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  • #946
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Oh, by the way, Gayesh….. Becky turned as she leaving his office. What about those babies? My babies, she corrected herself.

      The babies will be fine, they will be returned to the father, ahem, to Sean, the husband, for upbringing, along with the clone.

      Oh phew, said Becky, feeling slightly guilty for her lack of maternal feelings.

      Becky, Gayesh got up from behind his desk and walked over to Becky and held her hands in his, peering kindly into her eyes. Maternal feelings are not a requirement you know, it’s merely a preference of some. There’s nothing ‘wrong’ with choosing a clone to bring up your children. It’s not ‘wrong’ to choose a clone to live with a husband chosen in haste and in error…not that there are any errors! he chuckled. You will see how perfectly this will all work out. Trust me! Better still, trust YOURSELF!

      You’re so kind, Gayesh! Becky gushed. And really rather attractive too, she smiled slyly. Did she wink at Gayesh? Maybe she did. Or maybe it was one of those eye twitches. Gayesh watched her saunter down the corridor, smiling.

      #928

      Passing through the security cordon of the giant spiders had been relatively easy, thanks to the indications telepathically passed down to them by the Snoot .
      With Anita on her back, Yurmaela the gruffoon had come back to the borgulm tree where Claude had been left to watch. After a moment of surprise at the unexpected apparition, he didn’t take long to decide whether he wanted to stay or not and had jumped on the broad back with the little smiling girl who was grabbing on the coarse hair of the beast.

      Keep you energies and your attention close to us, said Yurmaela Just like Akayli is doing with your parents, Anu. Though they have plenty of eyes, the giant spiders mostly rely on their energy perception, and they won’t see you if you stay within our energy field.

      A few minutes later, they were all standing in front of the growirling wortex, partially masked by the bark of the huge babul tree, which was standing out with its massive appearance. Flames of what seemed to be dark floating matter were pulsating very slowly, enhancing the thumping sound of their hearts.

      Ready to come back home sweet Anu? Akayli said fondly to the little girl?
      Yes, it was so much fun you all came to play with me… I’d want you to stay with me.
      What do you say? asked Claude They ain’t coming?
      This reality had a special design which allowed us to project very easily here said Yurmaela very softly in that reality of you, and Anita and Akita; as for now, the barrier in that reality is thicker than it is here.
      But we are always present around Anu, you know that said Akayli kneeling down to wrap his spotted furry arms around the little girl
      Yes I know she was smiling And I miss my parents too
      So let’s go, the wortex will close any moment now

      #919

      It only took a few seconds for Armelle to deflate though she donned off with a hint of reluctance the delightfully filling feeling of power she had acquired notwithstanding the slight overweight (a few grams at best, given her immaterial nature of pristine white hallowy owly essence, but you could not reasonably expect to be really ascended with even no more than a few grams of physicality left, could you?)…

      So, it only took a few seconds, which in essence’s inner time was tantamount to a mere eon (a merry myriad of seconds).

      But then, all was so clear.
      She was seeing the trail that was left unwatched by the spiders, and that her friends would take to the wort-hole.

      Claude, my dear, would you be so kind as to oblige me for a few minutes? she regally asked her host of the branches, taking great care not to be too self-conscious, which would irremediably make her roll her eyes and lose all composure.
      Well… err… I s’pose yes…
      Indeed. Then, take good care of the wort-hole, and wait for us to come back, and then lead us back to the place from whence you came.
      Wouldn’t do that, if I were you… It’s full of magpies there…
      Oh bugger now. Armelle sighed so profusely that it made the hair raise on Claude’s head. The Snoot told me the way would be clear, so… have a little faith in me she said in a cocker’s voice.

      And there, in a majestic elan, she went back to the spot where her friends were now gently getting together.

      :fleuron:

      When she arrived, Akayli the were-lynx had just been deposing his precious package of the two silk-wrapped parents at the feet of little Anita. The first minutes of doubt passed, her hesitant face started to show a smile, knowing that her parents would be fine.

      Yuki was for himself all very impressed by the transformergence of his friends, and was finding that a very good idea to get more focused.
      However, he could hear the yet unvoiced protests of Armelle at his yet unphrased suggestion of a mergence
      Now way I get my white feathers mixed in that bloody smelly goat’s fur!
      And of course, he could hear too the yet unvoiced slew of outraged protests
      Smelly goat? Who you bloddy call a smelly goat, you persnickity saucer-eyed shuttlecock?

