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  • #305

    Quintin couldn’t sleep.
    Now he was thinking, he had delayed it for too long.
    They all had been thinking of it, talking and glossing over it for so long. Some had dreamed of it, feared it, asked for it to bugger off. Lots of pains and struggles, but it had only been clever or not so clever ways to delay the unavoidable.

    Now, he had an urge to insert it. How come he had not thought of it before. All he had to do was insert it in his reality.
    Well, that would sure mean lots of changes, but after all, no pain no gain.
    Or no abundance.

    ABUNDANCE abun·dance [ ə-ˈbən-dəns ] “The ability to do what you need to do, when you need to do it”

    That’s how Pasha, a Russian friend of Dory had defined abundance — speaking of Dory, now Quintin was seeing how she was ahead of the herd, and a bit of a coal (slow) mine canary too. Quintin would have changed all the world’s dictionaries to have that new definition everywhere. What a task…

    Actually, that’s it! Quintin had feared the implications, as lots of people did.
    It would mean everything would be allowed. Everything would be true, even the most blatant contradictions would be harmoniously living side by side. Struggle would be needless, and all that would be needed to do would be to stop paddling upstream.
    What a mess it could be for salmons and control freaks as himself.

    Perhaps worse, it would change everything, even “past” events where everything would also be allowed, now.
    In-of-body travels (rather than the too classical “out-of-body”), meeting other selves appearing out of nowhere, talking with dead people, or sugarplum fairies, traveling instantaneously to meet Tchaikovsky and have him change his dying swan for a stuffed talking Mother Goose, flying, shape-shifting, manifesting objects out of thin air, the possibilities would be extraordinary… All in that physical reality where everyone was struggling to prove none of this was possible.
    But if everything would be allowed, then be it! And he would go and live in 23, Dragon Alley, Phœnix Ville, Sunnyvalley with Yann (and the others of course, if they wanted to) and do whatever they wanted to do.

    OK. That’s a deal then. Release the camouflages, open the watergates and leave the damn dams to beavers and loosers.

    Let’s insert the Shift, now.

    And let the fun continue, and worry wither away.

    ***

    Well, and what’s that Shift all about?

    Quintin’s friends Michaela and Elias had said about it :

    “You are also bored in the experiences that you have created to this point. You have experienced. You have created in the manner that you have designed previously. Now you choose to be creating in an expanded experience, allowing more of your awareness, more of an opening to consciousness, more of your own creativity and your own abilities, and you are discovering that your abilities are within physical focus limitless. You have merely limited yourselves as an element of your beliefs, but as you are also moving into acceptance of your beliefs, you are widening your awareness and you are allowing yourselves to view how many more abilities you hold and how very creative you are, and not creating your limitations with such severity. Those elements in your reality that have been thought to be impossible are not impossible!” 1

    #304

    Írtak was playing with the dragon twins in the carved woodstones field. It was mostly faced shaped petrified wood that had been carved surely when it was still wood. The faces were quite hypnotic and made him feel often sleepy, but with the dragons he was feeling all his senses enhanced and sharpened. :face-glasses:

    The dragons were growing fast, hatched only a few days ago, they were already bigger than his father… He knew from Malvina that they could take whatever form they wanted, but he’d always thought that their power were developing from nothing to … something… but apparently they were already fully aware. Their leather skin was glowing emerald green, blended with some purple pink shades, or was it the contrary. It was changing so quickly. He was wondering what they were eating, because he wasn’t the one who was giving them any food. And still they were so big.
    Did they have a “real” form? Whatever that meant.

    One of the dragon gave him a mischievous glance and before he could anticipate what would happen, he was facing a growling troll :yahoo_time_out:. The troll was running right to him, seemingly crushing with his heavy body all the fragile woodstoned faces.

    All his attention was on the troll and he didn’t hear the man coming.
    And now the troll was freezed running and jumping forever… Írtak’s head was like a big storm of boulders falling from the sky. Growling, drumbling apart…

    — You have strange games with your dragons.
    — …

    He was gaping at the man… his skin was bluish with pink also and sometimes a bit of yellow.

    — Who are you?
    — Don’t you recognize me? :face-grin:

    Írtak tried to remember something. had he ever met that man before?

    — Oh right, it’s our first meeting… from your point of view. I’d forgotten that. But you see, for me our first meeting is in your future.
    — …

    Írtak was still gaping at the man, this strange skin of him, it was so ambrulin, that color he’d already see somewhere… was it in a dream?
    The man looked at him, and he felt for a moment a warm fuzzy feeling in his body… not particularly located in any part of it… and he would have… no, it was even in the woodstoned faces around him… how could he feel that?

    — Your dragons are wanting to take part in the fun, the man smiled. I’m going to let them go, as I’m not staying either.
    — Who are you? managed Írtak.

