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    In reply to: Synchronicity


      Finn dreamt of the number 5, although she was unable to remember the context. Upon awakening the thought popped into her head that it was the 5th day of the 5th month today.


        Bea stretched and yawned, and threw the bedcovers back. The early morning sun was streaming in the windows, catching the coloured glass bottles and crystals on the windowsill and making rainbow mice scamper over the floor. Horus, the Siamese cat, crouched with tail swishing, ready to pounce.

        Bea sat up and swung her legs out of bed, feeling around with her feet for her slippers; a rainbow mouse crawled up her leg.

        “Ouch! For fuck’s sake, Horus!”

        Horus stared at Bea, unperturbed, and then yowled, asking for breakfast.

        “Come on then Horus, let’s go and put the coffee on, are you hungry? Lovely day again! I wonder if Leonora’s up yet; doubt it! Come on then, hut hut!”

        Bea wasn’t sure why she always said ‘Hut Hut’ to the cat, but Horus seemed to know what she meant, and followed her into the kitchen.

        “Oh, it’s Eggleton painting day today, Horus!” Bea said to the cat, noticing the big basket of eggs on the kitchen table, For the Eggleton Hunt on Thursday.

        Horus yowled and twisted himself through Bea’s legs.

        “Ok Ok!” she replied, and opened a can of BocaBits with Atun. For herself, she made a large mug of black coffee with plenty of sugar, and lit a cigarette.

        With the third lungful of smoke, Bea recalled a strange snatch of dream, and started to sing:

        One man went to mow , went to mow a meadow,
        One man two man and his dog
        Went to mow a meadow……

        “Oh!” Bea said “I wrote something down in the night!” She went to the bedroom to get her dream journal.

        “One man went to mow scattered lettuces.”

        One man went to mow scattered lettuces? HUH? That doesn’t make any sense. I wonder if Leo can work it out, she’s good with clues…

        Leo! LEO! OY, Leo, whaddya make of this here dream snap-phrase then?” Bea barged into Leo’s bedroom and prodded the sleeping bulk.

        “Wha wha whazzat!” Leo woke up with a start. “Bloody ‘ell, Bea! You woke me up! I was having a lovely dream about rabbits, an’ all……”

        One man went to mow scattered lettuces; what do you make of that? “ Bea asked, as she plonked herself down on Leo’s bed with a bounce that made the bed springs squeak.

        Leo frowned, instantly awake now and intrigued with the clue. To Bea she said, “Get me a cup of coffee and a fag, and I’ll google it.”


        Horus, having disinterestedly licked some of the juice off his Bocabits, jumped onto Leo’s lap as she typed the word lettuce into the search window. He jumped onto the desk, knocking a well worn paperback copy of Seth Speaks onto the floor, and on impulse, Leo added the words ‘Horus’ and ‘Seth’.

        Bea, Leo was laughing, Come and look at this .


          On his way to work, Yann was singing. These last few days had been harsh to his self appreciation process, he had lots of judgments against everything he was doing. He had found it quite exhausting and quite detrimental to his relationships with his friends.

          Well, despite the fact that Archibald puppet had told him about his bucket… or his garbage he couldn’t remember, and not to forget to empty it regularly, he had been submerged with stimuli from everywhere and from everybody, to the point that he wouldn’t allow a single smile inside himself.

          Yesterday, they had received their furniture with Yurick, and in the process of assembling them and putting them into place, rearranging the configuration of the apartment, he found himself appreciating of his new home.
          When he woke up that night, it was 5:12am. He couldn’t sleep, and he wouldn’t wake Yurick up. He had noticed several times that he had many associations with this hour of the day… like a burden, a new day of work soon approaching all that crap again and so on…

          All he had to do was just… yes like that, he was appreciating his own being. Himself lying in the bed, the breathing movement of his friend beside him, still and relaxed.

          When the alarm clock was about to ring himself out of the bed, he was already awoken and he cut it off before it could awake his beloved. It was 7:57am.
          On his way to the bathroom, Arona the cat was quite demanding of caresses… he took some time and appreciated deeply the contact of her soft fur, long and warm silky hairs.