      Yet… Yuki, gazing for a few seconds of essence in the stream of possibilities, weighted again the enticing result that a mergence of the three of them would produce…
      Which would be… a… grabbiffon.
      A magnificent winged horned cotton-tailed… sort of… gryffun… or grumpfoon.
      Well… perhaps Armelle was right in the not-yet-voiced first place.

      That would just be plain ridiculous.

      So… what are we waiting for?! Let’s do it now!! all three of them laughed in unison :D =)) :creating_magic: :buffoon:

      #913
      Jib
      Participant

        The afternoon was hot, a bit moist and sticky too. Yurick and Yann were enjoying the freshness of Dory’s patio.
        Cold lemon drink in cocktail glasses, the radio playing some sun related song.
        Dan was out playing golf with friends and would be here for dinner.
        Dory, dozing on her rocking chair had told Yurick and Yann that they could use their computers, they had 2 of them, so Yurick could take Dory’s and Yann could take Dan’s. Yurick was busy checking his mails and answering all those who had submitted some article for the next issue of their e-zine, and Yann wanted some distraction. He was just looking at some pictures on Gurgle, some movies on Yootune. Some of them were cracking him up, and he had difficulties keeping his :-| face serious.
        At the same time he was browsing through Dan’s pictures folders. Some of them were really amazing. Pictures of Dory on the field, with her pith helmet and her brushes, her shovels or even her pick. She was very funny looking when she was finding something seemingly out of nowhere, having dug all day long with no result and then finally some treasure! Often, Yann thought, it was only some fragment of a vase or some broken tool, but she always had this awe-inspired gaze ;))

        What is the name of this singer again?, asked Yurick.
        You ask me?

        The grin on Yurick’s face was all that Yann was waiting for. Yann had no memory of names of singers or actors. Their face, once he had seen it were recorded in his mind, but their name was like a summer breeze, refreshing, but soon forgotten. He knew that Yurick was more asking that to himself.

        Dunno me luv. You can ask the mummy in the living room if you want…
        Hahaha, graowl

        Hehehe. Funny that, thought Yann. Coming back to the computer screen, his eyes fall on a strange folder name.
        Patate? What’s that!?
        Double-click.
        Just a few files. Videos mainly. The names weren’t very evocative…
        Yann picked one and waited for the movie to begin.
        It was kind of black and white movie… the grain was gross and old fashioned. There was no audio.
        Yann had an old memory of a similar movie seen on the comodor computer of his cousin’s parents… his cousin had told him about some weird movie he had found in a floppy disk of his father…
        So, there was a man, maybe in his 60’s, he was wearing a gray bathing suit and was a bit hairy. Drinking some kind of grey cocktail.
        A girl came in… with an amazing leopard baby-doll!!! from what Yann could see, she was blond and fleshy. Oh! and she had some friends. All of them with a leo-part on them :-?

        Ahem! Yurick? Wanna see what I found?
        Hmmm
        I’m sure you’ll find some interest :)) hahaha! Oh my Flove! She’s really doing it!?
        =))

        Seeing his friend hilarious picked the curiosity of Yurick and he eventually came to see. The look on his face when he saw what was happening was too much for Yann who burst into laughter. That was enough to wake Dory who almost fell off her rocked chair.

        What is that? Where did you find that… thing? Dory looked offended, but soon she was blushing.
        Oh! no… don’t look at that. It was a youthful mistake…

        #908

        They won’t stop those nasty buggers! Tearing apart all our beauty machines! Awww, poor Vessie will be devastated! Gloria said sadly, coming dangerously close to the spot
        Watch’out Glo! Sharon cried as a menacing magpie came cawing at her while the others were ripping the machine apart in gruesome metallic sounds.
        Bugger! Bugger! cried Gloria Won’t bloddy poke me eyes! She started to wave her arms and kick out in erratic movements to brush out the bouncing and flying bird.

        STAY CLEAR! the voice of Sha thundered a few moments after, and before Gloria could notice anything, a big thud with a crunching sound went zooming past her.
        Bloddy brilliant Sha! Gloria said, spreading the fatty fingers of her hands off her face to look at the magpie crunched under a coconut. Not so proud now, bloddy bugger! she sniggered at the bird.