    :yahoo_alien:

    — I’m your father…
    :yahoo_alien:
    HAHAHAHAHAH! No actually that’s a private joke… I’m Andrimiñ (AndruhMiiñ?) we’ll meet again in a few years of your time. Your dragons are really interesting then, and so are you.

    Saying that, the time began to flow again in the right direction, the troll was still running toward him, but he suddenly slowed down and stopped, shape shifting into a bluish boy, with a face so similar to Andrimiñ.

    — Where’s the funny man? he said.

    #302
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Well I think I can answer that for you, said a small round green blobby creature, in response to Roselyn’s question. The creature had actually been sitting there all the time, however everyone had assumed it was some sort of exotic plant.

      Let me introduce myself, I am Frowdup, yes an unusual name I know. I am a long time and faithful friend to the dear little Fairy Princess, who is rather friendless at the moment owing to her extraordinarily antisocial behaviour , such as that which you see so sadly exhibited before you.

      Frowdup cleared his throat in an important and significant sort of way. I will try and relate this sad tale as succinctly and precisely as possible, he said.

      Our dear little Fairy Princess was the head Fairy Princess of the Hot Pink and Sky Blue bands of the North East Fairies from the Land of the Long White Cloud. Each Fairy Princess in her initiate years has a witch assigned to her, to help her develop her magical abilities. Our dear little Fairy Princess was designated one of the 13 Witches of Loathing, Whanga, from the far North of the North Island of the Land of the Long White Cloud.

      Dear Fairy Princess had her own cave which she took admirable pains to make sure was always fully stocked with sand. You know about the sand of course? I can see you are a woman of great stature, no offense intended, I mean I can see you are tremendously well versed in the ways of magic yourself, so you will know that some of the more basic ways of magic involve a symbolic representation of magical symbols, so to speak, such as sand and wands and whatnot sort of thingies. Really completely unnecessary, of course, as you will know, however for her, each grain of sand was the exact and precise equivalent of one wish, activated by a determined wave of her magic wand and the words abracadabra. Yes, I know, very primitive, but she is a very young initiate, although I will say she showed great potential had Whanga the Witch of Loathing not managed to convince her of her own lack of worth.

      Whanga was constantly and every single moment whispering in the ear of the Fairy Princess magic spells of self loathing. My young friend lacked the expertise to counteract these powerful spells and began to believe them. One day she was so sad at her own horridness that she could bear it no longer and put a spell on herself. This enabled her to curl up into a deep sleep of forgetfulness for a rather long time, enabling Whanga to easily procure said wand. In addition to this Whanga managed to obtain the source of the music which the Fairy Princess felt she required in order to help her to fly. When the dear little Fairy Princess awakened from her sleep, she was devastated by the loss of her wand and music, and still convinced of her own worthlessness you see this poor creature before you today.

      The poor creature had stopped sobbing and was glaring at Frowdup.

      #298

      The City, year 2257

      Janice had just awoken from a strange dream, where she was watching big round cabbages being harvested in what looked like Quintin’s father garden. They were all firmly rooted on a black irrigation pole across the garden, and people were using strange devices to turn them all delicately and pick them afterwards. In the dream, there were black puppies too, sleeping in the straw of a kind of hut nearby. And she had seen another creature, and had been surprised first because it was unlike anything she had ever met, even in dreams. It was hairless and brown as soft mud, and was hiding in the neighbour’s garden. Then it had crossed and came to play with her…

      Janice was lost in her thoughts strolling on the way to the common dome, when she met Rodney, her father’s friend.
      They had been recently trying with her father Jacob, and also Qixi to connect with their shifting focuses of the Ancients, two centuries and half before their time.
      Some of them, they had found, had been playing a sort of game of story-telling and clue-sowing… (Janice was laughing as her father’s friend, the scientist Arkandin, always insisted on seesawing instead)

      Perhaps her dream was telling her that the crop was ripe, and it was time to harvest some from it. She told her dream to Rodney. All at once, he was quite excited and they started to feel they wanted to chat more freely. So they went into one of the Medraw Caps that was available and soon imagined a comfortable environment for themselves to explore more.

      Janice could hear Al or Quintin complain about how things were getting confusing.
      She tried to convey to both of them that they could be excited about it, as it was expanding their understanding, but they weren’t very receptive.

      ~~~

      Somewhere Al was saying to Becky
      — The more you try to fix it, the more confused I am
      — Hahahahah yes! Becky was answering, I guess so! Ahahahah! Al, what a fabulous dance of confusion we do… The Confundo Tango
      — Ahahah, yes!

      Al started again to moan:
      — So who’s dead, who’s the shapeshifter? Who’s the human, who’s the cat? :-??

      (Rodney was laughing, as for him, he could accept the confusion as much easier, letting him free to wander around!)

