had not been trained in the way of the pen, and he knew his words would be clumsy. He had been raised in a poor home, where words were not considered to be of much value other than to instruct him in his tasks, or berate him when those tasks were not completed. Being a dreamy child, this had often been the case.

    He wished he could harness the power of words and use them to soothe and caress, to create beauty even, he thought, gently running his finger over the plain wooden table where he was seated.

    Well for now he would not worry what form his words should take, for it was enough of a task even to know what his highest truth might be!

    My highest truth .. my highest truth, … how many times now had he said these words, hoping perhaps if he repeated them enough the gods might take pity on his for his ignorance and provide an answer. How could he possibly know his highest truth? The very concept of such a thing perplexed him.

    Day was turning into night before Franiel finally laid down his pen. In the end his words were simple. He sighed, saddened by the thought that they would surely be a disappointment. The best I can hope for is that the Old One will see these words as nothing more than a doorway to my soul. Hrih was wise, Franiel knew this, and trusted the decision of the Old One.

    It was in the hands of the gods, for surely if I can’t trust this at least, all my fine talk and learning is for nothing.

    I am the driftwood
    the wave carried me
    I was buried in sand

    I am the flower
    the butterfly touched me
    I fell in love

    I am the raindrop
    the cloud released me
    I became the ocean

    #598
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Linda and Peregrine’s portrait had taken a little longer than expected to realize. Quite abruptly after India’s encounter with the old wrinkled mummy, Bill Jobsworth had fallen ill. An abrupt cold he said he’d caught, that had left him stuck in his bed for a few weeks.
      He’d thought that after the stone heads and the mummy, that was good he didn’t believe in maledictions, because he would have been dead by now. India Louise had been taking care of him, to the surprise of the old Lord who, however, barely expressed more than a raised eyebrow at her incongruous request.

      That little retardation was in fact the perfect pretext for the young couple of globe-trotters to settle down in the castle, and prepare a little photographic exposition on their last trip in Eastern Africa. Though in 2057, photographic cameras were by far outdated, Linda was very fond of these old contraptions that she could use to render some of their trips with a certain kind of focus.
      She’d a custom set of specially adapted cameras that she’d enhanced with devices to free her of the burdens of storage mostly. However, they could function most like the ancient ones. Capturing light through a single lens, in a very focused time and space framework.

      She was very proud of the pictures she had taken of the Dragon’s Blood Trees in Socotra Island and the natural lighting of the scene gave a surreal feeling to it as though an actual iridescent dragon had been hovering on clouds above them.
      When she saw them, India Louise had been gaping, telling they looked exactly like what delirious Bill had depicted of his visions
      Linda was moved beyond words at how amazingly complex and delicately beautiful this reality was…

      #597

      “ As we have stated previously, these terms are quite limiting for explanation purposes. The terminology is not incorrect, by any means. It is only expressing a much, much smaller impression to you than, in actuality, these terms represent. If your interpretation of these terms is too literal, you may find yourself accepting concepts which have only been explained to you partially; for our explanation of concepts is only a minute portion of the entirety of any idea, or concept, or “doctrine.” Only playing, my friend! These concepts must be taken in at this present time, within your present understanding, to the intellect; and the intellect must be allowed to trigger the intuition, allowing a full circle of thought, so to speak; this full circle being a continuous flow of information to assimilation, to actualization, to creation”

      Patel

      Not AGAIN!! shouted Becky. For the past week every time she tried to open her blog page, it always opened on this old post of Patels. Usually, by a circuitous route, she did eventually manage to arrive on her most recent post…..but not today! That monkey Patel wouldn’t let Becky look at any other post but this.

      Funny coincidence really that she’d watched the cartoon last night called Madagascar, starrring Patel himself as King of the Lemurs. Becky had to laugh. A rave party of dancing lemurs on ecstasy!

      #1596

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      TracyTracy
      Participant

        And another movie sync! :yahoo_loser: Watched a cartoon last night on TV called Madagascar .

        “Exploring their surroundings, the four friends soon meet the Malagasy locals (a type of lemur given to having loud “rave-like” dance parties :yahoo_oh_go_on: ) and their carnivorous enemies, the fousas (a type of mongoose). As the two sides try to use these four new, strange (and large) friends to their benefit, our heroes are also confronted with the reality of their predestined roles in nature.”