        She almost giggled as she looked up on her friend. In a second, she understood how the coconut had been thrown. Ye’re bloody genius Sha! Wouldn’t have thought of using me bra as a sling! she beamed at her nearly naked friend wearing all but wrinkles and padding.

        Oh the buggers, won’t get away with it! an all bucked up Gloria said, stripping her bra off her opulent breasts.
        Dammit, they got something! T’s‘all shiny like a crystal ball! Must be a U.V. lamp or something
        They won’t get away with it! We’ll knock ‘em out one by one those nasty buggers; any more coconuts by yourself sweetie?
        Got aye few pomegranates here
        Go fer it!

        #1803

        In reply to: Synchronicity

        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster


          Yesterday sync: while watching a series, something popped in in relation to the crystal skulls.

          The thing is, Roslin, the woman character on the screenshot, is a president dying from a cancer, and is wearing a black wig. We had been discussing black wig with Finn previously.

          Later that night, Tracy shared about an experience that she and her friends just had during the afternoon, which was interpreted by Arkandin as a bleedthrough from a dying focus of her friend’s husband. He said that this focus would be in Chile.
          Tracy inquired if there was a Chile thread already in the story, to which I told her there was

          And I was quite impressed to see there was a connection not only to crystal skulls and Chile, but also with dying person, and wig…

          L-)

          #886

          Is something bothering you Franiel? You look a bit perturbed.Phoebe was watching him intently.

          Oh sorry, yeah, I was just thinking about Aum Geog. I really should have sent him a message, you know about losing the chalice.

          Phoebe looked thoughtful. Well we could send a message via one of the Fincheons if it would set your conscience at ease.

          Fincheons? Those are those really beautiful silver birds aren’t they?

          That’s right, they are spectacular aren’t they! I have a pair I use for sending messages on occasion.

          Oh great! Franiel looked immensely relieved. I will go and write a note to him them. He won’t be happy though, I am fairly certain of that.

          Although … silly me. Would you like to use the phone to call him? It would be much quicker. Honestly sometimes I think I am living in the dark ages, not 2008! chuckled Phoebe merrily.

          Franiel laughed with her. Oh I know just what you mean!

          Oh by the way, said Phoebe, there’s a motorbike in the garage. It hasn’t been used for years, but if you can get it going, you are most welcome to use it.

          #1800

          In reply to: Synchronicity

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Another unexpected babies sync…
            Thinking of a Travis song this morning (Sing) I stumble upon this clip

            #881

            Aum Geog spent a long time seating motionless before the piece of parchment which had just been delivered by a specially trained fincheon.
            Fincheons were not particularly elegant, (not to say downright ugly) one had to admit, but they were very convenient, once you noticed that their feathers were a special shining tint of grey which almost made them invisible. They always knew how to fly back, and this one had made no exception.
            But it was a bearer of annoying news for the newly appointed Elder of the Monastery who was trying to curb his irateness by staying still.

            This… he was at a loss for words. Breathe, breathe he exhorted himself.

            A few months ago, when he was appointed Elder, his patient work of diligence seemed to have just paid off. He had thought he would be given the keys, and more importantly, the chalice.
            But that sly dog of Hrih had decided otherwise. He had transmitted the chalice to that irresponsible and naïve novice Franiel, while giving him a bunch of rusted keys he didn’t give two poohs about.
            Of course, it was only a matter of time before he could get it back, all he had to do was to make Franiel uncomfortable enough that he willingly relinquish the ownership to someone… someone like himself of course!
            The annoying thing about this damn chalice you see, is that it won’t properly function with anyone else than the rightful owner (except for small uninteresting tricks). Obviously, Hrih didn’t want him to have access to its powers, but that old monkey was now gone, and there wasn’t much he could do about what was going on.

            In fact, the plan was nearly perfect. Two birds, one stone. Bring Franiel to have some appropriate spell modifications carved onto that chalice, and have him give it back to the Elder, Aum Geog himself.
            Obviously, he couldn’t just let go such a precious artifact in the nature without appropriate stealthy surveillance. Thanks to one of his faithful servants, Brother Derwish, he was kept informed of the progresses. A former master of disguises that a other-Worldly experience had him join the orders, Brother Derwish was no short of brains nor tricks in his bag, and that parchment was another proof of it.
            If he had renounced to contact Elder Aum Geog directly through the glowing balls, and take the risks of unexpected delays, it was because they were most probably watched and their communication monitored.

