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AuthorSearch Results
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May 16, 2008 at 8:04 am #888
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Franiel lifted the metal latch and pushed open the creaking door of the old shed. In the darkness he could make out of the shape of boxes and other various objects, then, as his eyes became more accustomed to the darkness, he saw the motorbike propped up against the far wall.
What are you up to young man?
Franiel jumped and spun around. It was Lydia, just returned from her journey to the market.
Oh hello again! You startled me … Phoebe suggested I check out the motorbike, see if I can get it going.
Lydia looked grave. Did she now? Well it’s been many a long year since that piece of junk worked. Anyway so you’ve met Madame Chesterhope then, and what did you make of her? She was giving Franiel that deeply penetrating stare again. Franiel wondered kindly if perhaps she was shortsighted.
Oh very nice … and I met Vincentius the parrot too.
Lydia chuckled. Did you now?
Yes, actually Phoebe told me a rather unusual story.
At that Lydia broke into gales of laughter. Let me guess, about mixing the aura and the egg?
Yes, that’s right, replied Franiel, his face breaking into a smile too as he realised the absurdity of it.
Lydia wiped the tears of laughter from her face. ’Ere Lad, I told you things are not what they always seem. She thought for a moment. I’m parched from my long walk, I am going inside to make a brew. Why don’t you join me? If you are going to be stopping then there are a few things you need to know.
May 16, 2008 at 12:28 am #884In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Tina sat for some time in the cafe after Becky had left, pondering the implications of Becky’s secret. Becky was right, it was quite exciting in a way, however the repercussions left her reeling … honestly you would think a time traveler would have more sense …
She scratched her head absentmindedly, her scalp had been very itchy lately. She wondered if she had better stop using her homemade egg hair shampoo. Well that was a bugger. She had been planning on marketing it through her business… HEGG FIRST SHAMPOO, with cute little egg people wearing shiny glossy wigs on the label … and, as a special limited time offer, she had been going to give away free Holy Water Conditioning Rinse as well. Sam had kindly agreed to bless it for her with this didjereedoo.
She looked up just as a female entered the cafe, straight jet black hair, large dark sunglasses, fishnet tights and knee high boots. A black trench coat completed the stunning ensemble. Wow! thought Tina, She looks amazing, so eneggmatic and sexy. As though she had heard her thoughts the woman turned, and upon catching Tina’s eye, hurriedly looked away and walked quickly out of the cafe.
How odd, thought Tina.
Later, as she was researching black wigs on the internet … of course she could change the colour and structure of her hair through mind techniques, but that was still a bit slow for Tina, Al entered the room.
Tina, are you busy?
Uh Oh! Tina knew that tone of voice. She braced herself. Could Al have heard about Becky’s news ??? She told Becky there were no secrets!
Your latest comments in the reality play are really really great. Most entertaining and unusual.
Uh, thanks …. Tina said cautiously.
I was just wondering however whether you had considered the time frame of your characters?
Oh yeah course … you know .. give or take a few years .. or so …
There are a few discrepancies I noticed, he went on, and it really does become rather problematic, some might say “messy” even.
Tina rolled her eyes and grunted non-commitedly.
Thanks Sweetie, I knew you wouldn’t mind sorting it out, said Al.
May 13, 2008 at 8:35 pm #873In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
A few moments later she was not so sure.
What’s the matter?
Oh you know … I am a bit distracted …too much going on I guess. She did not want to tell him that she could feel the presence of Mahiliki strongly in the room, his sweet trusting face gazing reproachfully at her. He would be worried about her, worried about the storm. She wondered how he was getting on.
I understand, he smiled ruefully, it’s hardly perfect timing is it? Anyway that wasn’t the reason I asked you to meet me here, but I guess it just seemed like too good an opportunity to miss.
I am sorry, she said, rolling her eyes.
Maybe some other time. He handed her a robe.
Sure. She wrapped it tightly around her. Anyway, the Doctor?
All taken care of. I left Nurse Bellamy administering warm coconut milk, unbeknowst to her laced with a sedative. The Doctor will be peacefully sleeping for at least 24 hours.
And Jarvis?