        If the King of The Lemurs wasn’t Patel I’ll eat my hat. Hilarious! Unfortunately, despite thoroughly enjoying it, I suddenly fell asleep and missed half of it. :yahoo_rolling_eyes:

        #1595

        In reply to: Synchronicity

        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Interesting sync, speaking of next Indiana Jones due in theaters in 2008, having to deal with crystal skulls; there’s a Frank Marshall in here too ;))

          Lucas stated that he became fascinated with crystal skulls while producing The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles in 1992. He felt the skulls were as strong a plot device as the Ark of the Covenant.

          #596
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Poêléed foie gras, goat tagine, roquette fig salad, sherry trifle, serrano ham, lobster in ginger…..

            Manon was going over her holiday menu and lists, wondering how on earth she would manage to cater for all tastes. What a houseful it was going to be.

            …..scallion soy sauce, steak and kidney pie, wild mushroom soup, ostrich fillets with dauphine potatoes, rhubarb crumble….

            …..Cuthbert! OY! Manon grabbed the boy as he rushed past grabbing a hot mince pie on his way to the stables.

            Here, take this with you, she said, thrusting a basket towards him, crushing the pastry he was clutching, and spilling hot mince all over his hand.

            AAArrgghh! MaNON! Cuthbert licked his burnt palm and glared at the cook.

            Manon gave him a swift slap round the back of the head and said, That’s your own bloody fault for nicking it in the first place. Go and pick the mushrooms for the soup, and some rhubarb for the crumble, and bring me some greens, too.

            Cuthbert groaned, But MaNON……..

            Bugger off and do it! Ask that Bill to help you, he just went outside, hurry and you’ll catch him.

            #594
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Georges and Salome’s journal

              From Salome’s account of her journey to the Murtuane

              There is a purple beach that I have seen briefly in my third eye, with a stranded people of the Murtuane. It seems like a possible focus of Georges, named… “Jarvis” I would translate.
              Georges having moved to the mountainous and icy lands of the Duane, I thought it would be entertaining to discover more about this focus before telling him about it. Though it was not what I initially in mind as per an exploration, it surely has its purpose.
              This island has in fact the size of a continent, but being in an isolated part of the Murtuane, few are those knowing of it. It fosters some interesting creatures not found in other places of the Murtuane. Jarvis is not yet aware, but he is observed by some of them. Zentauras (these black-and-white striped centaur-like creatures) are guardians of this Island, and thus do not see the arrival of one of Jarvis’ kind as a particularly good omen. What puzzle them is that he has been rescued by one of the Daughters of the Sea.

              When I connect with Jarvis, he tells that he knows this land as “Kandulim”, a fabled island from which people could easily go into another world and bring back whatever is most precious to you. It always had been a legend for him until he had opened his eyes and seen the purple beach.

              #593
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                They were starting to arrive, some sneaking in quietly and unnoticed; some charging in with a flash… some appeared in familiar form (or lack of form as the case may be… there were those who arrived as a whiff in the air, or a sudden flickering in a lightbulb) but most came in disguise, cloaked in layers of colourful riddles.

                #592

                Outside the apartment, the sky was a pale grey, with some delicate hues of more silvered clouds of smoke spewed out by the brick and concrete chimneys. Winter time was a few degrees warmer in the big city than in the countryside, on most of the scales he could think of: temperature, decibels at least,… and certainly a few others he didn’t know of.

                Yurick (or Quintin as he was still known) was spending some time at his friend Gustav ’s place, Gustav having moved a while ago from Vienna to Paris, for a new job opportunity in the gaming industry. Gustav was living for a large part in a fantasy world full of trolls, ogres, thieves, demonists and other creatures, which made his conversations always fascinating. It was like he could get his own information about some shifty aspects in consciousness, and they were translated rather undistortedly through these fantasy adventures.

                To Yurick, Paris felt almost less familiar than these other dimensional worlds, and bearably less colourful. But when he’d come back the day before, he had found not much changed, and the ambivalence he felt towards Paris wasn’t a stark dislike, as he could have felt some months before. Furthermore, as he was becoming closer to Yann, colours were coming back into his perception of that odd reality.

                And it seemed that Yurick was developing an uncanny propensity to see 23 or 53 each time he looked up at the clock. Making him wonder if that could have any use at all ;)).

                #1990

                In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Becky caught SIGHT OF THE MOON AND liked THE WHITE light. SHE FOUND herself SITTING quietLY, BLISSFULLY UNAWARE OF DEAD GUY sessionS IN THE white OF THE SILVERY MOON. I WILL remember THIS! OF ALL THE tripS, A MOMENT OF MOONLIGHT apparently WAS KEY. SHE knew HER random ROAMING years WERE HERE FOR MANY A year TO COME. THE NIGHT air AND THE MAGIC moon IS KEY. SHE wondered WHY SHE DIDN’T HAVE THE sense TO NOTICE THE moments MORE OFTEN.