            So here went the news:

            SPARFLY HAS MADE CONTACT WITH BIRD OF PREY. EGG DISAPPEARED.
            NESTING CHANGED TREE. GNAT STICKS TO THE POOH.

            Brother Derwish imaginative poetry could mean but one thing. Or two perhaps.

            The little twit had been watched by someone else who had showed him some of the powers of the egg… err, the chalice. It would have partly activated the chalice, and make it disappear unless its owner needs it enough to have it appear again. Obviously, without chalice, or thinking it was lost, he had changed his course to another place.
            Hopefully, Brother Derwish was following his trail closely.

            If more disastrous news had to come, Elder Aum Geog would have to summon his char of marmoths (big toothed hibernating woolliphants) and go there by himself.

            :fleuron:

            Leonard was content. It had not happened exactly as he had thought, but as he had explained to Malvina, the only wise thing to do was to teach the boy about the powers of the chalice. That would active its self-protective cloaking power, and have the boy temporarily relieved of this burden.
            For if he had been entrusted the chalice by the old Abbot, that was surely for a good reason.

            As Franiel had been moving, Leonard had had Moufle watch over him. Apparently, Leonard and his dog weren’t the only ones on his trail… The wiry gangly tonsured guy clothed in a potatoes sack didn’t seem to be here by chance either…

            #1798

            In reply to: Synchronicity

            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Some interesting syncs:

              Discussing the comment on Franiel and Vincentius with Francie, some things of interest:

              F: hahaha i laughed at the egg bit :egg_wink:
              E: bit silly I reckon :)) but somehow it synch’ed with two movies we’ve been watching yesterday
              F: yes, good to have a bit of silly in our otherwise serious story :|
              E: In one, there is that :ghost: ghost girl who stalks her husband new love affair, and ends up speaking through a parrot
              And the other, there is this shaman old woman who remote-views her people went on a quest, and ends up dying in stead of a girl, so that the young one lives…

              F: oh that is like your plants in the courtyard dream too —just had a recollection of you saying one gave up its pot for the other one
              E: Oh yes, true… Perhaps it’s just like a layering, like you do for strawberries, you use parts of the roots to do new plants…
              “Layering is more complicated than taking cuttings, but has the advantage that the propagated portion can continue to receive water and nutrients from the parent plant while it is forming roots.”

              E: “In air layering (or marcotting), the target region is wounded and then surrounded in a moisture-retaining wrapper such as sphagnum moss ;))

              Peat moss is also a critical element for growing mushrooms” that’ll make Tracy happy :))
              In New Zealand, care is taken during the harvesting of sphagnum moss=))

              F: “it can also be used as a substrate for tarantulas as it is easy to burrow into:spider:

              E: “Such Sphagnum bogs can also preserve human hair and clothing, one of the most noteworthy examples being Egtved Girl , Denmark”. Egg and B.C. sync :))

              F: cool name, Egtved. Oh thats interesting about the Egtved girl: due to be public this month
              E: oh, well spotted!
              F: shall we all pop over and check it out
              E: Ahahaha sure :world:

              #833
              Jib
              Participant

                The low vibration of his didjeridoo was filling up the room. His apartment in NYC was wide open, and a fresh breeze was caressing his naked arms. Sam had learn how to circular breathe in order to play the didjeridoo while he was in Australia. He loved the sound of it, the vibration passing from the hollow trunk through his arms, his mouth, his whole body.
                His didjeridoo was undecorated as he was more interested by the sound than by its appearance. A clear E flat.

                Sam was playing around with the sounds he could do with this instrument, a blending of harmonics and of seeming animal cries. He was also introducing sounds that he connected to various friends of his. His open windows had let some bees in the apartment. The rhythm of his music and the rhythm of the fly of the insects were creating a kind of pattern that was hypnotic, and he soon felt his body expand as he was keeping on playing and breathing.

                He was letting more of his awareness of other energies and he could see that among his friends were various people from the aboriginal tribes he had met during his trip, and also the Nanaconda.

                #811
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Elioctyl had been trying in vain for years to attract the attention of the museum cleaning lady, Ella Marie Tindale.