Jarvis is an opportunist, but not dangerous. He was employed by the Doctor as a bodyguard, but has since changed sides. He is now working as a spy for the Magpies.
The Magpies?
Your hunch was right. The Magpies are operating on the Island, and they plan to strike soon.
Sha was gazing dejectedly at herself in the mirror. Glor what d’ya reckon. Are all these bloody beauty treatments working or wot?
Course they are!
They looked at each other. Well, maybe it’s a bit soon to tell eh? she said doubtfully.
Mavis! Sha shook the lump covered completely by blankets huddled on the bed. Come on Lovey, the storm won’t urt you. What d’ya reckon Mavis, ‘ow do we look?
A dishevelled head popped out. You both don’t look no bloody different to me, ‘cept you’ve put weight on, she said honestly.
Well that bloody does it, said Glor, We’d better find that Vessie, find out wots wot!
May 12, 2008 at 2:54 pm #866In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
When Sam explained gently to Becky about the essences waiting for an entry point into this dimension, the ones that had chosen her, Becky, she was at a loss as to know what to think.
Well I don’t want to let them down, Sam, she said mournfully.
Sam laughed and said, You won’t be letting them down, silly. They’ll find another entry point. There’s no shortage of pregnant women in this dimension, you know.
But I feel like they’re mine already, Sam, I feel responsible for them now.
Laughing loudly, Sam reminded her that resposibility was her own core truth, and not an absolute one. Other essences are not your responsibility, you daft goose!
I know that, but I feel somehow connected to them now. I’ll always wonder about them, worry that they made a bad choice and chose a horrid entry point…her voice trailed off, and then she giggled. I’m talking absolute rubbish aren’t I?
Frankly, yes, dear, winked Sam. Anyway, aren’t you confusing two separate issues here, Becky? In the future probability that you viewed, Sean was a drunkard, and you had many children. They are not necessarily connected, you know. Sam winked again, and Becky blushed and whacked him over the head with the cushion she’d been clutching.
Oh stop! I haven’t even been on my honeymoon yet!
May 10, 2008 at 10:18 pm #858In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Sam looked puzzled at the flurry of new comments that had appeared like a cluster of ripe “groiselles”.
Having been plugged on the Reality Play Channel, he had been enjoying the activity like a buzzing hive of frantic bees in the background, but decided to get back to his forging of a Jedi light saber.
The recent didjeridoo adventures had given him some particular insights on how sounds could be manipulated to model matter, and he had decided to adapt a tutorial he had found on the network on how to craft a light saber from carton wraps and glowing sticks. Except that he would do it almost from scratch, starting with a jar of vegemoth…As for Al, as he couldn’t resist a peek, he started to wonder what this red currant frenzy was all about. He knew well enough “groseilles”, as his aunt would make delicious red currant jelly in the bayou. But “groiselles”, he checked quickly seemed to be an ancient variation of the word… How odd… Becky’s clue-sowing (a bit Cluseau-ing, indeed
) talent was really shining in her typos…
May 10, 2008 at 6:59 pm #853In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Leah picked her way carefully across the living room, stepping over the sprawled limbs of sleeping guests. The party last night had been a wild one, and overflowing ashtrays and empty bottles littered the room, not to mention a rag taggle assortment of snoring bodies. Leah picked up her laptop and made her way to the kitchen. She rubbed her eyes and yawned as the kettle boiled, and checked her emails.
L.E. Muir
R. Abbott &CoChoosing to deal with work correspondence after a few cups of coffee, Leah clicked on the next one.
Luce Mong
c/o Leah MuirHhmm, it’s from Becky Vane Wrick. I wonder who that is? I wonder if it’s that gal we met in Long Pong last year?
May 10, 2008 at 6:14 pm #851In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“Wow, it was starting to become a hell of a smoky place place in there!” Al was thinking. “Better bugger off before I get asphyxiated” as a tornado of numbers and probable numbers of plans started to whirl in a tornado coming in his direction.
Poof he was back home.
“At least, Becky was home…” he said to apparently no one. “So I suppose everything is alright now.”
