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  • #1711

    In reply to: Synchronicity

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Not sure if this link will work to Oba’s song lyrics, but the bones of the sync are this:

      “We’re goin’ out tonight bejeweled and adorned
      A Horus Line’s performing at the Gates Of Horn
      Mummies get boners and their wrappings unfurl
      At the sight of my Memphis girl

      She is so extraordinary
      Strolling through the mortuary
      The Necropolis aint half that scary
      OOOOH! Memphis girl…”

      :mummy:

      #727

      The cave was silent, except for the sounds of water springing from one of the wall.
      The night was long and full of dreams. Georges and Salome were here since a few weeks now, and the were spending a lot of time with Malvina, talking about many things from different places that Irtak had never heard of. One was called New York City, another was called Vienna, another was the Smoo Cave and there were so many more… Malvina seemed to know most of them. That was the first time he ever wondered how old she could be. Since his arrival here, it had never come to his mind that she could be “old”. He knew she was wiser than most of the Elders, but she seemed so young.

      She had magic. Maybe that was the key to her youth.

      He felt Heckle and Jeckle stretching their attention in their dream state. Their bodies were lying together on the warm sandy floor, and their light bodies were playing around. He could see them flickering in and out of the room. He could follow them if he wanted, but his mind was full of the places their guests had described.

      :fleuron:

      Georges and Salome were lying on an improvised bed, made of a snoot fur on the warm sandy floor. He was holding her tenderly. Their energy gently merged in a single movement. They were fully opened to one another and Salome was creating an inner landscape for them both to play in. Sam’s body was lying nearby, and her spirit was frolicking around in this inner landscape.

      They were sitting in the center of a clearing, at night time. The sky was full of stars and Georges did recognized the sky of the Murtuane. An owl was hooting not far away, sated after her hunt. They could feel her contentment, the hunt was good, several big mice tonight…

      Malvina was with them, and appreciating of the environment. She had had few occasions of going to the Murtuane herself. Even though she was so close, living on the Duane, its planetary sister.

      Where are we exactly? asked Malvina.
      Not so far away from the purple beach of Kandulim where Jarvis once came. Jarvis is a focus of Georges. And he surprised me once… Salome recalled that event with amusement.
      Georges grinned widely and chuckled.
      Yes, I can remember.

      Malvina sighed with relief.
      You are aware that my sisters are coming soon to the cave.
      Yes, we could feel the calling, so to speak. This is the crossroad of many probabilities, and it is connected to many, though not as spread as the shift in “our” dimension is or was, depending on when you project your attention.
      It was Malvina’s turn to grin now.
      Yes, I am aware. It will be soon time for us to move the cave into another location.

      SPOTCH

      OH! THAT’S WHERE YOU THREE HAVE BEEN ALL THIS TIME? INTERESTING ARRANGEMENT OF YOUR PSYCHE. THOUGH I PREFER MY CAVE.

      SPOOTCH

      Sam got on her legs and barked, quite surprised by this sudden blinking in and out of the dragon.

      HAHAHA, we didn’t even have the time to seem surprised. said Georges. Lëormn was quick. And he likes being in himself.

      Salome got on her feet and stroked Sam playfully. The dog was licking her face with affection, and stopped suddenly. She seemed to have heard something.

      The owl hooted again.

      My sisters are closer than what I first thought. This owl is an aspect of Oorlaith. Malvina’s gaze became distant for a few seconds. She won’t come tonight with us, though she gives you her fond appreciation. She’s currently busy with a man you already know… Leonard. Another one like yourself :)
      Salome raised one eyebrow.
      Leonard his here too? That’s an interesting information :) things won’t be dull with him if I dare say so. ;))
      I think he’s got a crush on her. He’s doing some stuffs for her at times… and he’s still with his dog.
      Sam barked a few times, waggling her tail and Georges grinned.
      You remember Moufle, eh!? Well, do you know where you’re going Malvina?

      She looked at him intensely and then at Salome.
      You might be surprised.

      #1685

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      AvatarJib
      Participant

        I asked that to Elias in one of my sessions. I don’t think it is lilac but I don’t remember.
        I’m going to look for it tonight.