      Illi was a woman, a shapeshifter who shape-shifted into a cat, then, she died. Becky was saying (Rodney added mentally “Now, she is disengaged” as he knew that “death” was a confusing word.) She was an archaeologist
      — Okay, that’s cool, that’s what I thought, Al acquiesced. Then thought back of what was said of her and wondered… Anyway, it will probably find a perfect answer …
      Becky nodded
      — I got lost myself when two Illis appeared, and a grip-thing as well
      — Because I didn’t want the grip-thing to be dead! Al couldn’t help but laugh. That would have been too easy, like wiggling out. Not using your imagination within the context of objective imagery to sort out “things”…

      ~~~

      While Rodney and Janice were seeing that their other focuses were kind of stuck in their explanation, they had time freeze and both decided to come back to their “now” to start from their understanding.
      A funny thought had come to Janice, that she shared with Rodney.
      — Oh, the funny thing you know, about Becky having written to Sean
      Rodney nodded. Janice continued:
      — It just appeared in my mind just moments ago, at the same time you (well, Rafaela) inserted into the story of Malvina. That Becky would have been asking Sean something, and that perhaps it would have helped him talk to his father in the future.

      — Well, that Sean is SUCH AN ENIGMA! bumped Rodney a bit excited by the implications.
      — What do you mean? asked Janice, who just remembered that Sean Doran has a cousin named Dorean.
      — Who is he? Where is he? was asking Rodney now.
      Rodney was having a hard time remembering what had been inserted yet in the story about him.

      So Janice manifested the Wrick family tree in front of them, so that he could see better. She started by manifesting an acorn, then threw in on the grass, and it sprung forth in a little sapling with signs hanging from its branches.

      — Well, it’s all in the script, answered Janice, he’s Lord Wrick’s son.
      — Oh boy, I am in trouble again for not keeping up with the facts! Rodney sighed, and laughed…
      Janice laughed “So that you can surprise yourself again!”

      Rodney felt thankful for the sumafiness of Janice who was always prompt to display helpful hallucinations and reminders.

      Janice stopped the growth of the family tree for a moment and started to comment it.
      — See, in Becky’s time of the reality play, Sean is Lord’s Wrick son, and has just lost his wife Margaret, and got his two young children around their 10s.
      — When is Becky’s time then? Rodney wondered, I hadn’t though of that…
      Becky’s time for the reality play is around 2033…
      Then Janice had the tree grow again, and sprout more branches from Sean’s children:
      — …Now, Sean is the grand-father of the twins, except than the twin’s time is around 2057 if it had not changed yet. It’s so carefully woven, but it’s fun how it effortlessly came to fit in.
      TRUST AND ALLOWING AND GOING WITH THE FLOW cried Rodney and Janice in unison, in the realisation of how well all this was.

      Rodney was beginning to remember it all.
      — I just remember the part about Sean, so he is still a bit of a mystery
      — Yes, absolutely
      — We don’t really know do we why Hilarion didn’t mention him
      — Oh, there’s also the Margaret newspaper thing… Janice fumbled in her memory to find the proper link that would display the image of the newspaper cut just at the right of the family tree. Adding with a wink “with more dates to get bearings”
      — Ahahah, I’d love to have pocketfuls of ball bearings said Rodney who manifested a pocketful to distract him from the load of information. OH YES! he cried, I had forgetten about this! What an incredibly HUGE story this is…

      Rodney was squinting his dream eyes
      — So, Sean was into humanitarian effort after 2001…
      — His father actually I think, said Janice. He was a bit too young.
      — Oh OK, I misread, that’s hard to read!

      Then, all of a second, Rodney erupted in an uproarious laugh
      AHAHAHA, I had just forgotten to de-hallucinate these pince-nez spectacles! Now, it is much easier to read!
      Janice was laughing so hard, she thought she would shatter the hallucination with the wobbles of the soundless sounds.
      Then she added:

      Sean is born around 2000, a bit before.
      — OK, maybe he went to help the Tuaregs, Rodney was accessing some information now. Maybe he was the one who put the mummy in the locked room that India found.
      — You know I had something funny in store for the mummy mystery, Janice couldn’t help but laugh again. I imagined we could have inserted Old Manon, coming down to secretly drink from her old malt whiskey’s flask, and finding them messing up with her old dear stuffed cat…
      — Maybe the mummy was the same one that Dory saw in the oblong hole in the ground outside the cave, Rodney was still accessing flickering images swirling around his head. And Sean was there helping the Tuaregs and moved it to safety.
      Of course, years previously, Illi Fergusson, the archeologist had buried the mummy there too for safe keeping.

      Now, Janice was hooked:
      — Was it where Illi learned about shapeshifting tricks from the old tribe?
      Rodney noticed Janice’s funny remark and laughed before continuing:
      — The Tuaregs were conducting secret coleslaw experiments in the desert. In combination with sound and irrigation techniques, they were going to run the entire Sahara into a broccoli field.