You should have listened to me Al sweetie, Tina answered, while brushing her luscious hair in the bathroom. I’ve told you Becky was fine. Though I wonder where that strange reindeer-legs-addicted chaperon of hers disappeared…
May 10, 2008 at 5:57 pm #850In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Stop it, STOP IT! Becky shouted, clamping her hands over her ears, It was a futile action, as the voices were inside her head, and not likely to be halted by her pointless automatic reaction.
She lit a cigarette with shaking hands and picked up a magazine in an attempt to calm down. She opened the copy of Crisp at random, her eyes unfocused.
I’ll think about this later, she said to herself, when I’m feeling a bit better. Relaxing her tense hunched shoulders, she focused on the glossy pages. She had opened the magazine to the Essencopes page, and read the Borledim forecast for the month ahead.
That’s it! She said excitedly. I’ll change my alignment! I’ll change it to, um, let me think…..
Becky sighed, muttering to herself, How on earth does one change ones alignment?You said you were going to ‘think’ about it tomorrow, said the voice.
Bugger off, you. Becky snapped. Good point, though.
She picked up Crisp again, this time noticing that the scopes were written by her old schoolfriend, Luce Mong.
Luce! Well, I never! exclaimed Becky with a smile. Luce Mong! Last I heard she was in Long Pong with Leah Muir. I wonder where she’s living now?
May 10, 2008 at 4:03 pm #849In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Al had just inadvertently telepathically overheard Becky’s long monologue, and was rather amused at the situation that he decided to stay quiet and refrain from intervening.
It was a sort of interesting experience, to see how it would develop…A voice was starting to make itself heard through Becky’s neuronal pathways though… A feminine voice first… Then a male…
He could even sense a third presence too…Al was surprised, as he apparently didn’t really care about what kind of probability would express itself. It seemed it was all valid, and yet, there was something that wanted to make itself heard.
Becky was quiet now. She seemed to have finally seen that nothing would happen as intensely and quickly as in her swift imagination.
But Al was intrigued… Who were those presence, they felt lively, very humorous too. But they were concerned about Becky’s changes of mood. They were considering probabilities too, as though Becky’s choices were important to them.
— We are the first-borns of Becky answered the feminine voice who had keep still.
— Potential first sniggered the male voice.
— Oh, shut up, Oliver the third one said you know well enough we are creating our realities, so better give her some time… No need to freak her out… After all, it’s like for Dory’s nine dogs, they only came gradually, and she just accepted them…Dory? Al was wondering… He had heard that name recently… At the wedding party perhaps?
— Dory’s a past overlapping focus of Becky and her step-mother too… answered Léan, the quiet one.
Al was befuddled. He had first thought these voices were only Becky’s playing games with herself.
— Oh sure it was, answered Oliver, we’ve just be using that wave of thoughts to bring us through. It’s very multi-layered.
— See, take the dogs which Illana talked about right now. You know some of these dogs Dory had (or has, or will have), they have “flecks” of people close to Dory, other essences’ energies. Some are very clearly noticeable, other are more mingled. These voices are multiplexes of voices, more or less subtle energies being expressed. Some are very deep. We were riding the surface of them.So, Illana, Lean and Oliver? That’s it?… Nice to meet you… Al was still thinking aloud (like in big characters printed on a silent kaleidoscopic screen)
And that will be your focus names? Oh, yes… probable ones.
It’s funny you know, it’s like you are becoming more real now. I can feel some associations coming that help bring you into form. Like Oliver, I associate him with a black dog of Dory. A little grumpy one with funny black eyes.The two female laughters mingled into one delightful chorus. Ahaha, we will give you a point for accurate connection!
“And Léan,” Al continued, “you feel like a young blond woman, friend of Dory ready to get married… Yet, I can see you have a black complexion in this probable focus, unlike your siblings… Sounds a bit confusing…”
— Ahaha, another point!
“Let me see, Illana now… I got you connected with another friend of Dory… An paleontologist or geologist, living in the US, blond lively woman with painted nails, and… the image is just gone now…”
— Hehehe, that’s close enough, said Illana’s voice. I can see we’ll meet soon Al…
And the moment after, the wisps of light were gone.
