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  • #1061
    Jib
    Participant

      She had been taken to her room by a handsome young Russian after the onboard doctor, who was quite handsome too, had examined her. She had the vague impression she was turning a tad nymphomaniac. She chuckled and she stopped as soon as she realized she sounded like an old goose. No she would not loose her dignity. But she needed to release her tensions.

      The doctor had told her she was lucky they came at that very moment, but kept quiet after that. That she was aware of, but she couldn’t get more out of him and she was too tired to use her other tricks on him.
      Better rest a moment; she was confident she’d be kept up to date soon enough by Pavel.

      How strongly she was despising him…
      She didn’t know it was possible before their first encounter in Paris, years ago. :yahoo_thinking:
      Mixed feelings filled up those memories… :yahoo_angry: :yahoo_love_struck: it was also at the same time she’d met Georges, the Dandy as he liked to be called then. What a pair of thieves they were… When was it? 1852? 1853? She wasn’t sure…

      Her first mistake was to ask them to retrieve that stone from the antique store for her… Of course she hadn’t told them what she was looking for… she only asked them to steal everything in the shop! Still, they didn’t bring it back from the shop though she was positive the sunstone was there… they told her that was all they found; Georges seemed so sincere that she wouldn’t have thought he would double her and keep the stone… and much less use it. Soon enough… yes soon enough she realized she had been deceived.

      Her second mistake was to offer them an arrangement… but that’s another story. She was not as wary as she was now.

      She sighed. :yahoo_sigh:

      Nothing interesting to steal in that room. Just raw blankets and a plain wooden chair… she wouldn’t have expected more from Pavel. Always keeping the best for himself and not quite as chivalrous as the Dandy. Pavel… How did they call him back then? She couldn’t or wouldn’t recall it… something like the Monk… the Monkey would have better suited him, she thought bitterly.

      But now; she had no time to loose in dim memories.
      She had to plan her escape.

      knock knock

      It only took her a few seconds to compose herself.

      — Come on in.

      #1057
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Sam huh?

        Al was quite interested in the little furry creature. He suddenly remembered that when he had opened his old worn-out copy of the Yurara Fameliki stories at random this morning, he had found this excerpt about a guy wanting to get a dog… He could even remember the page number: 110.
        Al knew well enough that the book was a bit magic and that the described event would reverberate into his reality in many ways, but he didn’t know it would be in this strange fashion.
        Anyhow, he quite liked it.

        He was wondering now how Sam would do for the trip to the Floridisles with little Foxsam (huhu) —take it with them, or leave it for someone to keep?

        #1044

        Just behind the plumpy panting woman who was coming to the campfire, Balbina could see the most interesting waddling goat she had ever seen coming along.

        “And I suspect the goat talks too?” Balbina asked Yuki.
        “Oh, yes… lots even… But don’t expect to understand all she says” Yuki added with a bwink.

        Hahaha, Balbina was amazed. That place was the most delirious dream/out-of-body projection she’d had in a long long time. How entertaining.

        “Beh, don’t be fooled, Balbina dear, it’s all real. And you’ll know very soon.” the goat started to greet her.
        “And you are?”
        Rafaela, at your service.”
        “How many more like you are there here? I’ve never seen such a funny zoo…”
        “A great deal actually” answered Yuki “but not so many of them are focused in this form. You still have to meet our dear Armowlle, who is doing some spying business and occasional rescue missions on the island, and our soft Arailynx who is on more subjective missions currently…”

        Balbina was wondering “and why did you say I’ll know very soon?” she asked the goat.
        Rafaela answered with a mysterious smile “Because I’m planning to communicate a way out of this island to two of my little protégés, and I expect some of these people will follow. And you are very likely to meet them in the flesh when they get there.”
        “Really?!” Balbina was amazed. This dream was taking qualities of realness she wouldn’t have suspected the least it to have.

        “Now,” Yuki cut short the amazement moment “we need to have those among our friends willing to leave, to be prepared to leave at dawn.”

        “Okay” Anita, who had been seated on the sand quietly till then, rocking gently from side to side in a calm meditation, said softly.

        “Oh, she really can feel us talking…” Balbina said more to herself than to anyone else. And looking closely at the girl’s energy field, she could see how expanded it was, reaching those of Yuki, Kay the spirit dog, and Rafaela and even hers in luminous threads.

        “Not all of them are leaving tonight” answered Yuki to her unspoken question. “I think Anita and her parents will, but it’s more than probable than the others will stay. Some have business to do here, and others are in vacations huhu…”

        “You’re right, seems like the one with the strange energy field is gone already?”
        “Oh Claude, you mean. Yes. His mummification experience wasn’t too pleasant, and he has unfinished business with the people of the island; no wonder he prefers to stay here on his own.”