      Janice was amazed at the cabbage “coincidence” and irrigation stuff with her dream of that morning. Of course she knew there where probably mis-interpretation of the imagery coming from Rodney’s visions, but something made sense.
      — Around which year? she asked
      — Arrggh I don’t know!… Then, taking a breath of dream air, Rodney said “1923”. When Illi learned shape-shifting trick, 1923.
      — It makes sense, said Janice who was now thinking of other dispersed informations about Illi Fergusson.
      — Yes, she learned from Dashine Ashara… Although who that is, I don’t yet know.
      — Wow, said Janice. She had felt a connection with the “da’sheen” sound. She continued: somewhere, Illi Fergusson has said: “my parents were aristocrats”
      — Yes, answered Rodney who was accessing again, they were, and they knew the Wildes .
      — And it was said too: “[…] a nurturing presence that reminded Illi of the maid she and her parents had in their cottage in South Africa”… like her parents were traveling a lot.
      — Ah, South Africa! Illi’s parents emigrated to South Africa with Sir Abingdon Portfellow, an elderly scholar on ancient artifacts and embalming.
      — Seems she knew John Lubbock too, said Janice again, reviving old data banks of information. Dates seem okay, so if she was around 30 in the Tuareg adventure, she could have met him.
      — Wow, said Rodney, this is even more interesting…

      “But we may sit at home and yet be in all quarters of the earth.” Janice had just summoned the voice of the naturalist and archaeologist. Rodney applauded “Lubbock said that? cool quote!”.
      — Yes, like Illi’s quote, which was from him “What we see depends mainly on what we look for”. I wonder if that’s one of your (Illi’s) overlapping focuses, said Janice

      — Well, Illi didnt stay long in South Africa with boring old whatever his name was, Rodney pursued
      — Yes, she was young with her parents. They were traveling…

      They were both amazed at the magical cooperation they were doing at that moment. Janice would have loved to share all of that with Qixi and Jacob, but probably their energies were present at the moment too, though not focused here.

      She then remembered something else:
      — Oh, and there is something else! Quintin’s dream of the woman detective. Let me fetch it she said, summoning now Quintin’s memory to talk to them.
      … by night, near a museum in London, in the 1920s. She was investigating a case of a strange disappearance near a small replicate of an Egyptian pyramid that had been put here for display. There had been an exposition of ancient artifacts in the museum, which had been recently unearthed by a team of archaeologists and graciously lent by Egypt’s officials. Strangely enough, the woman detective feels linked to the story, and is probably Dory
      Date fits again, she said in awe.
      — Perfect! said Rodney. She was of course Dory too, but in that focus she was Illi Fergusson… he slowed down, then said No! wait! The detective was another one of my focuses. The archeologist who stole the mummy for safekeeping was Illi.
      — Hmmm
      — Hmmm
      — So you are both the thief and the detective, the one who creates mystery for yourself, how interesting, giggled Janice.
      — Yes, and not only that Janice! Rodney was taking a mysterious air… I am the mummy too!

      Janice bust out laughing imagining Rodney in bandages. Yes, of course!
      Then, she had a name come with that: Apsh’un Shet she said, very self-absorbed.
      Now, that was Rodney’s turn to burst out laughing.
      — “I am not sure about that!”
      — Doubting my insights… mmm, how rude… Janice frowned then laughed again.
      — If you call me that, I may have to make you out to have a speech impediment
      — Sounds a good Egyptian name for me though, seems it means “Light of the Dawn
      — Does it? Oh that sounds nice…
      — Well, in some Egyptian dialect, yes. She was a Princess…
      — Hahaha! Reminds me of Aspen Shit. Rodney doubted Janice could be serious about that name, but Janice was now the one to be accessing some information.
      — Bit bossy Princess
      — Which dynasty?
      III rd, answered Janice, who fumbled in links of consciousness to find some timeline to project for them.
      — What year?
      Janice projected the timeline below then said
      — I’d say around 2657 B.C., in Ancients way of telling time.

      They both marveled at the splendid team work they had been doing, and hoped that the other focuses involved would be able to get some parts of their insights too.

      Rodney was seeing something else
      — There is also, a very fascinating link between Tassili in the Sahara and Egypt which is a mystery AND there is a connection with Egypt and Scotland too…
      Illi the gripshawk comes from the mysterious land of the Sands, south of the map fragment
      — We may unravel more than we think… Illi is an other dimensional focus of the Illi essence…
      — Yes she is. She is a connection too, being “lost” in the land of dragons after hopping through traveling portals…
      — Exactly
      — And they communicated because they are helping each other
      — Which is why she doesn’t always ‘fit’ into this reality’s energy configuration
      — And they have some difficulties at times with translations of other dimensional stuff
      — Yes! resulting in confusion!

      And they both laughed again, looking at the great tapestry of clues that was woven before their dream eyes.