                  Ella Marie had lived in Alabama all her life, and her parents before her. Some of her ancestors were native to this land, some from the distant shores of Africa. She loved the stories of the old ones, passed down through the generations, stories told at family gatherings and celebrations. Ella Marie had never learned to read, but she remembered all the stories word for word, including her own stories. Ah, her own stories! She kept her own stories to herself, she never forgot the horrified silence when, as a child of five, she had voiced one of her stories at a family gathering. A silence had descended like a pall in the dining room that day.

                  She shivered at the memory as she dusted the glass case covering the mummy, and Elioctyl, seizing upon the moment as a possible chance to get Ella Marie’s attention, whispered loudly.

                  Ella! It’s me, you silly goose, it’s me, I mean YOU!

                  Duster suspended in mid-air, Ella Marie quickly looked around to make sure nobody was watching her. All her life she’d been one step away from the funny-farm; she knew she had to be careful.

                  Are you speaking to ME? she asked the mummy, incredulously. She’d spoken to trees before, and heard them reply, but never a mummy.

                  Sheesh! exclaimed the mummy, At LAST! Over 3,000 years I’ve been whispering to you, and finally, you heard me.

                  Ella Marie looked furtively over her shoulder, and then whispered back: Well, what for? What do you want?

                  I want you to get me the fuck out of here, that’s what!

                  Ella Marie clamped her work worn hands over her ears. You mind your language! she admonished the mummy. I don’t wonder I wasn’t listening to you all those years, coming out with language like that! Pfft….

                  Metaphorically speaking, the mummy raised its eyebrows and sighed.
                  :mummy:

                  #807
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Elioctyl looked down on her body being wrapped in mummification bandages and sniggered. Dear funny silly alive ones, with their darling little rituals. How sweet they were to think their physical processes would make a ha’porth of difference after their last sweet breath of terrestrial air.

                    Look at Hoofut, taking it all so seriously! He thinks that if he takes every possible care with those strips of cloth and smelly unguents, that he…yes he alone!…has the power to direct my next adventures. Silly man! But he means well, bless his leather sandals. And Tarfel too, see how he cries when he’s sure Hoofut isn’t watching. I see the tears roll down his leathery cheeks, I see him brush them away with the back of his hand, and sniff and snort, and then spit on the floor. He pretends it’s the malodourous vapours of the embalming mixtures that’s making his nose run, but I can see.

                    Shalabat cries too when no-one is watching. He rests on a cushion beside the pool, waiting for the completion of the process on my lifeless body, waiting for the ceremonial rites to take place, waiting, wondering, worrying about the future….he has every faith in Hoofut’s skills, and Tarfel’s too. But he wonders what will happen to his people now without Elioctyl.

                    Ah, and I wonder too, but I don’t worry. I make a pact now, in love for these dear ones, to leave a piece of me in energy in the mummy they create out of my bones and skin. The mummy is for the terrestrial ones, a poignant reminder, a mystery, a relic, a treasure, a clue! and for them, I give it life, energy, meaning….I will return from time to time, in ethereal body form, to those who ponder this mummy, for generations to come….

                    #1737

                    In reply to: Synchronicity

                    Jib
                    Participant

                      The traveler’s book is syncing with the anime movie we watched this evening. Full Metal Alchemist is the story of 2 brothers looking for each other. One is called Edward, and the Other Al(phonse). The are from a parallel world in which they can use Alchemy, and it is during the rise of the nazis time framework… and the nazis want to go to Shambhala which is related to Buddhism…
                      Well, even if the movie adapted from a series was quite hard to understand because I didn’t have any reference to their world or the story of the series, it was fun and there was quite an interesting subjective communication :))

                      #2011

                      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        egg times away heard
                        articles himself matter
                        phone russia warm
                        sanso information watch
                        remember bring later yourself
                        dragon guests keep book

                        #756

                        Franiel awoke, it took him a few moments to get his bearings. He stretched, and slowly adjusted to his waking state. He wondered how long he had slept, it was quiet and dark. Although he couldn’t see much, he could feel that dawn was not far away. The ghost hour.

                        He must have slept for hours.

                        Remembering Leonard he looked around and softly called out. There was no reply, and unless Leonard was sleeping, Franiel was alone. “Aye” he sighed, and finding the blanket from his pack, fashioned it into a tent over his head and took shelter in it. It was nearly day, another day.