        (on the beach, around the campfire, in Regional Area 1, or physical reality)

        Awww, plane-crash you say? ‘ow wonderful… Mavis was chatting with Akita. Ye need to come with me, ye can’t stay ‘ere all night. Besides, Shar and Glaw will be so thrilled to see you. And we were starting to think it was all boring ‘ere; didn’t know they would have real survivors like on real-TV!

        Aaron and his familythey would probably need some better shelter, I assume. This probably would be best for us to come with you… Akita answered. And apparently, Claude has left, so that’s just us…

        Owlright then! Mavis beamed, come with me handsome! she said, clutching the soldier’s muscular arm under hers.
        Don’t worry Akita, we’ll follow you, said Anita to the soldier who was visibly appealed by the woman but was also weary to leave Anita alone with her sleeping parents. Besides, we can see the lights behind the trees, it’s very near…

        See you there Anita! Akita said to Anu
        Bye Akita! And don’t worry, Kay is always with you she said with a mysterious smile.

        As they walked side by side to the facility, Mavis said “Kay? A friend of yours?”
        “Oh, my lost dog… Nothing to worry about” answered Akita absently.

        #1040
        1da
        Participant

          7:33:59 AM 8-19-08 ∞1da Geolocation Time.

          days of sleeping slip by. the light on the peaks soft, golden in the cool dawn. a shiver. the water would be cold but thirst is a motivating factor. movement would mean warmth. birds flitting from branch to branch…

          stones to perch on. river jade at my finger tips. the babble of a quickly flowing stream. scooping with one hand to drink from a clear pool, the musky scent of cedar and low water.

          across the wide stream, a river. actually. no. the amount of water between a stream and a river. a young buck, head bent low also drinking. antlers. how are years marked again? two prongs on each side. is that two years after reaching mating age? or four. no matter. eyes latch across rapidly flowing water. we watch each other. both still, both quiet. both recognizing in each other another survival being of dreams.

          dream memory extending into long ago. no. longer than that. the rules to colonizing a planet. simple universal rules. one band of survival beings with a limited number of nuclear families from any survival being group that wishes to expand into livable planets. set down in one place – with nothing. no food. no implements. not even clothes. if they survive they colonize. if not. well. the universe is full of tried and failed experimentation. The pulse of all that is drawn into a black hole. drawn in and back out through tunnels of light that are trapped within the black hole…

          the fact that more than one form of survival being can attempt to colonize one planet at any given time is both an advantage and a disadvantage. they become resource for each other as well as competition – resource and competition, as is all that is within and upon the planet.

          still that cave, that First Cave. on the tip of the continent in the southern hemisphere… blue ocean view… a beginning that is long ago. how long ago? 160,000 planet years? 200,000 thousand planet years? late arrivals as we are, this is where our colonization is now. Digging to find those memories and what is left of that initial arrival…

          walking up this valley on the other side of a continent, an ocean away from First Cave… funny how time advances forward and backward in both directions – in all directions – and remains the same. This now is the same now as that now and remains the same in both directions as it passes around each of us.

          the sun trickling across the tips of trees lower and lower into the valley. another half an hour and it will be in my face.

          might as well eat breakfast while I walk. thimble berries, currents, oh! yarrow. i could make tea. – if I made fire. If I had fire… or i could make yarrow tea because i have sun. . .

          at peace within because i know i am returning to the High Portal Cave on the mountain, near the timberline. the central entrance, near the ancient pine. The safe harbor of the High Portal Cave, the entrance to a multitude of passageways, interconnecting chambers and stunning connecting points that open beyond this time and beyond this continent – before and after this continent. probably, through the right passage way opening beyond this planet. I don’t know that, it makes sense that it does. I believe I will find out in my memory or in my future. i remember some of these things and places. not all of them. i remember entering, finding the stone trough of water with the wooden drinking bowl on the damp ledge. i remember passageways that lead to incredible places and times. why return now? without knowing i know. this is the way it is because this is the way it will become.

          warm sun on my chest. warm from walking. birds, quiet as i approach, resume their constant foraging as i pass. along the shore the constant sound of the river stream like the white noise of the universe, beautiful and ever present so that if i am not mindful i no longer hear it.

          a walking stick. ok, a broken branch caught between boulders. still green enough to be strong, almost as thick as my forearm with little taper and altho it is not straight, it is a head taller than i am – perfect. a walking stick. a walking staff. i work it loose from the rocks. strange markings… the hand of an intelligent being – a gift then.

          do images become visible on these pages or only the thoughts and sights from within my mind, i wonder. i try to remember not to believe all that i think… if i wonder… then do i attempt to find out? yes, often enough, yes. and why is short hair exciting, new, a sign of adventuring? changes. oh. perhaps. or perhaps it’s a way of changing breath. I smile. I walk on.