          Thus, Yann was singing, and when he arrived at the crossroad just before his workplace, there was that man… and their gaze met surreptitiously. And the man started singing. Yann smiled.


            Al woke up from a series of lucid dreams, interspersed with false awakening in which he was in the same space arrangement, but visibly another time space or even dimension… He was quite familiar now with these stuff, and could remember them well, but still had doubt about the implications of the strange imageries he was getting glimpses of.
            It was like his tatami (because at this time, Al was finding more comfortable to sleep on the rice-straw mattress) was a flying carpet with its own volition, and Albert, like some modern-time Aladdin, was finding himself plunged right into new horizons.

            Last vision had almost made him blush of the deranged aspects of his mind. Sure he was finding Becky rather attractive (who wouldn’t, he was wondering), but imaging her scantily clad in that skimpy dress in the middle of the bushes was surely some trick of his luscious mind rather than some bona fide connection of his magic tatami.

            Good thing too that the joggers (or thought-forms, whatever they might have been) in the park in which the magic tatami had landed couldn’t see the projected form of Al, because he was unable to move right now, except for some embarrassing lower part of his body. Now the tatami was looking like a circus tent. Oh dear… the wedding had been really hard on his nerves, he reckoned.

            When he finally woke up, he noticed some voice messages on his telephone from Becky and thought he would probably skip mentioning his last synchronicity of his :yahoo_whistling:
            What was she wanting that necessitated a dozen messages on his phone? Couldn’t she just call Sean, or was he still incapacitated by the gallons of vodka he had “injested”?
            Well, surely the matter would wait for him to shave, for he was starting to look like Mr Cavern, with the huge hunger too —he smiled at the idea that dear Becky would surely fear he might eat a clue by mistake…


            Moments later, after a good shower, fresh clothes and some slices of buttered nuts bread with pumpkin jam, he telepathically connected to Becky, wondering why she had not thought of that method in the first place… What was the point of all these group meditations together with Sam and Tina if they couldn’t make good profit of the enhanced neurological pathways they had built together. Granted Becky had always been a bit reluctant to use it, or perhaps just forgetful of that possibility… Anyway…

            CAN’T YOU JUST KNOCK BEFORE YOU CONNECT! a shriek suddenly filled his skull

            Al immediately shut the visual, blushing of the renewed deranged vision…

            — Sorry, I just…
            — Oh, no need to trail forever on that… I’ve found someone to help me, and yes, I do remember how to connect telepathically!

            With that, all was left in Al’s skull was a big whooshing wind.


              Becky, Becky, wake up… Lordy, she’s really in denial, you’re right sweet pea…
              We’ve got to rush now, all the people are already arrived now, and we’ve got to go to the civil ceremony now
              Yes, yes, we’ve got plenty of rice for you Becky
              What? Yes, I suppose she ate those mushrooms that were in the blue mud package. They were only supposed to be rehydrated and applied on the face, not eaten… Now she’ll be delirious for quite some hours…
              Peregrine, Guinevere, kids, yes, take that dress, and take good care of the bride herself, she’s not much on her two feet today…

              Al was doing his best to apply all the self-centering techniques he knew and not let things get awry now… Glad he had Tina to help, her practical senses sharp as ever.


              In reply to: Synchronicity


                Hahaha so many comments on the morning when I wake up!!!
                I had a few synchs this morning, the first was with a dream in which I was seeing the number 533 and I was laughing as it was a combination of 53 (me) and 33 (Elias)… and I realized people couldn’t understand it :)

                Well this morning, when I opened my mails, I found 2 mails, one was posted at 5:33 !!!
                And the second one was posted at 9:21… I thought of Francie and as I called her Finn yesterday when I YM’ed her, I was surprised by her last comment in which Finn was speaking…
                And in the mail (the 9:21 one), the subject was : “The biggest dog”… and when I opened the attachment it was a powerpoint document speaking about the dog of Mr FLYNN, that was an English mastiff and was called Hercules, just grew bigger and bigger from his birth on…
                Apparently this is a hoax , but I thought the synch was really fynn ;))


                  Franiel felt an unaccustomed tiredness. The changes of late, his own indecision as to his path, were taking a toll and his spirit felt heavy. Despite the admonitions of Aum Geog to make all haste on this journey he decided to rest, and finding some soft grass under the shelter of a tree he sank gratefully down into it’s embrace.