      #296

      Al had always hated amusement parks.
      Funny, he noticed as he was always the one telling “be playful”…

      Anyway, Becky had insisted to bring them all in that new big traveling amusement park that had settled in Central Park, NY this year.
      Hopefully, Heavens know how, resourceful Becky Pooh had obtained VIP tickets for the opening, and it would be a very private visit, without too many people.

      Now, that could perhaps be interesting… After all, the whole entertainment park had been sponsored by Becky’s friends, the Wrick family, and Al and the others were dying of curiosity to meet the top of the crop, so to speak…

      #288

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

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

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

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

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

      #283
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Laughter is Priceless’ .

        Hey Genie! Look at this. India Louise held a gold locket up to the lamp. It’s inscribed on the back, look: laughter is priceless.
        What’s on the front? Eugenia asked, moving closer.
        The locket was egg shaped and had an unusual south pacific motif on the top, and an inscription in comic sans font on the bottom. Open it, Indy, see if there’s anything inside. Eugenia shivered. OOOhh someone just walked over my grave, she said, shuddering again. It’s weird in here, eh.
        Yeah, bit scarey really, India Louise giggled, fumbling with the locket catch.

        #1471
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          [Sticky] means it won’t disappear below new discussions that may pop up every now and then…
          Sticks to the top ;))

          #272

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

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

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

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

          That creature’s made off with it!

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

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

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

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

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

          #271
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            And yet….and yet….it’s so familiar! Bill climbed out of bed, eyes fixed on the stone carved head on top of the tallboy, and went over for a closer look. He reached up and touched the cool smooth stone, and then leaned back against the bedpost, stroking his chin, transfixed.

            I must be dreaming, he thought, this just doesn’t make sense. And yet…..I’ve seen this before! The images flitted through Bill’s mind, not just this stone head, but other stone heads, all different but all linked somehow, and all so familiar.

            Bill didn’t hear the soft tapping on the door at first. Bill! psstt, Bill! Open the door, it’s me, India……

            #270

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

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

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

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

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

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

            ***

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

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

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

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

            Haha, he had felt her smile.

            ***

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

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

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

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

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

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

            “Are you looking for something” a voice said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

            #265

            After Sanso heard the voice “the reason you are looking for is right under your nose” he thought he had better go and have another look at that smelly, well was it smelly? hmmm perhaps not, just a bit mouldy, old cape. Just in case it was a clue and he had missed it.

            He was surprised and delighted to see Arona, who was still sitting quietly meditating.

            Oh, goodness, said Arona startled, Who are you?

            I am Sanso and some people call me a wretched outcast madman wanderer, and Sanso laughed heartily.

            Arona laughed too, out of politeness and a bit hesitantly, unsure if Sanso was joking or not. Well your words not mine she said

            Sanso laughed heartily again which Arona found a bit odd. My words indeed he said And who are you and what brings you to explore this cave?

            I am Arona, and this is Mandrake. I popped in to find the source of the beautiful music I could hear, but my overall mission is learning about magic.

            Sanso had stopped listening and was gazing at the round glass ball filled with the sand shapes.

            Good Lord! he gasped, Is that a sabulmantium ! And a very early model too. This is a classic! The later models are much more complex, this is very fundamental, but beautifully made.

            Oh really, well it is great fun

            Sanso explained to Arona at length the more technical details of how a sabulmantium worked, and how it could be used like a compass.

            Fascinating she said, and Mandrake rolled his eyes.

            #261

            In searching for a sheet of paper to do some sketches of images going through his mind, Bill found an old poem he had started a long time ago, when he was feeling like he was completely transforming himself. He had not finished the poem, but had kept it all along…

            It said:

            I’ve been wandering through the valleys of death
            Where time knows no ending and all is gray
            And shadows seek nothing but oblivion itself
            In mazes of mist, minds’ errands led astray…

            Perhaps it was time to let go of useless things, Bill thought to himself.

            He watched the paper slowly smoldering and shrinking and falling to black and white cinders into the hearth.

            :fleuron:

            Before going to sleep that night, Quintin had the sensation of Janice’s presence. He was surprised, because she was no longer the little girl he had seen at times, but she was a very pretty young woman, with dark wavy hair.

            She had giggled at his surprise, telling him that yes, she was catching up with him…

            :fleuron:

            The City, year 2255 (%)

            Today was Janice’s birthday, but not her birthday as the Ancients, two and half a century from her time, would have counted it. It was counted from the time of the conception, as the future parents in this time were fully aware of the agreements they would have with the soul they would decide to give birth to.

            It was a reminder of this agreement between the parents and the child that was celebrated, and not the actual birth date.

            Janice had felt Cyprus’ presence quite strongly, and she decided to let herself open to the subjective communication. She was conversing with her friend Qixi, and sent her some energy to let her know she would probably remove her attention for a few moments, knowing she would be accepting.

            When she closed her eyes, she could immediately feel herself engulfed by the strong yet smooth energy of Cyprus; it was like being kissed by a swarm of blue sparkling butterflies.