        #689
        EricEric
        Keymaster

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

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

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

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

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

          #1625

          In reply to: Synchronicity

          EricEric
          Keymaster

            Woot! Fantastic synchs Francie (ahaha, and trying to write “!!” on the mac keyboard, it keeps writing “88” instead :D ) – not minding the order at all

            Another one that you did not mention, related to the website of Ray Caesar: an octopus mermaid ( see comment )

            And, tonight, while dreaming, I had impressions of a character/essence named Raya (based on the first letters of our essence names), in a white toga, radiating peace and wisdom… perhaps an Olmec priestess, among other focuses…

            On a side-note, there is a very popular 3D software named Maya, and Maya is a favorite focus name for Awan/Dawn, and yesterday, I came across a movie named Rescue Dawn in the TV program.
            A funny one is that there is a character named Spook in that movie played by a Toby (Huss)… And it’s a spin-off from “Little Dieter needs to Fly”… mmm does that account for a “fly” sync?

            #1617

            In reply to: Synchronicity

            EricEric
            Keymaster

              Quite a few syncs here too, highlighted by F & T’s conversations…

              • Eight and insects, …
                8 peoples registered, 880 comments, and 8 posts in the last 24 hours, was wondering about the 8 that I found appearing recently.

              Tracy: Funny sync Eric! Because today, my ear whistled, and I recalled my old Aunt Norah’s little saying
              when your ear whistles, think of a number, I always thought of 8…

              Speaking of ear, Francie dreamt of earwigs, while I was dreaming of a big insect dissection… And Tracy had insects in a Chinese movie she was watching too…

              • … magpies augury

              One for sorrow, two for mirth,
              Three for a wedding, four for a birth,
              Five for silver, six for gold,
              Seven for a secret not to be told.
              Eight for heaven :yahoo_angel: , nine for hell, :yahoo_devil:
              And ten for the devil’s own sel’.

              (see this link or this one for more details)

              • … and children’s stories

              While we were discussing the Finckle Four with Francie and old children books by Enid Blyton, Becky finally found her books: The Magic Faraway Tree ,… by Enid Blyton.
              I remembered I was climbing a tree in a dream tonight… But syncs don’t stop here:

              • The children names are Jo, Bessie, Fanny and Dick (originally). In modern reprints, the names of the children have been changed – from Jo, Bessie and Fanny to Joe, Beth and Frannie. From wikipedia: in the first case to make it clear that Jo is a boy, in the second because Bessie is seldom used as a nickname for Elizabeth anymore (most would go by Beth, Liz or Lizzie), and in the third because Fanny is a slang term for vulva in the United Kingdom, Australia and New Zealand. Cousin Dick, who appears in “The Magic Faraway Tree”, has his name changed to “Rick” in new editions, presumably for similar reasons.

              Wow, we’re in there :face-grin:

              • There is the Angry Pixie, and an owl, who lives near the Angry Pixie’s…
              • And also, In V for Vendetta, V is shown reading the child’s book to Evey, and alludes to “The Land of Do-As-You-Please” and “The Land of Take-What-You-Want” over the course of the book… The sync is that Yurick found the graphic novel in Gustav’s home, and while reading it, found similarities with V and mummy Four , both being subjects of experiments… In the novel, there is a moving letter featured, by a certain Valerie, who is born in 1957 — click —…
              #619

              Home, at last… Bernie Eleonara Mynd, Viscountess of Shropshire sighed, dropping her hairy salmon coloured hermine fur coat to the butler.
              Now, leave me alone Vigor, I don’t want to be disturbed.
              Madam, Vigor bowed deferentially

              A smoking teapot of fine herb tea was prepared on the glass coffee table just near a black silk pouch. With a greedy look on her face, she untied voraciously the pouch to reveal the crystal skull she had just acquired.
              After a few seconds of beholding the priceless possession, she lifted the teapot lid with a stiff face which eventually smiled blissfully at the smell of the fine Earl Fuchsia crop which was infusing.

              Good Lord, that trip was exhausting!… she growled in a very deep voiced that suddenly sounded more male than before.
              Didn’t know I had to go as far as Spain to get that darn skull!

              Bernie suddenly ripped her fine chignon from her head, revealing a bald head with a few short black hair on the top. She spitted her false teeth, peeled off some wrinkled patches of latex skin, smeared the mascara around her globular eyes and scratched her crotch…

              A ruffled sound and a “mmm mmm” suddenly caught her attention off the itchy body parts.