                  Just a short sleep, he thought drowsily.

                  He was awakened by some gentle drops of rain falling on his cheek. Not knowing how long he had slept for, and seeing the darkness of the clouds in the sky, Franiel realised he had best find some shelter of a more permanent nature to wait out the storm.

                  Franiel, he heard his name being whispered in his thoughts, it was no louder than a clear sky, but rang as clear as any sound he had ever heard.

                  Follow me!

                  And Franiel followed. Though he knew not what spirit it was leading him, he went swiftly to the entrance of a cave set in the side of the hill, as though he had known of it’s whereabouts all along. Just in time, for with a deafening clap of thunder, the heavens opened.

                  From the shelter of the little cave Franiel looked out and felt a mixture of exhileration and awe at the power of the mighty elements he was witnessing . Though he kept his body dry, he sent his spirit out to dance in the rain, and laughing softly to himself, he at last felt the greyness of the last few weeks begin to ascend, as though lifted by the hands of angels, said the soft voice in his head.

                  Who are you? whispered Franiel, feeling an inexplicable and sudden longing.


                  It was the next day before Franiel was able to continue his journey. Making himself a small meal of bread and cheese from his provisions, checking that his precious cargo was secure in his pack, he set out feeling refreshed.


                    Number Four was dreaming, at least it was what he was feeling. The quality of his vision was blurred and he couldn’t really focus on details. He was in a dark room with another man. Despite the darkness, he could clearly see that the man was very pale. There was a third man, mad eyes and hysterical laugh, and a woman.

                    The man mad was speaking and assigning them a mission. It was about… skulls? Crystal skulls :yahoo_idk:

                    All of a sudden his hearing was crystal clear. He had heard the name of the woman… Carla… He was asking her to go and find a Viscountess, find the skull…

                    Then he turned to the pale man.

                    Robert, my dear Robber, hinhinhin! I trust you with the Hawaiian witch. Be careful she’s dangerous and very powerful. Don’t misjudge her words or her deeds. Never accept anything, be it food or liquid. Don’t let them touch you either. But I know you already know that. hinhinhin!!!”

                    His horse-like laugh was unnerving, and Number Four was so excited, maybe he could learn his own name… why was it so slow!? He was looking at the Baron, watching him laugh showing his immense teeth and gum! Number Four almost lost his grip to the dream imagery.

                    Breathe he told himself
                    Breathe… Yes, Breathe deeply, YES, YES
                    The Baron had finished laughing and was smiling like a vulture.

                    When he turned his face toward Number Four, his eyes were swirling like hell, blazing hot red light…

                    “My dear one 8-}, to you I trust the most difficult one… My old mad friend on his foolish Island. He has a foolish project, and you’ll serve as a guinea pig…”

                    Number Four felt a strong twinge, his dream eye was blinking out of control.
                    The Baron’s voice was thunderous and other dimensional.

                    hinhinhin! My dear Claude……………………”

                    The sound of his name was enough, enough of this insanity… all his memory was accessible now, and he began to feel the rage gather inside of him.

                    He was fully awake now. He was in the middle of a nest, several birds were crying around, trying to raise the alarm.
                    He gathered his will and released it at once in a fury.