            Then she opened her eyes.

            She was in an ancient classroom, with Cyprus focused as a teacher figure. Cyprus was seated behind her desk and came at once to great Janice.

            — Good morning!
            — Good morning Cyprus, you wanted to say something to me?
            — In actuality, you wanted me to tell you something, answered Cyprus with a mysterious smile.
            — Yes, I thought so. Is it about what I am choosing to do as an activity?
            — Correct.
            — You are aware that I want to be creating of worlds, and give them to people that would have commissioned them…
            — Yes, I am aware. And you wanted me to highlight some misconceptions about that.
            — Oh, misconceptions?
            — Yes. As you know, with these worlds that you create, you have infinite potential of explorations. You also know that they are not independent from the rest, even when you take great care of encapsulating them in an energy field. And as such, they are not cut-off from yourself, as soon as you deliver them.
            — It feels like a tremendous responsibility.
            — It is, and it is not. The responsibility is to yourself, as always. But, I wanted you to be aware that you hold some responsibility, to examine your own injections into these worlds that you create, so that you can be neutralizing what is not desired, and not merely hiding it deeper inside the world itself.
            — OK, I will do that…
            — Ahaha, there is another thing, my dear.
            — Oooh…
            — You also wanted me to make sure you understood what I meant.
            — Ahahaha, I see. Wiggling out won’t be as easy as I thought, Janice said with a smile. So, is it the reason for this classroom?
            — Nothing is hidden from you, as always.

            So Janice took a look at the sheet of paper on top of her own school desk.

            — I’ll be around if you need me, reassured Cyprus.
            — Thank you, said Janice

            The paper was like a spot test, with a few questions on it.

            :fleuron2:

            Study on a Few Contradictory Beliefs

            1. GUILT

            a. An old lord has lost contact with his son, because of harsh things said in the past.

            Write a short story about him realizing how guilt is not effective, and how past can be changed from the point of present by direct action.

            b. Detail the main beliefs you can see associated with this action of guilt.

            2. FEAR

            a. A man chooses to be disengaging by drowning in a river. During his transition, he faces his fears, helped in that by a friendly spirit. The fears take the forms of a forest of trees, all similar, with branches and malicious roots extending to him. In his previous life, the man thought he was a fool, as an excuse to stand out of the numb crowd. But now he faces this crowd again, only to be able to go on his journey and let go.

            Write a short paragraph about his journey. Place yourself from the perspective of both him and the friendly spirit guiding him through his fears, and see how he helps himself in realizing he does not need to push the fears away, and that they can disappear easily.

            b. Detail the beliefs associated with his madness, that he needs to let go of in order to be crossing the forest, and go to the Bridge of Daffoldils that leads to his cave of Self.

            DUPLICITY

            In association with the last two examples, detail how duplicity (belief in good versus bad) is influencing of each of the actions, and can be neutralised by accepting self and trusting that you shall not betray yourself.

            :fleuron:

            Janice gave her paper to Cyprus, who took it and held it for a moment, evaluating the answers.

            Cyprus then made it burst into a bluish dancing flame, and when the paper had disappeared, smiled at Janice lovingly.

            #259

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

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

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

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

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

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

            ***

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

            ***

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

            ***

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

            #258
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              India Louise sat at the end of the extraordinarily long oak dinner table. A tiny figure engrossed in some drawing. The morning sun shone in the window, brightening the otherwise dark room.

              Lord Wrick walked in, not seeming to see India Louise at first. He held a letter in his hand, and some old newspaper clippings. He sat down heavily at the table, opened the letter, and read it. After reading it, he sat staring into space for a long while.

              India Louise looked up from her drawing.

              What is wrong Grandpa? You look sad. She walked over to him and hugged him. See look at this. Look at my drawing of a flower, perhaps that will cheer you up. The painter Bill has been showing me how to use these paint sticks and also how to use my mind to help make the painting have life.

              It is beautiful India Louise.

              What did the letter say Grandpa. Why is it making you so sad?

              It is just an old letter, India Louise.

              Yes it looks very old. Was it bad news?

              Just reminds me of things I wish I had said a long time ago, said her great grandfather, Regret is an awful curse

              The little girl hugged him again. Yes it sounds awful. I think I will draw another flower for you grandpa.

              He smiled. Thank you India Louise. I will be back soon. I will put the letter away now.

              Yes, put it away now. I can’t see any point looking at it if it makes you sad, and then come and see the flower I will draw for you.

              Lord Wrick walked over to the bookshelves and reached up. There was a tin on the top shelf. He opened the tin and got out an old key.

              He walked down the passage way, to the right and then down some stairs leading to the cellar. There was a door, which had not been opened for some time, and he had to use some force to get the key to work in the lock.