          #1032
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Finnley looked appraisingly at her reflection in the mirroor of the staff toiloots. She turned her head, surveying herself from different angles. Sure, her hair was cut very short, but she had always thought it looked quite fetching and stylish, and so easy to care for.

            She turned over the empty cleaning bucket so she could stand on it to get a better view of her body in the mirroor. Perhaps the baggy blue cleaning dungaroos she wore were not the most flattering on her slim figure, yet incredibly practical nonetheless, with 6 large pockets. She had bought several pairs on special, so she could alternate them.

            That Elizabeth Tattler was clearly just one of the mindblown ones. Mad as Almad.

            And getting worse by the day!

            Perhaps it was just THAT time of the moonth, but for some reason Elizabeth’s insistence on referring to her as a male had really hurt Finnley today. Ever since she had attempted to help Elizabeth with the Island story by modifying the love scene , just slightly, Elizabeth had been intent on undermining Finnley’s sexooality. Not only that, she appeared to be fabricating Finnley’s involvement with the noovel she was writing. Just yesterday she had overheard Elizabeth telling her publisher, Bronkel, that Finnley was telepoothically implanting evil suggestions in her head.

            Finnley shook her head again, this time in bewilderment. For Foocks sake, someone should do something about that woman, before it is too late!

            Studying herself in the mirroor again she undid the top 3 buttons of the shirt she was wearing under her dungaroos and made a mental note to buy a poosh-up bra after work today. She mussed her hair up in what she hoped was a sexy look and made her way to clean the computer gooks office.

            #1031

            Naasir was feeling bombluebubbles of energies growling in his belly. Indigestion perhaps? Ahh…

            Stretching and yawning (as his teacher in natural envision had told him to do, as often as he felt the impulse to) with a thunderous sound that made the rocks around vibrate and collapse in a rain of rock dust, he finally settled on his back, looking at the stars that showed up in crevices through the cave’s roof.

            Though he was always in the same space, Naasir was feeling he was constantly expanding; and his dragonly vision too, helping him reach new vastness he could barely see before.
            Where would he project now?

            #1027

            She was the first to notice.

            First there was a loud bang, that she perceived as a shock wave rippling all around.

            Then, she felt a strange flabby thing with bat arms fall into the ocean, while the other energy was coming their ways. “Wow,” she couldn’t help but think; “they’re having unusual nightly activities around for such a small isolated island.”

            The dog resting by the fire got alerted then, and tried to wake up the others. But apparently, they seemed oblivious to it.

            Then, something stranger happened. The small white rabbit started to talk, as if it had been aware all along.
            “It’ll take a while for him to see you again Kay, just don’t yap like a silly dog… Besides, you’ll disturb our guests”
            “Guests?” the dog answered back.

            The moment after, the rabbit had disappeared from the girl’s lap, and was standing between her and the dog.
            “Welcome, Balbina”, he told her.

            “How do you know my name?” she was aghast, unable to say if it was for the talking rabbit, or for the fact it knew her name.
            Unperturbed, it continued “It’s a busy night. There are lots of things happening, and we hope you’ll stick around. It may be helpful for our friends here.”
            “Er… why not… I mean, yes, sure. And you are?”
            Yuki, at your service. I’m not really a rabbit of course, but that form is convenient”
            “And cute too…” she said tentatively
            “Thank you”

            Balbina had never thought a rabbit could blush, but she would have bet it was the closest thing to a blushing rabbit she had just witnessed.

            “Sorry to interrupt you,” Kay said, but who are the other guests?

            a shrilling voice came as an answer OOOOooohh a campfire! How cuty pooh! Wait till Sha and Glo see that, we could have some roasted marshmallows and pork chops! I’m feeling soooo hungry…”

            “Great… So much for our little secret expedition,” Claude sighed as he woke up.

            #1024
            Jib
            Participant

              Dory was digging in her garden. Today was hot and sunny, but she was an archeologist, she could handle it!
              She had a dream last night about a little bird talking to her and telling her there was something precious buried in her garden… well it was something like that, she couldn’t really remember… maybe it was in another dream… did she watch a series last night? The boys were still sleeping soundly, so she’d ask later maybe.