                      He did recall his name in a dream. Jarvis.
                      A strange dream actually.
                      There was that woman… whose name he couldn’t recall though.
                      Her face was beautiful but he hadn’t felt any sexual attraction toward her… it was different, like he knew her.
                      Well, with his memory loss, he possibly knew her, someone close assuredly.
                      She was asking questions about this land he had beached on… and in the dream it appeared he knew many details, again that he couldn’t recall now he was awake.
                      It was more like a legend, not facts.
                      But now it was quite real to him.
                      It’s been 2 days since he opened his eyes on this purple beach, and he’s been busy collecting driftwood to make a fire. He didn’t dare venture into the forest, and if the legends about the inhabitants of Kandulim were true, he wasn’t welcome here.

                      Wow he was feeling dizzy. His head was pounding repeatedly like one of the vangor drums. He dropped the twigs he had collected on the sand and took his head in his hands. The pounding was so loud that he began crying.


                      A flash, a soft feminine face surrounded by a fiery red hair and blue liquid eyes. She was smiling at him.
                      The pounding ceased at once, and he just had the time to see a movement in the forest. All was still now. His mind would suggest it was a hallucination fostered by that head ache… if his thoughts weren’t so scattered.

                      Who was in that vision? Who was in the forest?
                      Was it the woman in his dream?

                      He began to recall the strange vision he had before awakening on this beach.


                        The movements of the marmoset were swifts and effortless. The creature was moving through space and not in the jungle. That Kay was another expression of consciousness. It was not a creature, it was not of essence. They had not recognized its nature as quickly as they could have if it wasn’t merged so intimately with that focus of Blöhmul. The little mass event of this pursuit was tremendously fun, and they were all getting closer to Anita. The aspects of the 4 essences still focused with her were still. She had just awaken from her last dream with her parents. And was telling it to Yuki and Armelle. The Lynx was sleeping on a rock outside, enjoying the warm feeling of the sun on its fur, and the Goat was busy eating the grass around the camp so no creature or human could hide and sneak around without being noticed. Armelle hooted with amusement. They all reintegrated the aspects they had put together to create that marmoset.

                        It reached its hand to grasp an borgulm fruit from the upper branch of the borgulm tree. The Snoot was quite fond of these juicy and intermediate fruits. They were always containing alcohol to various degrees, never the same. They were quite colorful also, many shades that you would discover only when opening them. And the Snoot liked to be surprised. The juice was coloring its liquid fur as soon as it had been absorbed. The Snoot had usually no name. They were quite solitary creatures. Expressions of different aspects of consciousness from an ancient civilization, as some would tell you. The Snoot noticed some alteration of the air. Different elements of the whole were coming… they felt quite different from what it was accustomed to. A strong curiosity motivated the Snoot which was altering his liquid fur and becoming translucent, transparent, almost invisible, and it began to focus on these strange arrangements of consciousness that were so noisy.


                        Kay saw the marmoset disappear just before they reached a clearing where a Lynx was sleeping and yet not sleeping, a Goat was eating the grass and esthetically shaping the clearing, and inside a hidden bubble were an Owl and a Rabbit that seemingly were listening to a little girl giggling and babbling.


                          Somewhere during the 23 rd century

                          “aaa AAAA AAAAA Tcheeeew !”

                          “Hiiiiii?! Oh Fracking NOOOoooo!”

                          The shriek had been heard in the whole facility.

                          Phefia Beryl was the first on the spot where Vinya Grey had been playing so exuberantly with her vocal chords.

                          — Vinnie? Are you alright?… What just happened?
                          — Oh, Pheffy… I think I made an awful blunder…
                          — What do you mean?
                          — You know, my last experiment?
                          — The g…
                          — Yes!
                          — What?!
                          — They poofed away…
                          — Away?… You mean, all of them? Oh bugger…


                          A few minutes later, Vinya and Phefia were around a white table sucking on straws picked into white and red polystyrenoid balls.