                        Thinking of his encounter with Leonard, the strange dancing and especially the sweet taste of the nectar, Franiel reached into his pack again to retrieve the chalice.

                        It is no longer there

                        Franiel was not quite sure if he heard a voice utter these words, or if it was just a strange sense of knowing. He still felt around, taking out each item carefully and methodically, emptying the pack, not really wanting to believe the chalice has gone, nor to consider what the implications of this loss might be.

                        Perhaps he did not put the chalice back in the pack after all? He crawled around his surrounds, squinting into the half light of the morning, feeling the dew damp ground. Deciding to trust what he knew in his heart already he sat back and quietly watched as the sky eventually flushed brilliant crimson.

                        Red sky in the morning. A warning ….it is only weather words but ….

                        Reluctant to consider his options, he instead considered some dandelions, how luminous they looked in the morning light.

                        #750
                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          I take it from that you don’t know where the wedding dress is currently. Well if you do come across it would you mind letting Felicity know. said Tina haughtily, switching the phone off abruptly.

                          Al’s words running through her head she started walking quickly nowhere in particular.

                          Tina, what’s the point of these experiments we have been doing with Becky and Sam if you are going to keep relying on the phone all the time? And why are you trying to sort out the dress for Felicity, it isn’t your problem.

                          It wasn’t the so much the words which had stung, after all he was right, it was the annoyance she thought she had heard in his voice.

                          She felt him making contact, quickly blocked, feeling too hurt to be open.

                          She knew he was tired, god knows he had put so much into the wedding preparations, as he did with all his projects. He was fast building a reputation for his ground breaking experiments with body processes. Tina loved Al whatever he looked like, which was just as well really considering some of the rather bizarre effects he managed to produce.

                          Becky had been a bit irritated with her as well, Tina you are so last decade, nay century even! she would say, rolling her large eyes dramatically. Becky too was racing confidently and exuberantly ahead. Her intriguing contributions to the reality play never failed to amaze Tina. Her own contributions felt stolid, words trapped in a big gluggy ball of last century energy, she had to work hard to extricate each one.

                          It was nearly dark, raining harder now, wind-driven rain. Tina liked it, the rain complemented her mood and disguised the self-pitying tears streaming down her face. There were very few people in the street. Just the long line of shop windows, glass faces warmly lit, overhangs offering some shelter from the rain, though it wasn’t shelter Tina was looking for.

                          Her long hair whipped around her face, wet blue satin clung to her slim frame.

                          Sam had taken off unexpectedly and suddenly to Australia. He had been gone only a few days and she missed him. Dear Sam, his wicked and irrepressible sense of humour could make her laugh even in the blackest of moods. He too was playing with new potentials, forging new and exciting paths.

                          The others are probably all communicating with their advanced telepathic skills right now, laughing at dumb old last century Tina, she thought morosely. In fact even last century I would have been so last century, judging by my spectacular lack of success at anything I have undertaken recently. A vision of her recent humiliation in the ballet dancing class sprang to mind. She winced and quickly blocked the distressing image of the dance teacher drawing her aside after class and gently suggesting she might try the Ancient Kuzhebar Motional Practices beginner’s class, to get some basic rhythm, before attempting the ballet. ….

                          An elderly woman who had disembarked at the nearby gondola stop splashed by her, and, illuminated momentarily by the street lamp, Tina felt a flash of recognition. The woman turned suddenly towards her, smiled, gesticulated with her free hand, the other was clutching a large bag, towards some distant bushes. She mouthed some words at Tina, but these were lost in the wind. Tina waved and managed a reciprocal smile.

                          She noticed a Positivity Robot parked in front of Samantha Lingerie, and found herself drawn towards it, 3D images of models wearing the latest in underwear fashions rotated in the shop’s window, their faces beaming irritatingly at her. These Positivity Robots had been all the rage in the early 2020’s, you did not see as many of them now. On impulse she stood in front of the robot, touched the screen, allowing it to read her energy. “negative 21” its glass face discreetly informed her. The words “I AM PERFECT flashed up on the screen as a suggested thought pattern to implement. Tina grimaced. I wonder how low I can make this damn thing go. The idea made her giggle and to her alarm shot the meter up to a positive 12. Bugger, a bad start!

                          What am I going to do with myself, Mr PR, if you are so positively smart?