              The ground of the garden was tough! no wonder she never dug it before, or even did any gardening.
              Crap! She was wondering where the treasure could be, her garden was big, and she had begun under a tree, but maybe it wasn’t there… it seemed to her the perfect location though… it was like an X showing the place. It had always seemed a bit crooked to her anyway. She could get rid of it shortly with a truck… She’ll ask the boys later for that… maybe near the portal stones?
              She left here digging under the crooked tree and started removing the stones of what she used to call the portal.

              #1023
              1da
              Participant

                4:21:44 PM 8-8-08 1da Geolocation Time.

                sometimes the flow climbs a mountain.

                pause. step. quick step. pause again. step. upstream another step. the stones solid, smooth, settled beneath my feet with the timeless passing of water. the path of gravity. the rising of a mountain. a rapid, considered, going on pace. sand between the stones. the moments of time. light on the rippling waters flickering. the air transparent, timeless, crisp, cool.

                knowing i’ve passed this way before, i pass again for the first time.

                it’s good to be back. returning. beginning.

                knowing my destination. the cave far above beneath the ancient pine. the boulder near the rough and gnarled trunk, slick and smooth. so hard the sense is of softness gliding with my fingers over the iridescent surface. soft to sit upon, to watch the valley far below extending forever into the distance. soft to recline upon, arcing my back. the warmth of the day in the stone, lingering far into the night to heat my bones. …knowing my destination, i take the next step into all that is new.

                sitting near the water. deep transparent pools of green/blue. the setting red sun. a shelter beneath driftwood high on the bank. a myrtle tree draping a blanket of scent over me, opening my soul. with each breath. i watch the light fading into the words echoing through my skull… life is hard… the song…

                Life is hard
                Anyway you cut it
                Life is sweet,
                Like a berry from a tree
                Life is temptation, baby,
                Every single day
                Life is hard

                Life is funny,
                I dont mean ha-ha
                It‘s not always sunny,
                When it needs to be
                Life is frightening,
                Nothing lasts forever
                Life is hard

                My time
                Is next to nothing
                My time
                Falls on you, yeah
                Everything
                Is in motion
                Life is hard

                Life is precious,
                No matter how you see it
                Life is crazy,
                Like yellow fishes in the street
                Life is lonely
                When you‘re not with me
                Life is hard

                Gentlemen
                Is that you story?
                Hanging religion
                From a tree, yeah
                My time
                Is next to nothing
                Life is hard

                My time
                Is next to nothing
                My time
                Falls on you, yeah
                Everything
                Is in motion
                Life is hard

                My time
                Falls on you, yeah
                Life is hard
                Life is hard

                – J. Mellencamp – while on the planet earth.

                ok. life is also beautiful. – 1da

                it’s a cruel crazy beautiful world – J. Clegg – also while on the planet earth.

                stars flickering in the fading twilight. the silence of a light breeze as pine boughs begin to whisper. the ache of tall trees swaying in the night with a moan like countless masts on the tall ships of a planet. blink. and i sleep.

                #1019
                1da
                Participant

                  1da stood on the shore. amazement splattering awe across his universe. he knew as a seeker he had to return. his journey beginning once again, he watched closely as he stepped from stone to stone along the pathless shoreline of the clear water stream. the scent of cedar and low water rocks covered in moss penetrating deeply with each breath, he smiled… his return and arrival on this planet far into the valley he always and forever would returned to because it was the center of his seeking, he found the depth of his awareness opening…

                  “wait. which planet is this again? of the 19 it has to be one of my favorites.”

                  “timing is everything.” the whisper of the universe

                  “damp drats. missed again.” he replied to the babbling waters.

                  “greetings all ye who enter upon my existence.”

                  – 1da – as in the number 0ne (1) & da as in the smallest particle of nothingness. 8-07-08 …because of course 1da watches from a distance. planet geopositioning time being 4:27:42 PM in about the middle of the Pacific Pond.

                  #1011

                  A Pacific island then… she thought

                  Let’s move there…
                  She could feel her ghost body hover, like a feather sucked into a whirlwind.
                  She had to be confident she’ll snap back right at her lying body when she’ll be over with the trip.
                  Trust that everything will be okay. As it always were. Will always be.

                  She could see the Earth from above… The Pacific Ocean, its huge vastness, delimited by coasts of lights.

                  Oh, of course, she had not thought of that, but it was night there. She could see towns, concentrations of which were twinkling like shiny stars on a dark sky; but she didn’t want towns. Far too crowded, lots of energies that were maybe intoxicating at first, but she could feel she would be worn out in a second.
                  For, as she traveled in spirit, she had access to so much more information than people usually get with their physical senses alone,… it was hard to explain.