                          — Vinnie, you look terrible… That last geomagnetic storm had not done very good on your DNA I’m afraid.
                          — And the worse is that each time I sneeze, I blow up wormholes… I thought it would go better very quickly, but last one was big and lasted long enough to let the whole experimental herd wander off in another time/space and/or dimension…
                          — Yeah, that’s pretty bad… But wherever they went, they probably will die very soon… Imagine… With their stiff legs anytime they see something frightening, I guess a mere mapgie could easily have them for dinner…
                          — Such a pity… I was close to doing something great with them… When we discovered these fossilized blue spiders, I knew it was the first step.
                          — Bwah, this rehydrated frogrog is the grossest thing I’ve ever drunk… But yeah you’re right, the first results were very promising. The spiders venom could provoke very random and deep mutations.
                          — And all we needed was a little more control on the direction of the mutations.
                          — Anyway they’re just goats… You possibly can’t have breached a cosmic law with a handful of GOATS
                          — Hope so Pheffy, hope so…


                          San Demangelo, 1848

                          Elroy was laughing… Hey Joe, Twi! he shouted A letter from Uncle Ernie!

                          — Uncle Ernie? How’s the old bat doin’? asked Twilight
                          — He’s sending his greetings for the new year, and babbling about last dead people in the neighborhood. But there’s something funny. He’s saying that he’d just acquired some funny goats. Like popped in, out of nowhere. At first he’d thought of a joke, but apparently no one’s been claiming them. He’d thought them dead, they were a dozen laying stiff on the ground, but when they started to wake up, they went down again like broken dolls. Apparently the magpies on top of the tree had been scaring them. Ahaha… Where does he get such strange stories…
                          — Well, magpies are scarey, Twilight said meaningfully, with a side glance at Joe
                          — Whatever… At least he’d been giving us a good laugh. He’s saying he’s gonna breed the horny beasts, and start a Fainting Goat Fair (or FGF) in Marshall County. Perhaps we could get there next Thanksgiving…
                          — Depends when the Freak Show’s coming to town, mused Twilight, I hope to see them soon…


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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


                                Anita woke up in a strange world. She wasn’t in the plane. Her parents were not here. She began to feel afraid but a movement in her periphery made her look on her left.

                                — MeoWrrrl! It’s about time Pashi, you slept for about 3 days. We had some difficulties bringing you in this safe place. But the spiders are looking for you.

                                — Lynxie! Where are my parents?

                                She woke up and hugged the Lynx.

                                — Wowl Wowl, they had been taken by the spiders. That was their choice. In a manner of speaking they did it so you could live. We used their loving energy to focus and take you away of all that mess.

                                — The spiders? What spiders? How can a spider take an adult? You mean there were a lot of them?

                                — Meowmm! A lot yes, and also quite huge ones. But you already know them. And…

                                Araili’s gaze blurred for a few seconds and Anita felt that he was accessing her energy.

                                — Their Elder, she knows you also, you are connected strongly. You’ll meet her in time. Meowrrrrrl :yahoo_eyelashes: Are you hungry?

                                The little question distract her attention from all what she was about to ask about her parents and the situation. Yes she was quite hungry, but Lynxie said she’d been sleeping for 3 days? Her stomach was growling quite loudly.

                                — Yes, I think so.

                                Flap, flap, flap. :yahoo_angel:

                                — Oh Owlie! :bounce:

                                A beautiful SnOwl was bringing the breakfast. A basket with fruits and breads and all that she could have imagined for her breakfast.

                                — Pashi, Araili had told me you were awake, the others are coming. Rafaela is bringing your some milk ;)) I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.


                                  Arona finally managed to fall into a restless sleep.

                                  She dreamt she was walking down a narrow alleyway between a row of old brick houses. A woman hanging multicoloured shawls on a washing line called out to her.

                                  Where are you going? asked the lady. Are you lost or something? Do you need some co-ordinate points?

                                  oh no, said Arona, I am just checking out the other side. I heard there is chocolate over there. It is through that gate I think.

                                  The lady recoiled in horror. The other side! NO, you don’t want to go to the other side. I went to the other side once and I was never the same again. They all say I am mad now. No stay here and help me with the laundry.

                                  Arona hesitated. A rabbit, a lynx and a toad rushed down the alleyway. Woooooo Hoooooo, they shouted. We are going to the other side toooooooooooooo.