                  :yahoo_star: :yahoo_star: :yahoo_star: :yahoo_star:

                  #591

                  Arona sat by herself just outside the cave. It was twilight hour, in between the dark and the light. She had awoken early, with a heaviness in her heart.

                  Maybe I will just sit here for ever and ever and never move again, she mused, I will turn to stone, and they will make legends up about me, the strange stone girl of Malvina’s cave.

                  Buckberry the little dragon ambled over and sat quietly next to her. He had been foraging in the half light for the buckberries which grew outside the entrance to the cave, and to which he was extremely partial. Arona reached out a hand, slowly, and petted him. She felt tears begin to form somewhere in the dark space behind her eyes, was it many tears or one endless tear? she wondered. The tear started falling from her right eye first. The left eye seemed more reluctant to cry, and when eventually a little trickle started down her face, she followed its watery path with interest.

                  Light will come, said the voice kindly, can you feel it?

                  The tear from her left eye had caught up now, Arona noticed, and was first to dampen the waiting earth.

                  Buckberry and Arona sat for quite some time, communing in companionable silence, and both knew that morning a bond was formed that would not easily be broken.

                  #590

                  The dance was very intense and though he wasn’t exhausted. He could keep on doing that forever it seemed.

                  :www:

                  Georges-Irtak ware dancing-moving swiftly and with such grace and skill in the manipulation of the body consciousness. Irtak alone wouldn’t have thought some movements he was doing were possible for a human being. His bodies seemed so elastic and so changeable.

                  His attention was so entranced by him-Georges that he couldn’t really feel what he was doing. He was open to himself and he was allowing the other part of himself to move his body and he was feeling in the body of him-Georges also. All that could have been so weird and overwhelming… but his previous practice with his dragon twins had been very useful. He was aware of the intense concentration of energy involved in Georges and the connections, deep and loving, with Salome were so bright and colorful.

                  He-Georges turned their attention to Salome and send her deep waves of love and fun. She was his lover of many focuses and of many probabilities. Whatever that could mean.

                  Heckle and Jeckle were suddenly turning around them and generating a mini-tornado of emerald and pink energy. This was facilitating their movements and their expansion to other dimensions.. he was feeling the veil between them thining so much… a side-step move and he would be…

                  Stop!

                  The energy feeling made him return in his body all at once. He was still aware of his dragons but his fantastic awareness was like a dim memory. How was he doing that before… This Georges seemed just familiar now, not mingle with him, though…

                  You wouldn’t do that now Irtak, it’s too early

                  Georges was smiling slyly. His amber eyes were quite hypnotic but Irtak was feeling centered now and focused in this now.

                  You’ll learn all that in time… but for now let’s have some cheesy cakes

                  #589

                  As he layed on the purple sand, she placed one hand on her heart and her other hand on his heart. She closed her eyes and began to sing.
                  A golden hue began to emanate, with touches of pale emerald green. With her touch she relayed in energy, that she would assist him to fully awaken.
                  She would do this, with the pure love she contained within her heart. For she knew no different.
                  She was about to embark upon a journey, that she knew would take her away from her existing family. Momentarily.
                  She also knew, that all was well, as she would bridge the two worlds together.
                  Her father would be furious, but her heart would win him over. She knew this :)

                  As he slept, she went for a much required swim.
                  She had to find a way, to stay on the surface longer, without such discomfort.
                  Not being in the water, had her feeling so dry, all over, including her throat.
                  She swam and swam, swirled around, and then, she heard her father calling her name………………

                  #588
                  AvatarJib
                  Participant

                    Georges and Salome’s journal

                    From Georges’ account of their first journey to the Alienor star system

                    It’s our first attempt to use the Jorid to move through dimensions. Well the trip was worth it. I enjoyed it tremendously. I felt so elastic and inside-outed… :))
                    We had already gone through the Jorid to distant locations of our own dimension, but it’s slightly different. The adjustments of the encoding part of the physical manifestation is but one part of it.

                    Our joint focus had led us to a particularly interesting dimension. I know I have already many focuses in it as Salome has too. Maybe it was what created the draw to this dimension. We just didn’t choose to focus at the same time and space… it was our choice. We are so strongly connected that it is not important. We can reach each other awarenesses at will and communicate so fully at any moment.
                    It seemed to me that I already had a comprehension of the structure of this dimension. I’m not aware yet of when or how I did that but I understood that Salome wanted to take time, though time is not really relevant to describe the process of assimilation she was undergoing.