                  There… in that dark patch, when she moves closer, she can feel the immensity of the ocean surrounding everywhere. She moves closer to that long island that must be New Zealand, because she doesn’t want to be far from any sort of indication of her location. Keeping an eye on this, she spots something which isn’t a city light. It’s dancing, like a fire.
                  How can she spot a fire at that distance is beyond her understanding, but she has learned not to question, and act upon her impulses.

                  She wills herself at the fire.

                  Waves, the peaceful sound of the waves.

                  Around the fire, she can see a dog, crouched near a thoughtful man; there’s a young girl too, with a little white rabbit in her lap. The girl’s parents are resting in a hug, and a man with a strange energy configuration, the like of which she hasn’t seen, is closing the circle.

                  What a bunch of interesting people…

                  #1007

                  Fabella had just entered the room. She was chatting noisily, as if someone would answer to her. The sound of her footsteps was playing strange ripples on the wooden floor which were mesmerizing to look at.

                  “Years ago, I’d have felt obliged to answer her” she was thinking, as she was hovering over her body looking at the freckled nurse.
                  “I’d felt obliged by some nonsensical politeness to give her the impression that I was, somewhat, paying attention to her as a person —if not to her chatter.”
                  She laughed wholeheartedly.

                  “Oh, you’re smiling Madam, but that ain’t the whole thing, you know! Would you imagine that Miss Elena, after such an outcry would have become wiser, but no…”

                  The voice was continuing an endless litany of gossips.
                  It was obvious that the nurse wasn’t trying to get any answer, much less a conversation from the old body she was giving her daily injection to, she had found out. All the more since that body was so weak and talking was taking more energy than she was willing to give to this action. It was so much more exhilarating to play out of it.
                  She was proud of herself, having come to a place not only to feel accepting of that bodily condition that had left her riveted to her chair and bed at an early age, but more so, to feel grateful for it.

                  The first steps had been the most difficult: a whole new world so vast it was feeling as wide as a crocodile’s mouth menacing to engulf her. But like the crocodile’s mouth, it was easier to shut it close than one would think, and she had found out that she would snap back to her body each time she was distressed. Quite the opposite of what an adventurous mind like hers would endeavour to conquer. She had no care for her dying body, not with this new-found freedom.
                  Perhaps it was a mere springboard for her to get accustomed to death. That’s what her brother had told her once. But he was so fully soaking in religious beliefs that she didn’t know how to handle that he had merely said to her as a gift.
                  All that was important was the exploration, which was real to her. And it was, not only to her, but to others too.

                  For instance, she was now walking, still around Fabella, observing the interplay of the nurse’s energy field with the other people around her, even though Fabella had finished dealing with her minutes ago.
                  In fact, she knew more about Fabella than she could have learned in years of monologues with her. Things like that Ricardo wasn’t the caring guy he was pretending to be with her. But then, she didn’t know how to tell her (and if she had even the right to). She had the feeling that perhaps Ricardo and Fabella’s stories were just distractions that she had found to limit herself in the familiar of her little explorations.
                  There was so much more that she could do, she could feel it. There were no boundaries to it.
                  She could will herself to be in any place, unnoticed by most.

                  Perhaps she could try a “jump” to another location. Trusting that she would come back, as she always had. If if she wouldn’t… well, that could well mean an improvement after all.
                  What about something easy? Like some uncharted paradisaical island in the Pacific…

                  #1006

                  Bea sighed loudly, and dragged a tissue across her sweaty face. Leonora obviously hadn’t heard her, so Bea sighed loudly again.

                  What’s up with you now? asked Leo, who wasn’t really paying attention to Bea’s incessant whining.

                  Oh I dunno, I just don’t know what I want to do, Bea grumbled. My head’s in a fog. I’ve got hundreds of ideas, but I don’t want to do any of them badly enough to even think about starting anything. So then I try to sort a few thing out, you know, so I can bloody find things again, and I just end up with a big pile of bloody miscellaneous. It’s the bane of my life, all the miscellaneous stuff that defies categorizing. I should have been called Miss A. Laneous. I start to sort things out and then I get sidetracked; I never finish any sorting out, I just end up with more and more miscellaneous….her voice trailed off miserably.

                  Leo swiveled round in the computer chair, took off her glasses and glared at Bea. Bea, you know you always find what you need by trusting that you’ll find what you need when you need to find it. You’ve told me that time and time again. You’ve droned on and on about that, how you love finding ‘just the thing’ and ‘by accident’ and now you’re sitting there moaning and groaning because for some inexplicable reason ~ Leonora rolled her eyes ~ you think that having things neatly ordered would be a better way.