                                  Mad, said the woman shaking her head, completely bonkers I am afraid, and she threw fairy dust on Arona.


                                  Arona wakened from her strange dream feeling oddly refreshed. It was morning. She started making her way happily back towards the cave, anxious to see her friends again.


                                    When Arona woke up, still groggy, she found herself inside a cave, near a crackling fire of dry wood smelling of pine sap with blends of rosewood and sage leaves.
                                    Vincentius was tending the fire and boiling some marshmallow scented tea when she opened her eyes.
                                    Apparently the baby was nearby and sleeping too, except that it was no longer a baby, but Arona would have recognized the endearugly face whatever its age. Was Yikesy really an Ugling baby with shape-shifting powers? Or had she simply slept for years?

                                    Arona was doubting, was all of this even real, for Ghört’s sake? Or another plot of the wicked witch she had met moments (moments?) ago?

                                    Vincentius smiled at her.
                                    Was he even Vincentius?

                                    How are you Arona?
                                    Bit weirdo she snapped, wanting to test the acceptance of Vincentius who would certainly soon reveal his true nature if he wasn’t truly Vincentius.
                                    Weirdo is perfect smiled Vincentius, You are really tough, I thought it would take you longer to wake up


                                      I really should do something about this, I think this song may be a curse, thought the astute Arona, as the singing crone took Yikesy from her arms. Yet she found herself unwilling to move, a strange lethargy had overtaken her. Can I move? she wondered. She felt so strange and heavy.

                                      Slowly Arona turned her head towards Vincentius. Perhaps he had a suggestion as to what she should do. But Vincentius had disappeared. This should be rather perplexing. But oddly it didn’t matter to her. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.

                                      I am in a dream perhaps? I feel as though I may be in a dream. That’s the answer, I will give in to this sleepy feeling, and then I will be in a dream for sure. When I awaken everything will be alright.

                                      She lay down on her side on the ground, and pulling her knees up, curled into a little ball and closed her eyes. Laughing with Vincentius seemed such a long time ago. How quickly everything can change, she thought sleepily.


                                        November, 1 st 2057

                                        Sean took another glass of scotch to give him some courage to call.

                                        — It’s your twelfth now, that’s supposed to give you courage
                                        — Oh, Maggie, my live is such a mess…
                                        — It’s not, and you know it. Look at all our beautiful children, and Becky who went through so much just out of love for you…

                                        Sean didn’t know whether he was actually seeing the ghost of his deceased wife, or a projection of her, still alive in another part of the Universe, but she always had been a comforting presence.
                                        He had started to see her a few months after her disappearance.
                                        Yes, during that T.R.A.P. expedition, yeah, “live-changing experience” they had said… True, too true… Perhaps the electromagnetic field had messed up with his brains, but now he could see her clear as day.

                                        That had been a bit freaky in the beginning, and when they made love with Becky, he was a bit anxious to see her appear not invited. But Margaret had been discrete, well mostly. At times, he wondered if she had not sneaked into the bedroom and merged her energies with Becky’s, just to be closer to him… Becky’s acts did not always make sense anyway, so that was hardly a criterion to judge of that.

                                        All his live had been like that. A jumble of incoherent stuff. Oh, he had enjoyed it, especially at the beginning. His father Lord Wrick was obsessed with the Shift, and had found some ancient knowledge in his youth. Mostly rubbish by nowadays standards, bunches of rotten books of prophecies handed down to a few chosen ones, who were supposed to be forewarned of doom to come. Now, they knew that they were only a wake up call, but at that time, it was another thing altogether.

                                        Of course, the wealth accumulated over the centuries by the Wrick family had been helpful to access these precious archaeological documents. A few of them had played a key role.
                                        For instance, the in-extenso Life and Deeds of Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson, a rare version of the diary of Lord Fergusson, annotated by his daughter, Illi, was telling an account of history much different than the one romanced after his death by his wife Floribunda von Grott.
                                        Thanks to it, Lord Wrick had been able to acquire some inkling as to ancient treasures. Old fool…
                                        It had killed his wife, Artemisia, devastated by the madness of her husband, and it had alienated the other part of the family too.
                                        But all that counted was to make the discoveries, and perhaps enlight the masses.