              The room was dark, musty, mostly full of what would seem to be junk, which had been thrown there when people did not know what else was to be done with it. There was an old chest of drawers against one wall. He pulled open the top draw, fingering gently some of the items, more old letters, a feather, some pebbles, a diary, some old paintings and photos. He knew each object had a life of it’s own, memories which create worlds. He added the letter and the newspaper article.

              As he left the room, he wondered whether to lock the door again, and decided not to. He had a funny feeling within himself as he made this decision to leave it open, a shift, as though his simple decision had changed things, somehow.

              Silly old fool he thought, laughing at himself. He would go and see the flower that India Louise was drawing for him.

              #257

              When Cuthbert came back to bed after having had his cup of cocoa, India Louise was awake too.

              — I saw him too, she said to her brother.
              — I don’t want to see him again, these books are scarey.
              — It’s intriguing, I want to know more, India Louise said, egging on him.
              — When I close my eyes, I got all these roots and webs crawling, it’s mad… I can’t…
              — He has found a friend to help him cross the Dark Forest to the traveling portal.
              — A friend?
              — Yes, a friend. She’s special.
              — Tell me more…
              — She’s a white unicorn, only him can see her.
              — Wow…
              — She’s named Mirÿnda. She’s glowing white, and he hears her speak in his mind, she shows him the way through the forest…

              :fleuron:

              — Mirÿnda?! A fool in saffron robe gallivanting in the forest with a unicorn now? That’s all you could find?

              Tina was taken aback…

              — Well, I could have used a grizzly bear too, now I think of it… Al answered flippantly.
              — Tsk tsk, replied Tina a bit annoyed. And why not a humpback whale, or an arctic lemming, or even… why, a leopard gecko for that matter?… And who’s that Mÿrinda anyway?

              :fleuron:

              — I don’t know any Amanda, Fiona said to Quintin that night. Don’t really know many of Michaela & Elias’ students. She’s Yann friend, right?

              Quintin had answered distractedly, as he was engrossed by his last painting…

              Later that night, he couldn’t find sleep, as the dragon he was painting was still expanding his web of roots and branches in his mind’s eye. He opened his computer to see that Malika was online.

              She told him something that night, something Quintin found abysmally profound and perplexing about his dragon…

              Dragons can shape shift, into anything they want to. There are several doorways/portals that they use for travel into this dimension. Malika said
              — Yes, said Quintin, this drawing has something to do with these portals initially, but I struggle a bit to represent them…
              Yes, so you can just depict it to be flowing, liquid-like energy in the center, when the portal is active.
              There are some that are being shone to me on the bottom of the ocean floor.
              What is being shown to me, is a dragon with a tail much like a mermaid, and hands with webs, big yellow eyes…

              Wow he had thought, she can really see.

              :fleuron:

              Jadra, guided by Mirÿnda, had been moving quite easily through the Dark Forest. Of course, he wouldn’t have dared touch the holy creature, and so he was walking hesitantly behind, taking care of where his bare feet were touching the ground.

              The Dark Forest was bordering the Marshes of Doom, and at times the limits between the two were almost indiscernible. It was said that every foul, err… fool… damn,…

              — Will you stop being so buffoonish! raved Tina again.
              — Perhaps I should let someone else continue then? said Albert.
              — Well, that’s entertaining, replied Becky mechanically.
              — OK. I’ll jump in, said Samuel, with a wide grin.

              It was said that every full moon, the Mighty Shrimp would come from the shores of the Southern Seas and haunt the Marshes in search for souls to be turned into krill, so that he could be the WALRUS (Wrathful Almighty Lord Ruler of Undersea Souls).

              Well, at least, that’s what Jadra had heard in his youth, when you tend to believe everything… So he was weary of the hiki-hiki sounds in the night that might have been the dreaded call of the Mighty Shrimp.

              :fleuron:

              Quintin was having a strange dream. He was a huge whale, along with another one he knew was Yann, swimming powerfully in the vast ocean, passing by strange creatures that could have been mermaids or improbable fishes, when his gaze was attracted by a stream of glittering particles of light.

              The lights were enticing, he would have said even “mouth-watering”, had he not had the baleens full of water already…

              :fleuron:

              Salome was moving through layers of consciousness, something humans focused in physical dimensions would have found difficult to grasp, as it was nothing that could be easily conceptualized. She was, as best as she could put, like a huge cloud of lightness coalescing into a form, when she decided to project her aspect.

              Taking form into a dimension required no effort in actuality, the consensus reality created by all the essences focused into the reality making quite a strong pull. She only needed to move her attention to what she wanted to manifest. Altering her reality slowly around her, to move closer to the desired effect.

              She was not only traveling through time and space, but also through multitudinous layers of dimensions unnoticed to many humans —in fact, she was not really moving, but that was a convenient way of telling things for humans…

              She said “humans”, because she was fond of this particular dimension, where she’d had lots of experiences.