                  Well, it would be nice to be able to find what I’m looking for, Leo, Bea retorted.

                  Well if you found what you were looking for right away, you silly cow, you wouldn’t find all those other magical bloody surprises by friggen accident, now would you?

                  There’s no need to be rude, Bea said sniffily.

                  Now it was Leo’s turn to sigh. Why don’t you bugger off outside and find something to appreciate, you grumpy old bat. “Oh! look at this, Bea!” Leo exclaimed, “Look what I just found by accident!”

                  Leo swiveled the computer screen round so that her friend could see.

                  Illi sat up and surveyed her surroundings. The sky was a deep azure blue, the sun was making twinkling stars on the waters of the lagoon, a warm gentle breeze rustled the coconut palm leaves, and birds sang and twittered in the foliage. It was indeed idyllic, and Illi decided to simply enjoy it, while her new ideas formed into a reality.

                  Illi was enjoying a new found freedom in her contentment, in not pushing her energy in frustration, and meandered happily around the island taking mental snapshots of a thousand delightful and marvelous wonders, appreciating even the smallest most insignificant things. Time lost all sense of meaning: there were deep velvet indigo skies full of sequins, and there were abstract multicoloured sunrises and sunsets; there were cottonwool clouds in cartoon shapes suspended on a canvas of blue. It mattered not the day or night; there was no longer a sense of time passing, just a glorious collage of appreciation and beauty.”

                  Bea read the excerpt reluctantly, and harumphed.

                  Oh for Gut’s sake, Bea! Leo was getting exasperated. Try appreciating miscellaneous floundering fog then.

                  #1005
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    This I Ching business wasn’t very convenient to figure out, Al was thinking.
                    For Becky’s draw, he had more than a handful:

                    entry 3 (id:1610) #835
                    entry 2 (id:234) #171
                    entry 1 (id:1275) #638

                    All he had to do was relax, and know that the magic would appear by ways of his interpretation of these numbers.
                    He wanted to get 6 numbers out of these 3 comments. So, for each of the comments, he would make 2 numbers.

                    So, for the original comment IDs:

                    • 1275: 1 (odd) and 2 (even) gives (odd) ; then 7 and 5 gives (even)
                    • 234: 2 and 3 gives (odd) ; 3 and 4 (odd)
                    • 1610: 1 and 6 gives (odd) ; 1 and 0 gives (odd)

                    odd-even-odd-odd-odd-odd (what a bunch of odds, he thought, though barely surprised remembering the numbers came from Becky)
                    that’s 1-0-1-1-1-1 or |¦||||

                    From now on, he would spare everyone the maths, and play some interlude music while working out the magic.

                    (some lalala music) :yahoo_party:

                    and for the mutation (835,171,638): 1-0-0-0-1-1 or |¦¦¦||

                    And the result: ‘Fellowship of Men’ mutating to ‘Increase’

                    Bah… this is more fun to add more nonsense than try to figure out what it was all about. Al was finding it the moral of the story for today.

                    #1004
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Becky was undecided. Add to the last entry? Or start another? Grinning wickedly, she started another.

                      Her second impulse selection was a slightly late coincidence, but a coincidence notwithstanding. It was about Sand Dragons . A Few days previously Becky had been to an auction. She bid for and won a first edition copy of Wisp magazine; it had cost her an arm and a leg, but she was delighted with her purchase. It would increase in value, and was a delight to read some of the first published articles of the many authors, poets, artists and photographers who would later become famous. The article about sand sculptures had reminded her of the T.R.A.P. day out.

                      Well, how about that! exclaimed Becky, reading the rest of the comment. Wish House is one of my most favourites, and I chose it by accident!

                      She read:

                      Illi used to play a game with Cranky (as she affectionately called nanny Chraddock) in the long months while her parents were away, called Wish House. Every room in the sprawling Elizabethan house was a different time and place, and the moment they entered the room they imagined themselves to be different people, in other times. Petunia Duster the maid loved to join in too; consequently not alot of housework got done, but with Gus and Flora always off travelling, nobody minded. Playing was, after all, so much more important than dust. In fact, a thick layer of dust made the rooms all the more mysterious and magical.”

                      Becky ran her finger along the dust on her desk and smiled.

                      OH! Becky jumped. I almost forgot to make a note of the number, now what was it? she mused, scratching her head. I think it was 171 :notepad:

                      Becky wondered whether or not to start another entry. Intuitively, she chose not to. Her third random choice was another synchronicity with the first edition of Wisp: it was about pyramids in Spain. The first edition of Wisp magazine was particularly valuable as it was the first mention in print of the discovery of the Iberian pyramid culture.