                                        Sean had never really forgave his father that he wanted to utilise Margaret and have her fit into his plans of grandeur. Of course, his father had willingly accepted the union, and despite all appearances (for the sake of those rapacious journalists) he had even pushed Sean to do it quickly. But all he was really interested in was her precious discoveries.

                                        — Oh, but I was not innocent, Sean
                                        — I know Maggie, you were obsessed by what we could offer to you, especially when you read about the botanical experiments in the deserts, which were related in that old book. But still…
                                        — We all had grown up through that, you know…
                                        — Yes, and what showed me that, was that I was concerned that the old vampire would suck my own children into his web, but Peregrine was too free for that, and Guinevere preferred to live her live outside of this madness too.
                                        Becky had a good influence. Do me a favour, be kind to her.
                                        — You know what?… Yes of course you’d know,… but let me tell you, so that we can laugh together… I found myself really happy and free when I stole the two magical books out of the Old Fool’s clutch. God knows how he acquired them, but one thing was sure, he was obsessed with them. I couldn’t get the mummy, but the books were a great take.
                                        — And a funny idea to give them to your cousin…
                                        — Yes, Dorean was the perfect person. I couldn’t leave them anywhere, my father would have found them again. At least he wasn’t in good terms with his brother and sister-in-law, so they were safe in their care. And at least, they were more grounded than my father, the perfect keepers for the books… I’m wondering what happened to them…
                                        — That will upset you, but Perry’s twins got them.
                                        — Oh really?
                                        — Yes, and they are having fun with them, as was intended.
                                        — That’s fine then, and we are less obsessed now than we were before, so I guess my father isn’t as much as a pain in the butt as he was…
                                        — You father meant good
                                        — Yes, like everyone, but why can’t we leave people alone at times? People can sort out their issues without the commiseration, and the good intentions… It’s poison even worse… Like I can drink and still be healthy, and nice, and…

                                        Sean started to sob.

                                        — I know, darling, but you’re as much of a sore as your father was… You focus so much on what’s not going right, and you don’t even appreciate that you can talk with your departed wife… That was nothing as easy in the old days.
                                        — Do you think my father talks with mum to?
                                        — I think he would be too proud to admit he is sorry… That may hinder the communication… But Arty wouldn’t bear grudge now. When we let go of the physical, things become so clear, we can only be accepting of everything. Perhaps you prefer to wait for your father to cross over? I can tell you something, that won’t be easier. That much I know.
                                        — You’re right. It’s just that I don’t know how to start…
                                        — Be yourself, talk about what you enjoy, where is your passion now… Perhaps that is the problem. You’re drowning your passion in your scotch.
                                        — You’re right… I’ll tell him Léan will have a baby.
                                        — Oh, he’ll love it!
                                        — How time flies… sighed Sean, I still remember the little sweetie as a blue-eyed laughing baby herself, with Oliver and Illana. She was the only one of the triplet to have inherited her mother’s dark complexion. She’s so beautiful…
                                        — Let’s call your father darling
                                        — Yes, let’s call him.


                                        Lord Wrick had not expected to received that call. Well, he had renounced it so long ago.
                                        He had been a bit shaken, but also relieved. He had proposed, on an impulse, to invite that whole part of the family he barely knew, Sean’s new partner, and all their children for next Christmas in the castle. Sean had told him they would probably come with Becky but that the children were now having their own lives, and it would have to be for another time.


                                        Lord Wrick went to see Bill, who was now painting the portraits of Peregrine and Linda in the veranda.
                                        He would probably have to stay longer, to paint a lot of new family portraits.

                                        That probably would come perfectly, as ever, as the Lord could tell India Louise loved to spend time with the painter. Perhaps she would become an artist too… :sumari:


                                          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.


                                            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…


                                            — 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?


                                            — 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.


                                            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.


                                            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…


                                            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.

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