                    I felt drawn to the Duane. I was feeling some strong resonance in the vibrations of the people of this “planet”, but it was not really a planet like our planet Earth in our dimension. I still don’t understand fully how it is created, but the shape is quite flexible, so to speak. I had chosen to manifest different qualities, relevant to my current exploration which could be translated as physical strength and sharp intellect, and a strong persuasive energy.

                    Physically focused I could feel Salome in the RA2 of this dimension where a part of my attention was continuously focused. She already had made contact with different beings of the Duane in their dreams, preparing my coming so to speak :)) but her main focus of attention was directed to the Murtuane where I had hidden a few surprises for her. I’m sure she will appreciate the attention ;))

                    #587
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Georges and Salome’s journal

                      From Salome’s account of their first journey to the Alienor star system

                      I had more insights about the Murtuane and its biosphere. The race of green-skinned people seem to foster some deeply religious feelings. Not religious as in our age old beliefs on Earth, nothing of that sort. It’s more “religious” in the sense of caring for life, and the sacredness of it.
                      It seems they are so attuned to their feelings that they can feel in each other’s waves of moods, so that it becomes very difficult for them to entertain such violence that we have been enacting for so long on Earth.
                      It is like they form some kind of invisible bond, and can feel each other through the belonging of some kind of unseen social memory complex. I think they call each others Children of Turmak, or somewhat close.

                      There are other forms of lives present here, many underwater, and I can feel some ties between the Nirguals (those huge eagle-like winged beings) and what we, on Earth, remember as “dragons”. It is as though they are different forms of the same energetic blueprints, or species… In evolutionary terms, it would be tantamount to say that they share a common ancestor, but I know it is none of that either.
                      The Nirguals (let us call them like that for the time being) are indigenous to this planetoid of Murtuane, but they somewhat seem to have seeded some of them on the Duane, the dual or sister planet — though this is my loose interpretation… But even though it reminds me of a cuckoo being forgetful of its eggs in another nest, this strikes me as an evidence of some kind of awareness of each other, by each of the planets sentients. And also of an evidence of a kind of travel route between the two, though discontinuous if not vagarious, and probably uni-directional as per now, as nothing tends to corroborate a continuous interaction.

                      #584

                      Malika jotted down some notes on the chat window, depicting the images as they whizzed into her mind like the pages of a multicoloured flip-book

                      “As she swam swiftly to regain the spot of her observation, she skimmed almost to the surface, and as she did, she saw lights. She surfaced and heard sounds that resembled the music that she and her sisters played.
                      They held in their hands objects that projected sounds…

                      :fleuron:

                      As she swam swiftly to regain the spot of her observation, she skimmed almost to the surface, and as she did, she saw lights. She surfaced and heard sounds that resembled the music that she and her sisters played.
                      They held in their hands objects that projected sounds, and their echoes in the waters were projecting harmonious symphonies that were carried miles across the waters.

                      How odd that the sounds where so similar to the ones she had always known. But they were different, rasher, suffused of a violent nature which was so alien to the world she was coming from. It all was perplexing, and almost deafening to her. Her eyes getting slowly accustomed to the light could not yet perceive that there was no longer the life she’d felt on the strange floating body, but she knew it assuredly even without seeing it.

                      She plunged back into the waters, to reattain the gliding peace and softness that she had been missing so much already, even though she had been out of it for barely a few moments.

                      Where was the life she had felt… Gone in the strange world of the surface? She knew so little of that world, that she imagined that all their creatures could swim as easily in the airs as she could do in the waters. Was there a bottom to their environment?
                      All of these questions were erupting and expanding in her mind, when a sudden feeling got her forthwith.

                      She could feel him. Sinking slowly… and she could feel his pain inside, something else that was alien to her… He was so fascinating…
                      She swam fleetly to where he was.
                      She turned in small rounds around him, following closely his descent, not daring to touch him.
                      So alien, yet so beautiful.