              She went to the cupboard, drew a key dangling from a necklace deeply buried inside her ample bosom, then stopped for a moment, and muttered a “bugger” before unbuttoning her tight blouse and removing the corset that was constraining her breath.
              Smiling wickedly, she proceeded to open the cupboard, but recoiled at a pale tied and muzzled figure who looked much similar to whoever she was impersonating.

              Oh, Lordy, what a stench! There’s no point in making such a fuss Viscountess, this will soon be over… I just needed a few things, and will soon be off, tonight to be precise…

              The pale figure whined with pleading eyes.

              Oh, just don’t make these eyes at me…

              Bugger! I can’t bother with her now, she said to herself, closing the cupboard’s door oblivious to the plaintiff whines. Now, got to move on real quick, before they realize something was wrong with the transaction.

              :fleuron:

              Juan had insisted that they all spent Christmas together before Paqui and Joselito went for their trip. He felt that there was more to this trip that he could grasp, and wanted to share these precious moments now, not wanting to live on regrets.
              Now, the new year was here, and he was alone. At least, he’d been more than glad to see Claudio move out. It had all been a lot easier than he’d thought at first. Obviously, when Paquita had said to that maggot that she was going to accompany Joselito to his trip on the whachaname-Kikkoo Island, Claudio had been outraged, probably thinking a good playing victim act would soon make things right for him.
              But he’d been wrong altogether. It was not about love for him or the other. It was all about freedom and being what she wanted. And emotional blackmail very quickly proved besides the point.
              His father had been proud at Paquita. Her decision obviously was made, and it had been the first time he had seen the frail girl unwavering at the arguments.

              The situation had soon proved unbearable for Claudio, who had no longer any reason for hanging around Juan and Paqui’s house, and one day he’d moved out, rather discreetly, not to be heard again. Somehow, Juan was aware of the town’s gossips, that he had acquired some unexpected sum of money, not sure if all very legally, but the thing was that he had decided to take his chances by going some said to Nicaragua, others to Brazil or even to the US…
              But who really cared?

              :fleuron:

              On his plane for Valparaiso, Claudio was looking at the letter he’d found in the family trunk. It was a brief correspondence between his grand-father and a certain Cillian Mc Gaughran, and it was linked to the skull he had sold such a handsome price. Perhaps he could get more information about them, if the recluse old man was still alive, that is…

              #572

              The meowing of the angora Zhulie had woken up Yurick.
              The past few nights, he had not heard her at all, but tonight, she seemed to request specifically his presence.
              Last evening during the dinner, it had cracked him up because the cat was acting funny when it had smelled the cooked bamboo shoots of the sautéed vegetables he had for dinner. Perhaps a recognition of the Pekingese that he had once seen her to be, in shared focus in Imperial China.

              Well, obviously Zhulie was no ordinary feline. Her character reminded Yurick of a blend of himself, Yann, Finn and his own mother. So that each time he was playing with her, he instantly had them in mind, in various orders of appearance, or strengths.

              In any case, when he came back to his bed, Yurick was annoyed at first, to have been drawn out of his comfortable dreams, but he managed somewhat to get back to a state of relaxation, in between dreams and reality —which was obviously a mere way of saying things, as dreams are reality.

              Speaking of dreams, his mind was wandering around the news that his mother had told him, about a distant cousin having published a book revolving around dreams and fantasies.

              And then, within the dream, in the dream, in the dream,… an idea formed into his mind with the clarity of an evidence.
              He could see it happening… Not only one book, but… oh, he couldn’t wait to tell his friends!

              #515

              That Abe sure is ugly as a burnt boot and crazier than a run over coon, aint he, said Isadora, one of the saloon girls who Twilight didn’t cotton on to much. The other girls laughed.

              Twilight was real fond of old Abe, and truth was she was feeling right tetchy and pernikity and itching for a fight, and she weren’t much in the mood for dancing that night.

              And your brain cavity wouldn’t make a drinkin cup for a canary Isadora. So why don’t you just shut that big old stupid mouth of yours before everyone cottons on to the fact that you are studying to be a half-wit.

              Why you are nothing but a no-good little strumpet, screeched Isadora, lunging at Twilight and trying to grab her blond wig. Twilight stepped nimbly out of the way.

              And you aint nothing but a stupid little buckle bunny, taunted Twilight. You got nothing better to do then follow those rodeo fellows around?