                      Number 835 she noted :notepad:

                      #998
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        “Okay,” Al started.
                        “At the essence of I Ching, is the notion that everything is mutable, and changes. Everything changes, except the law that says that everything changes.
                        “In many ways, the I Ching is like a book where the pages numbering change every time you start to read it. Not unlike our story composition.”

                        “I get that,” answered Tina, interested by what would come out.

                        “So,” Al continued, always disagreeably pondering, Tina would say. “usually, when people are drawing to read from the I Ching, they have six numbers that give an hexagram. And these numbers are carrying into them their potential change, which usually gives another hexagram to read.”
                        “In our stories, the entries have a fixed identity, which is given by the system; this is our starting point. For your comments, this is ’4-191-328’.
                        “But as everything evolves, our entries are given an order in the book; this order is changeable, and that’s what I will use for the second hexagram; in your case it’s ’2-151-223’.”
                        “If you say so…” Tina sighed, a bit lost.
                        “Oh, I’m inventing the rules as we speak,” Al said trying to reassure her somewhat.
                        “I don’t know if that makes me feel better” she said.

                        “Okay. Now, I need to create the hexagrams; hexagrams are defined by six straight or broken lines; zero or one, binary system. Here, Chinese usually use the convention that odd is straight, and even is broken… Ahaha, doesn’t seem to make sense, but odd is male, unbalanced into action, and is associated with single, straight things. Broken is paired, complete in reflection, unbalanced in passivity.”

                        “And I wonder when we actually start to hear something that makes sense?” whispered Tina, a bit crossly.

                        “Okay, the thing I see, is that I have trouble making one hexagram with seven numbers, ahaha”, Al laughed a bit embarrassed.

                        “Oh, then no point in wiggling like that” said Tina very sweetly, “Scrap any bit that bothers you”.

                        “Okay, anyway we can go deeper into them afterwards if needed; I’ll scrap the first number rather than the last, because you see, 2 and 4 are both even, and thus there is no mutation here.”

                        Original Mutation
                        8 ╌ 3 —
                        2 ╌ 2 ╌
                        3 — 2 ╌
                        1 — 1 —
                        9 — 5 —
                        1 — 1 —
                        4 ╌ 2 ╌

                        “So here we are, if we scrap the bottom one, we get…”

                        #985

                        The door of the garage opened with a creaking sound, and Madame Chesterhope sped up into the gritty alley.
                        In that dimension where she had hidden her command base, people were a bit sloppy about roads and tarmac, so she had designed a little modification on her machines to be able to levitate in some of the less practical areas; but she had to admit,… she loved the vibrations and bumps that the motorbike created with the friction of the ground surface.
                        She started to giggle, all enthusiastic about the speed and the wind in her hair, that she ignored the road sign indicating that the road was flooded some miles ahead. The rain had been pouring cabbages all past hexades, so much so that her leather suit was in all honesty the best thing she could have worn, not to mention the fact of course, that it was making her totally sexy.
                        Two peasants were coming her way, looking at her with wild eyes like they had just seen something otherworldly. Ahahah she laughed, the fools would soon have forgotten everything about it (another handy and sly magical modification she nodded to herself). Looking in her rear mirror, she could still see them wiggle their hands in a frenzy… What the fl…!

                        :fleuron:

                        On the road, the two peasants wondered what in the name of Shaint Lejus was that rider… But worse, it was heading straight to the pool that the swollen river had made recently, outpouring on fields and little sniggly and thorny paths, like this one. Making desperate signs to be seen and warn it, they watched in horror the black podgy thing with flabby flapping schpurniatz arms sink straight to the bottom of the pool.

                        :fleuron:

                        The landing was a bit bumpy, but she found her balance quickly. Those transdimensional puddles were a bit rough to get accustomed to, but once you knew how to manipulate it, you couldn’t forget it.
                        Now, all she needed to got to the location she was heading to was to hop through a few more transdimensional puddles.
                        Actually, all sorts of puddles could do the job, water puddles, even oil puddles… or run-over poodle puddles for that matter. She preferred water ones, for the quality of water was very fluid, and allowed for easier defocusing. Lately she had tried transdimensional exhaust fumes clouddles, but that was a bit disorienting more than helping.
                        As far as she could tell, this first one had been projecting her to a dimension in between Earth and the Duane. Incorporating vibrational qualities of the two, with a little more rigidity though. The machine needed a little time to stabilize and get prepared for the next transdimensional jump.
                        As far as she could tell, she was in a place that was not unlike her birthplace, in the countryside of England. There were occasionally some giveaways that she still wasn’t quite there yet, like an erratic flying schpurniatz, but she was close now.
                        A few meters in front of her, she could see a lovely puddle that could do for the next jump. A bit small for her… well, motorbike, what were you thinking… but that would probably do it. She took another breath, then pushed the TDPP (Trans-Dimensional Puddle Propeller) button.