              When moving through the dimensions, it had her projected focus of attention constantly and naturally adapt its form to the psychological environment.

              Here, she had just moved through a honey-drops dimension, where focuses were drops of golden honey-like substance, and as she moved through it, her own aspect had changed to that of a sand-glass shaped drop of honey.

              This was great fun for her to see the ease with which she could focus into this infinite variety of adventures, but for now, her pull was to some more complex physical dimensions.

              She started to move again, de-focusing, past the lazy honey drops.

              The honey drops were now shape-shifting to a whole immense field of snake-like strings of light, and they all started to converge to a direction. She knew the feeling. She followed the strong pull.

              #254
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Bill, the itinerant artist commissioned to paint portraits of the Wrick family, was uneasy. While he’d been staying in the castle with the eccentric family, he’d lost all track of linear time. It had been altogether too confusing, and his head was spinning. Manon the cook had sent a tray up to his room, with a pot of Earl grey tea, and a plate of Yorkshire parkin for his supper, when he’d claimed to be developing a mysterious ailment and begged leave to retire to his room.

                Bill splashed some malt whiskey into his cup of tea. A good long sleep was what he needed, and with a sigh he drained his cup and climbed into bed, pulling the heavy eiderdown up over his chin. He lay there for awhile staring into space, not really aware of his thoughts. An owl hooted from the oak tree outside his window. Twit whoohooo twit whoo hooooooo…

                Bill blinked and then frowned. On the top of the Queen Anne highboy facing the end of his bed was a large carved stone face. How odd, he thought, I don’t recall seeing that there before.

                #253

                Everywhere Jadra went he could feel hostile eyes upon him. He knew why of course; he knew they were jealous because he had been favoured by the Gods. So he kept his hand safely hidden, wrapped in his shirt

                Jadra had a plan. He put his shirt back on and pulled the sleeve on the left arm down as far as it would go, till his left hand could no longer be seen. He modelled a new hand roughly out of twigs and plants and walked to the river. On the way he shouted at the top of his voice CURSED HAND, YOU HAVE GIVEN ME NOTHING BUT GRIEF. I WOULD RATHER NOT HAVE A HAND THAN HAVE SUCH A WICKED, EVIL APPENDAGE ATTACHED TO MY BODY.

                After shouting such sentiments till his voice was hoarse and he knew he had drawn sufficient attention he threw the hand in the river. He had cunningly weighted the hand with pebbles he had found in a cave so it would sink to the bottom of the river.

                GOOD RIDDANCE HAND. MAY YOU ROT IN THE BOTTOM OF THIS RIVER AND NEVER AGAIN INFLICT YOUR EVIL ON ANY OTHER POOR UNSUSPECTING SOUL.

                HA! He thought, tremendously pleased with himself for executing such a perfectly clever plan. That should throw the evil hounds off the scent of Jadra Iamamad.

                He felt he was not far from the cave now.

                #250

                The boy was approaching in a manner he obviously wanted to be threatening, but the little girl was still giggling unafraid.

                He took his most growling voice.

                “Don’t you fear DRRRAAAGONSS?” he blew in her face.

                “Hahaha. What’s Dregguns?” she said with difficulties as if it was her first attempt in pronouncing the thunderous name.

                He took a deep breath as if to answer the question and stopped.

                She was looking at him with such innocence and friendship in her eyes.

                “You really don’t know what dragons are?”

                He drew closer and his gaze changed. And he looked surprised as if he was eventually noticing something important.

                “Oh hoho! I understand now why you seem such an unafraid little girl…”

                “I’m not little, I’m five.” she said grumpily. But she laughed as readily after that :))

                “It appears I’m in the middle of one of your dreams. What’s your name?”

                “I’m Chiara.”

                #249
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Fiona was feeling a bit weird.

                  She was wondering what was real. Was she real? Wow I am starting to sound like Dory she said and then laughed

                  Oh my goodness and now I am laughing out loud and talking to myself. Jarrod does that and they put him on medication for it.

                  And were her online friends real? I mean what evidence did she have. There were these pebbles of course Yarn said he was sending, but where were they?

                  The other day she had been talking to her friends via the internet, and she found herself telling this ridiculous bird story, which basically boiled down to “I saw a bird and a cracked egg shell”

                  AHAHAHAHAHA

                  Ooops better stop laughing out loud so much. But at the time of seeing the bird it had felt really significant, as though something of importance was being communicated to her.

                  And the online story they had all been writing — well was it all of them, or was it really just her writing it? — whatever, it was getting weirder and weirder and quite rude at times too actually. Or was it??? Was that her imagination again?

                  And lately she kept winking. Good grief, I never wink, what is all that about? What the does a wink mean anyway?

                  Fiona patted her dog George. He was so funny and uncomplicated. All he wanted to do was eat and play and have as much fun as possible… so cool. Actually that is all I want really too, she decided, and felt much better.

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