              Snakes Alive! exclaimed Madame Butterbutt. Will you both hold yer tongues and stop yer bitching. And will you get a hurry on Twilight. Yer ain’t even dressed yet.

              Isadora started crying. That Twilight started it, she snivelled.

              Sooner i get rid of this damn one horse town the better, muttered Twilight under her breath. She touched the jewelled dagger lodged between her breasts. Those damn liquor breath cowboys better not mess with me tonight.

              Old Abe, propping up the bar, chuckled

              #1590

              In reply to: Synchronicity

              EricEric
              Keymaster

                Another funny sync tonight, my gaze was attracted by one of the ads on the sidebar about a site to share maps.
                On that website, clicking from one map to another, I got myself on that page

                And the icon I clicked on was a restaurant named “chez Georges”, near the street “rue du Renard” (street of the fox).
                And the user name is Anita Pand(jaitan)… :-o

                #392

                — The legend of Mævel — (Part IV)

                Mævel’s mind was made up, she was leaving tonight. She took a few of her belongings in a little bundle, and all very silently, moved to the door, the bundle in one hand, and the key in the other.

                But when she tried to put the key into the lock, she noticed something was wrong. The key was way too big for the small lock. What was the purpose of materializing a big key unfit to the locks that were in front of us? she wondered.
                Perhaps the key will have another use, she said to herself, and she put it into her bundle, and wondered whether she could find another way to get out of the bedroom.

                « Use your magic,… you don’t need to play by the rules » a tiny voice whispered in her ear.
                « What does that mean? » she asked, befuddled, as perhaps her parents where right after all, she was becoming nuts… Well, that might attract squirrels and have them gnaw a hole in that wall, she said giggling to herself.
                « You don’t need draw squirrels,… you can draw a door directly »

                What a strange idea, Mævel thought, drawing a door… It sounded so funny at the moment, that she could feel her heart lift and her spirits as well. What could she use to draw that door… Her gaze ran quickly through the bedroom, looking for a bit of chalk, or charcoal, or whatever else. What a terrible thing that she was so obsessed by dusting, as there wasn’t even a single dust bunny left to draw that door.

                « Now, will you pay attention? »
                « I beg your pardon? »
                « What did I told you? »
                « Mmmm, let me think… Oh! I don’t have to play by the rules… »

                So, in a bout of genius, Mævel ran her finger on the wall, starting from the floor, straight upwards, then to the right, and straight down again, until… well, nothing happened.

                « That wall hasn’t budged any! »
                « Are you sure?… Look closer »

                And Mævel saw that the wall had become like a shiny surface of water, right inside where she had drawn the limits of that imaginary door. And when she pressed her finger, it was simply going through it, as though the surface had just been an illusion.

                With a thank for the helpful voice in her head, she was about to cross the surface, but was stopped in her track by a moment of hesitation. Could she change the destination behind the wall as well?
                Why not, after all, she didn’t have to play by the rules.

                « To the forest! » Mævel ordered intently to the wall before jumping in.

                The voice smiled to her fondly.

                #327

                The rain was pouring cabbages :weather-showers: for several days now, almost the whole week… Baul was fed up with that filthy weather of Cromash Tur. The capital of this 4th kingdom was quite nice and pleasurable, but it lacked sun and warmth… Baul had come to Nâabooli, the capital of Cromash, in order to settle an arrangement. Something quite particular that he couldn’t find in his own land of Erpet Mesh. He’d been travelling for weeks with his guards and servants when he arrived in the city and all that for some foo’kin rain! But something more important than brooding and pouting was on his mind.

                Tonight he was alone, no servant, no guard… he was wearing a black coat made of goat skin on his usual blue and yellow silk robe, he couldn’t wear anything else, his skin was too smooth and delicate. He was spending great amount of money to take care of his body, it was his own pride, and he considered himself as a very handsome and appealing male.

                The man he was about to meet wasn’t hiding, but oddly was acting in full sight. Nonetheless, Baul didn’t want to be seen with him, Baul was an ambassador of sort from Erpet and he couldn’t be seen entering in an Assassin’s house. In Cromash, the Assassins were quite a respectable and wealthy, but in Erpet they were outlaw… one of the numerous differences between the two kingdoms, one they would never agree upon. Baul found it quite useful though; many times he’d met Ar’Am Khra, one of the best of this profession.