                      She could communicate with him, as he was in something close to a deep slumber, and allowing for that exchange to happen. It was a breach of the rules, she knew.
                      She had been told not to interfere with things from the surface, yet she was interfering already, and she’d always been doing it in a sense… At what point did that breach leapt from her imagination to reality? She couldn’t say…

                      The light was casting a yellow radiance in the blue waters. A feeling of warmth and comfort surrounding them.
                      He was telling her he was dying, yet he was comfortable. Time meant nothing…
                      She conveyed to him that she could help him, bring him back to his floating station, where he could spring back into his world… She wanted to share so many things with him…

                      #583

                      He was falling. At least that was his impression. Not floating, maybe because he’d expulsed all the air in his lungs.
                      He was feeling his attention fade out, like it was flying away from his body… or swimming away in that watery environment.

                      It wasn’t cold. Maybe because he’d lost his sense of touch. Maybe his body was too numb for him to feel anything… Did he think about breathing? He didn’t remember how to tell his body to do it.

                      He was feeling good. He would think of breathing later if he remembered how to think.

                      #578

                      Aglaë had been looking at the odd shape floating over the surface, mistaking it at first for the strange dead body of a creature of the lands.
                      But it was not, she could feel life on it, ever so light.

                      She knew the rules of her kind, and she shouldn’t be seen… She had been venturing already too close from the tabooed surface, her sisters would have told her.

                      But curiosity was great… irrepressible…

                      #577

                      He was lying on a raft, floating on an even ocean.
                      No wind.
                      A dim light. There was no cloud. There was no sun. Just a dim light. No particular color or shade, the only difference was between this light and the ocean.
                      No wave…
                      So still was the water.
                      The raft was floating for days… The only choices seemed to stay on the raft forever or to dive into the stillness of the ocean.

                      The raft was comfortable because he knew it so well. So many years floating.

                      Now he was pondering about this other choice.

                      Diving into the ocean.

                      Would he float on the surface?
                      Would he sink?

                      Would he be able to breathe?

                      No rush though… it was just the beginning of his wonderment.
                      He was so well lying on the raft. No sensation from the contact of his body to the raft. He couldn’t remember the last time he changed his position.
                      Did he move? It was so still.
                      Was he even breathing…

                      #575
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        Georges and Salome’s journal

                        From Salome’s account of their first journey to the Alienor star system

                        The Jorid has spotted what will be the destination for our first joined adventure.
                        It’s a dimension which seems unexplored yet, and rather fascinating. Georges, as he is, would already have jumped right in, but I preferred to get a little more background information before moving into it. It’s still a little awkward to move into these realms where the laws of physics as we’ve known them are different, sometimes dramatically so. These would not be too much of a difficulty as the adaptation of the physical body usually goes quite fast, as Georges has shown me when we trained in more familiar dimensions, but the most delicate part is when we barely know the relationships at play.
                        Georges will laugh because he’s more confident that everything is perfect, but somehow, I tend to believe that things can be a little more perfect when we know how to avoid making faux-pas.
                        So we’ve spent a few days gathering some basic informations on this dimension we call Alienor. The most part of the activity seems to revolve around a cluster of planetoids. At this moment, it’s forming a system of three planets revolving on the same orbit around their sun. We call them Duane, Murtuane, and Phrëal.
                        They seem to form a complex web of relationships, and cover such a wide range of aspects that we have decided on a mutual agreement to split our exploration to cover more ground for a beginning.
                        Georges is exploring the Duane, and I took the Murtuane, both planetoids seeming to come from the same core of matter, in a manner of speaking. The feeling around the Phrëal is more ambivalent, as though it is undergoing some deep change, not unlike to the Shift that will be (or has been) occurring on our Earth. So, we’ve decided not to interfere with it right now. It may take a dozen of years (as we understand them) for them to undergo that process, but it’s not like we care of time issues in any case.

                        Here are my first observations concerning the Murtuane. Obviously, it ties into the Duane, but I am not completely aware of all of these ties yet.
                        The first connection I had to the Murtuane was with some ancient beings living here. I saw myself riding one of these sentient beings, gliding through the sky in a mountainous land. The colours are vivid, even if the atmosphere seems very light, and filtering the sun’s ray in a spectrum slightly more indigo than our sky on Earth. These beings, whose name I can’t yet translate accurately (it’s something close to Nirgual) are powerful winged focuses of essence, though I suspect this to be a mere convenient form that they use. They somewhat remind me of the Rokhs (or Rocs) that the sultan’s wifes were telling us about in their legends. Apparently, they are respected, perhaps feared by the people inhabiting the lands, though I can feel they are for the most part benevolent.
                        These people, those that I could spot, seem to have a slightly green skin, but overall humanoid form (within my translation of them).

                        I will probably have more to connections once we gather our impressions with Georges.

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