                          I AM PERFECT…. I AM PERFECT …. I AM PERFECT ….

                          perfectly grumpy, perfectly insecure, perfectly last decade, perfectly soaked to the skin, Tina watched as the meter climbed all the way up to 55.

                          She glanced at the shop window, just as a smiling model wearing a minuscule open net dress and nun’s habit rotated by. She felt an inexplicable burst of amusement as the meter climbed to 57.

                          #747

                          What a francitic woman thought Elizabeth, a bit less distressed now she had secured her last insights into her clooh-box.
                          Hopefully, she could happily forget about those, and go for a walk to have some welcomed cooffee.

                          Wishing she would not bounce into some unwelcome apparition, she trod her way to the outside world.
                          How long it had been? With all that pressure from her publisher, she had almost forgotten how exquisite it all was outside.
                          So simple, and yet so brilliant.

                          It didn’t have the complexity of the Worlds of which she intuited things, nor the same amount of excitement it aroused in her, but nonetheless it was appeasing, and that was perhaps all she needed for the moment.
                          Perhaps a walk to Garden Centrool would do her great.

                          :fleuron:

                          Sitting on a bench near the dribbling foontain where cuckoos were drinking at the sound of woodpeckers’ holes drilling, she became entranced by the sound of water, and almost felt like dancing at the cuckoos and woodpecker’s cooing and drumming beats…
                          All this Lemone quotes were now far away… She’d had enough of them, and wanted simpler truths. Lively ones.

                          She could feel inspiration flow back into herself, as she envisioned her favorite depiction of inspiration, the mangeloose Pigoosus. Elizabeth was reeling in its wonderful aura, seeing the squinting eyes of the creature, the magnificence of its sprawled wings, its awe-inspiring moose antlers, and the slick body of a foxy mongoose with a protuberant snoot.

                          It all was symbolic of herself of course, the best depiction of all her awesome features. The snoot for curiosity (and nose in general), the wings for imagination, the antlers for connection, and the mongoose for the fearlessness and sex-appeal.

                          Pigoosus, or Pigooh, as she called him, was telling him tales, tales that were spun between the gapping holes of her clooh-box items, and that were weaving them together in beautiful macramooh patterns.

                          The Shift in Earth-dimension awareness is coming and it is revealing long-lost hidden things, that is the reason of these other-dimensional bleed-through on the islands. Where those having hoped to bury some artifacts away of consciousness, in that dimension where all was so separated that even Pigooh would have had trouble getting throoh. The skulls gates one by one open now.

                          Pen! She needed a pen!

                          #745

                          Arona, my dear?

                          The silky voice of Malvina resounded in Arona’s ear, while she was meditating on the implications of the story Vincentius had told her.

                          — Yes?
                          — May I borrow you Buckberry and your sabulmantium for a few moments?
                          — Oh sure, no need to ask… Though I don’t think you require my permission for Buckberry, isn’t he free as I am?
                          — Oh yes he is, exactly as you said, free as you are

                          Arona could have sworn she felt a winking energy rippling through her flesh, making some unfamiliar electrical currents crawl underneath her skin. She would have said she was thoroughly disliking it, though she wasn’t really sure if she was.

                          — Oh, Malvina added as if an innocent afterthought, we are moving by the way, perhaps you may find interesting to join us for the homationing ceremony. You may learn some more about your sabulmantium.
                          — Well, why not, answered Arona having no idea of what a homationing ceremony could be…
                          — Very well, please join us in the main entrance, where I am playing the harp. We will be waiting for you.
                          — I’ll be there in a second.

                          So, they were moving? Speak about implications… Arona muttered, stroking dozing Mandrake, who had feasted on too many of the moorats crawling inside the moisteous cave tunnels.
                          I guess I’ll take this astounding elan as a hint that I’ll be going alone she said. A yawn for all answer.
                          Considering it was Mandrake, that was almost a mark of distinctive affection… or was it rather of affectionate distinction?

                          Moving? She didn’t want to move, not yet, not like that… And to be honest, with all the stuff in that cave, she sure didn’t want to help pack all of this, be it by magic. What an impossible task.

                          Vincentius the nanny was taking care of Yikes, so she was confident should anything happen, he would be alright.