                For this meeting, as always, Baul had chosen a tavern, the Landgurdy, called after one of the former 12 kingdoms. The 4 remaining ones were at war most of the times, they couldn’t maintain peace more than a few years at best, and Baul had found many ways of benefiting of this situation. Merchant, Ambassador, and much more. He was thriving with plotting :face-angel: :face-devil-grin: and it was quite useful to be one of the ambassadors of Erpet Mesh, offering him safety wherever he was going. It was one of the few respected rules that were common between the Warring Kingdoms.

                The Landgurdy was quite a crowded tavern, and the owner was a friend of his, though not really officially. There was that private room on the rear of the building, know only of a few chosen “friends”, so they could enter unnoticed by the usual customers and by would be spies. The rear door was seemingly leading into another building, and some arrangements had been made over the years.

                Baul knocked the code at the door, and a vasistas was open quickly and closed even more quickly. The door opened then and he entered in the darkness of the house. If anyone opened the door, he or she wasn’t there anymore, but Baul knew the place quite well as it wasn’t his first meeting with the Assassin.

                :fleuron:

                The Assassin was waiting in the small room, square shaped with only a wood table and one chair. No window. One dim lamp.
                He was sitting on the lone carved chair. His clients needn’t sit.
                They were mere beggers.
                The one that was coming now, was quite amusing.
                The first time he met him, Baul was quite young and inexperienced in his own skills. Though he was quite ambitious, Ar’Am Khra had to admit it.
                The usual reaction when seeing the Assassin’s pale complexion was shivers and disgust. He was used to it and it was a game that he had enhanced with a little bluish glowing dagger tattooed on his forehead.
                The dagger was the mark of his profession, though not so obviously exhibited by the others. Cowards.
                At that first meeting, Baul didn’t react the way his other clients did. And it was not influenced by his utmost concerns at that time. Beside his inexperience he was quite engrossed in what he had called his “mission”.
                Ar’Am Khra did not know of any mission, there were merely contracts.
                And he was doing what his clients were paying for.
                Accomplishing his contract even after the death of his clients.

                He was remembering of an amusing event.
                A client had hired him to end the life of another man, and the second man went a few days after to his office to beg him to kill the first man.
                The Assassin accepted the contract.
                A few days later he killed the second man.
                He executed the first one not long after that, thus respecting the second contract. :yahoo_skull:

                He never questioned the motives of his clients.
                It was not for him to judge or to understand. Though most of the time he did understand quite well.
                His main motivation was the payment and his own pride in expressing his skill with subtleties and newness.

                The door opened smoothly. Baul entered the room.

                :yahoo_alien:

                :fleuron:

                Yann and Quintin had an interesting chat during the afternoon. Yann had some new impressions about the map of Lord Wrick annotated by Quintin. Something about the Warring Kingdoms, triggered by a dream of an Assassin in one of them. It was frustrating not to be in the same room so Yann could show Quintin directly on the map, but with Internet there were some other options.

                The names of these lands were Ata’Meliu, Dam Adbor, Erpet Mesh and Cromash Tur. These 4 Kingdoms were rather scattered on the Lan’Ork part of the continent, pieces and bits everywhere, though Ata’Meliu was more in the center and the South of the Lan’Ork, Dam Adbor in the East and in the North, and Cromash Tur in the West and South West parts, Erpet was divided in 2 main areas, one located on the Northern land just before the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer, and a smaller one lost in the middle of Ata’Meliu.

                Yann only had the impression of 2 of the capitals, Naat Medin was the one of Erpet Mesh and Nâabooli of Cromash Tur.

                Quintin just sent him the map so he could draw some more comments and sketch the boundaries of the Warring Kingdoms. He didn’t know why, but he felt some movements were about to begin, some reconfigurations of the borders :world:

                #1358
                AvatarJib
                Participant

                  tonight I just want some tea…

                  :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck:
                  :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck:
                  :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck:

                  #317

                  Ibn al’ Gruk was weary.
                  That lone grake he had seen flying over the desert settlement this morning had baffled him.
                  Usually, such creatures where not migrating at this season, and this one was lone too, which was all the more baffling.