                        :fleuron:

                        Flof-flof-flof-flof…
                        Bugger, bugger…. What the bloody heck!

                        Straw was flying all over her hair, and obfuscating her vision… Darn last puddle had to much mud in it, and her concentration went off for a split second, heading her towards a field of barley.
                        Turning round and round for a moment in complete disorientation, she finally pushed the levitation button to take a little altitude.
                        Oh, now,… at least she could tell she was in England, because she knew that place.
                        How perfect! She could now just move into the dimension to the Pacific island. The GPS included in the modern expensive motorbike had been bipping as soon as it had found again the satellites, and it was now pointing the direction.
                        Giggling again, she pushed a new button and disappeared into the sky in a supersonic puff of smoke.

                        :fleuron:

                        a few days later, Chestershire, UK

                        AFP - 2008-07-21 - An new amazing design has been reported by eye-witnesses
                        on a crop of barley of a local farmer along with reports of strange booming sounds
                        and orbs of light. A sight to behold, the delicate intricacy of these interwoven
                        patterns is believed by many to be the work of the Crop-circle Makers, some
                        alien intelligence desiring to communicate with us. The theme of this crop-circle
                        is thought to be a variation on planet Venus cycles, and would be highlighting
                        the number of cycles lefts until the notorious end-date of Mayan calendar,
                        Dec. 21st 2012. Scientists have brushed off the allegations of elderly pranksters,
                        as this one seemed to have required levels of astronomical knowledge far beyond
                        human intelligence.
                        #973

                        It’s been now a few months Malvina had relocated the cave to a new place and she’d been starting to reunite with her sisters in unexpected ways.

                        But now, she was longing for something more. She wanted to find someone with whom to share more. To reflect the outpurring love.
                        Leormn was smiling as he reached for her inner dialogue. Ever since Georges and Salome had brought them to this new place, the dynamic had changed, and there were new adventures showing up.

                        #947

                        Orgetak was fond of taking a crocodile as an animal essence.
                        He was coming from a fragmentation of some big names of Essence Land, and he shared many connections with lots of other “essences siblings”. In that moment, he was having fun observing Rafaela… though he was having a weird sense of wanting to merge more thoroughly with her… perhaps that crocodile disguise was cloaking his judgment… He wasn’t too sure.

                        He had focused recently, to catch up with one of Rafaela’s own focuses, a rather famous one, whose genetic pool was a magical blend which would be spread in many new enticing physical probabilities. In a haste, despite of no time by which to measure it, he had created himself a past of an Sri Lankan geneticist named Dr. Gayesh Sitharaya, whose interest (or intent) dwelt in exploring the multiplicity of one individual’s aspects…

                        :fleuron:

                        What’s the catch then?
                        What do you mean Al?
                        Oh, come on Tinipooh, you know there’s always a catch… Surely Becky mentioned that on the phone…
                        Ahaha, are we speaking of the same Becky? :yahoo_rolling_eyes:
                        Well, why would that guy help her anyway. And I’m not really sure having another her on the loose is of any help for that matter :yahoo_hypnotized: Sounds more like a world domination plan to me… :yahoo_dontwannasee:
                        Well, you know Becky, always blissfully jumping in the stream, even if it’s full of piranhas. It’s good she even thought of giving us a call…
                        Yeah, too bad our thought reading techniques seem to get less and less reliable these days…

                        #941
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Becky and Sean had been honeymooning in Galle , on the southwestern coast of Sri Lanka, for just over a week. It hadn’t been going too well, truth be told, as Becky had become increasingly frustrated at her broadening waistline, and Sean had discovered the joys of cashew fenny liquor.

                          You’re not getting fat, Becky, you’re pregnant! slurred Sean, taking anoter swig of fenny.

                          Becky scowled at him. Bugger off you drunken twat, she said huffily. Some fucking honeymoon this is! You’re always too drunk to get it up, and I can’t fit into any of my clothes.

                          Sean sighed, and staggered out onto the hotel room balcony, clutching his bottle of liquor.

                          Oh I can’t stand this! shouted Becky, I’m going out.

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