                          :fleuron:

                          On the outside of the cave, the dragons were all lined up, as if waiting for some unknown signal. Leormn first in shades of teal, and his spawns, Buckberry, with the most florid and baroque hues of purple that one could imagine, and the two facetious Heckle and Jeckle in shades of emerald, looking unusually calm.

                          Malvina, with Leo the little marmoset on her left shoulder, was playing her harp, while Irtak was accompanying her playing a mouth harp.
                          Some drums had been disposed around, and quite naturally, Arona felt like beating the measure on these, getting slowly and slowly relaxed by the music and guttural sounds produced by the throat singing dragons.
                          She almost laughed and broke the meditating pattern when she let the memory of Sanso come into her awareness. What a shame he’d missed that, that would have fitted him better than her.

                          Slowly the sounds stopped, and Malvina very gracefully rose from her stool, and greeted Arona with a loving hug. Her flowing robe was a tender orchid hue with laces of thistle pink, and her silvery peach long flowing hair were giving her the aura of a princess.

                          — Wait, where are Georges and Salome? She said, are they already gone?
                          — No, they are waiting for us at the new location, she said with a smile… Now, Leormn will start the ceremony.

                          Arona almost said Wait again, in anticipation of what was to come, and finally decided to let it flow. The serene look of Malvina and her motherly smile was of a nurturing reassurance.

                          Outside, in the grassy lands, the dragons had all grown wings and were apparently ready to take off. A pile of conic shaped dirty sand was standing in front of the entrance, that Arona had never seen before.

                          She could feel Buckberry answer her unspoken question without even a word being uttered. It is soil from the cave, and we will use it now.

                          Arona watched the dragons rise in the sky full of damp gray clouds, and wondered what they were doing.
                          They are doing two things, Arona answered Malvina (again that disagreeable habit of reading thoughts, couldn’t help but think Arona, wishing there would be some World around where such thing wouldn’t be so easy), first they are checking what kind of creature are staying with us and following the movement, continued Malvina, ignoring the remark, and second, they are drawing with that sand from the cave a circle to enclose the area we want to move

                          Arona didn’t dare say the explanations were making her even fuzzier, so she nodded as if abreast of what was going on.

                          Popping sounds of the dragons blinking in and out to get some more dirt almost made her dizzy, and she forgot the strangest feeling she had when she thought she heard “the area we want to move”.

                          — Now, continued Mavina, the sabulmantium.

                          The dragons were now all back, and the pile of sand had disappeared.
                          Arona’s attention snapped back to herself, and she handed the fine object to the lady. She couldn’t help but notice the glowing eyes of Irtak, who apparently was very eager to see what would happen.
                          So he will move too, she thought, hope his father won’t be too sad… Why did she felt it was a separation from this place she had found she was liking…

                          — If you look closely, said Malvina to no one in particular, but Arona took it for herself, you will see how easy it is to come back if you feel so inclined.

                          At her touch, the coloured sands in the sabulmantium’s transparent dragon shell globe started to move. And all could see the cave being formed, with all the little people, dragons, glukenitches and even Leo and Mandrake… They were all here, enclosed into a circle of sand.

                          — Now, if you will follow me… said Malvina who traced on the ground a curvy symbol.

                          And very slowly, as the whole sand scenery inside the sabulmantium was turning in a round, they all felt as though they were dissolving into the air. Yet, they were all solid, and the interior of the cave was still too.
                          The only thing that was moving was the exterior, twirling and changing, getting out of focus, and moving erratically at the beginning, and then getting close to a focal point. Some fine tuning was occurring.

                          And in a snap,
                          The landscape
                          Was
                          In all its splendor…

                          — Greetings! a smiling couple at the entrance of the cave said to the people inside.

                          #2126

                          In reply to: Snooteries

                          The SnootThe Snoot
                          Participant

                            The Snoot is glad to allow your understanding of the situation that is not so easy to understand given the different probabilities involved in this sin aqua nun…
                            Thou shouldst open thy heart to the red juice of the red fruit of the redimensionality of the skull.
                            The nuns are not a particularly dangerous kind of people in that they are just red and fining their own understanding of the process of the energy of their snoot.
                            Each being has a snoot in it.
                            Sand Snow also is snootified in being here for saww slang.

                            Thou shouldst also watch the magpies as they are from the same tribe, though they act together.

                            The Cutie Snootie extends to thy all its snootpreciation in the form of a Gibbon.

                            Gibbon_.jpg

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