                  The old gripshawk had seen many things in his life, but this was surely a presage of importance. In the myths of his people, the big colourful birds were once thriving in the desert oasis, where they were thought to have appeared in the Old Times. But having been extensively hunted down as food for the gripshawk tribes, they had moved away, and the balance had been broken.
                  It had prompted lots of the tribes to move apart, in search of food and exchanges, and few of them were now still living in the deserts as they did in the old ways. Many of them, for many generations now, had been creating cities on the coast, and the most flourishing one was Chafik’ An, where a traveling portal had been erected by the humans from Lan’Ork to facilitate exchanges and trades.

                  All of that, despite his old age (that his long mop of white angora hair under his chin could account for), Ibn al’ Gruk had only heard all of this through the lineage of his ancestors, but he had seen some of the conflicts that had been created, and he understood that change again was in the air.

                  He felt like he could weave a new tale to entertain the settlement tonight, and perhaps give them inkling as to the new changes to come.
                  For he felt changes were coming, and that they had been in motion already.

                  ***

                  The night was clear, and lots of people had gathered around the big bonfire. They all loved these regular meetings where everyone would meet and share food, drinks and over all, gaiety.

                  He started to drum low deep sounds and cleared his throat.
                  A fit of cough got him by surprise, but it was just a hairball that he spat in the fire, which set ablaze immediately, providing some dramatic effect that hushed everyone down.

                  “In a mysterious land far far away,” started Ibn al’ Gruk, with a growling voice…

                  ***

                  Egypt, 2657 B.C.

                  Lekshen had dreamt of Set that night. The god had appeared to him in one of his familiar forms, that of a long snouted animal .
                  Lekhsen was wondering why the god had requested such a task for him to do, but he was certainly in the perfect position to accomplish such a task.
                  Like Set, Lekhsen came from Upper Egypt, the arid land, and he had managed to get a high-ranking responsibility in fertile Lower Egypt as a scribe thanks to the unification efforts of Pharaoh.

                  But Pharaoh’s daughter had just died… right after her 10 year old brother, and Pharaoh’s himself felt He would not live much longer.
                  Which would mean that the closest male in the family would be likely to get on the throne of Egypt. And that would be bad news for people like him, as the brothers and brothers-in-law of Pharaoh did not appreciate much His policy.

                  In the dream, the strange creature had asked him to hide something with the mummy of Pharaoh’s daughter. It had told him people would forget about how Set was fighting for Ra, the Sun, each night that the bark was traveling on the dangerous underworld waters. They would forget, and would demonise him and his people, and he, Lekhsen would have to write the story, and bury it with the Princess. His status would allow him to do it unscathed.

                  “Would people ever remember they once were One?” had asked Lekshen to the god.
                  “Only you can tell” had the creature answered.

                  #202
                  EricEric
                  Keymaster

                    Jacqueline Bleomelen was a strict yet very affectionate nanny. Her Breton name being barely pronounceable by the English speaking kids she had at her charge, she was most of the time simply called Nanny.

                    Once, one of the rude kids from a previous home where she had been serving an atrociously callous French Count, had called her an Old Gibbon, referring to her wrinkled face. But she had a very light-hearted nature, and wouldn’t show any hint of taking offense.

                    Better, she liked the association with the playful and ingenious apes, and kept the moniker as it was more easily pronounced by the English kids she had in charge, and made them laugh that they could be so irreverent without facing punishment.

                    For special occasions, Jacqueline was wearing a funny costume that made the children often wonder why she had put some funny hat with little moth-feelers loose on her chin, but that, she had explained was a traditional dress from her homeland of Brittany.

                    Tonight, Jacqueline, or Nanny Gibbon, was having a funny dream, but perhaps that have been because she had been very excited by that excerpt she had read before going to sleep. As she was very pious, every night before going to bed, she would read a random quote of the Bible.

                    Last night it had been the Old Testament, from the Book of Joshua. It was about the conquest of the Promise Land, and talked about a king from Hazor named Jabin…

                    And in her dream, Jabin was a strange looking man, lost in the middle of ruins, who wanted to contact a woman about discoveries he had made in the Promise Land. He had found an entrance to a cave that had befuddled him. He hadn’t ventured too far into the cave, but anytime he had, he had found it impossibly deep and wide. So he wanted to share that discovery with that woman, but she was flying around in a parrot-coloured ballet tutu, on top of a three-humped flying camel…

                    Even the rigorous Jacqueline couldn’t repress a laugh at the unlikely images that her tired mind had produced.

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