May 9, 2008 at 3:21 pm #2024In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
Within window, lady angels wonder
Pink show kept egg focused
Funny smile Tracy moose
Food focus
Dreams given starting hope
WordMay 9, 2008 at 1:15 am #838In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
West Cork, Ireland, Summer of 2051
As she walked along the rocky trail bordering the coast where occasionally whales could be seen at a distance, she was humming deep sounds and harmonies in the damp air filled with the echoes of the cool wind.
She was aware of distant focuses of herself, living around that place. Past focuses, in that land of the druidesses and druids, and another one, closer to her, in some probable future. Like this other focus, she loved the whales too, and she was able to communicate with her. Catherine Wrick would have loved to be able to live in such a crystalline place she could envision with her eyes closed.
Her woolen black coat would let the wind insinuate itself through the layers of clothes, and she was starting to feel a little cold now. Temperatures were colder than they used to be in the past, and even now in summer, they would rarely go higher than 15°C. It was time to get back home. She whistled Merlu, her golden labrador, back, and still nestled into her dream-like attention, slowly walked towards her house.
In the comfort of her dome house, she started to leaf through the messages and reminders that she had in a pile on the bed table. Nothing much of interest, except that in a few months time, it would be the first birthday of the twins…
Her step-mother Dorean had sent her two books, when she had learned of the birth of the twins. They were to return to them, when they would be seven, she’d say.
Why seven?, she’d asked… Dorean had answered that seven was the perfect age for them to get them back —their intuitive abilities would still had much potential, and they would be mature enough to understand and use the books. It was no use for herself to keep the books any longer.As she was going to sit in her antique rocking chair for a smoke, Catherine noticed a faint cracking sound. Perhaps Merlu was playing with those hard-boiled eggs she’d been painting recently, without much success, to try to reproduce the perfect glowing green colour of her grandfa… Another crack. She stopped and listened again.
It couldn’t be Merlu: the dog was now barking.She started to wonder Could it be?… After all those years of keeping them…
The sound was definitely coming from the reading room where the big eggs were put on display…
April 27, 2008 at 9:04 pm #1787In reply to: Synchronicity
Bijoux sounds cool to me too, I wonder why….:yahoo_thinking:
April 27, 2008 at 1:00 am #830In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Holy Moly, that was quite a ride! whispered a beaming Ella Marie, who had been enjoying herself immensely. The dinghy and its strange cargo drifted on the open sea, the storms passed and the ocean calm and moonlit.
The floodwater currents had swept them along and Ella focused on avoiding obstacles like signposts, feeling exhilarated and alive with excitement.
Oy, we’re in the Gulf of Mexico now! she cackled, Lordy, I wonder where we’ll end up.
Elioctyl grinned.
April 15, 2008 at 3:21 pm #1783In reply to: Synchronicity
I noticed so many car number plates today, I think I must be counterpartying with Flove. Now let’s see if I can remember them all:
Recently I noticed a car (a Kia) with an FK and a few 5’s and 7’s on the plate and thought of Finkleways and Flork. Next to it was a car with 8888. Today whilst driving along I noticed 6688FK and thought of Finkleways and Flork again. As if to reiterate, I saw 22FK next. Then FSH caught my eye, and I thought of the old meditation snippet I found yesterday in which I describe Franci as ‘a bit like a fish’ (in that particular impression, I hasten to add). Wondering whether I was pushing the Franci syncs, the very next car was DWL, which looked very much like OWL.On the way home I saw three cars with 57 on the number plate. Oh and I saw DDD and DD; lots of double numbers today and lots of FK’s.
April 15, 2008 at 10:31 am #2022In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
Within dark laughing, light smiled
Wondering synchs gibbon
Others behind walk
Mind moment wondered
connection stopped?
Although
Brought hand friends free.April 11, 2008 at 6:46 pm #825In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
When he first witnessed how the traveling portals worked, Badul had been greatly impressed. No such magic existed on Asgurdy, and even though is was supposed to be a small portal, it was greater magic than anything his imagination could have devised.
He and his crew were so much impressed that Badul had required his small crew to settle down so that they can study further the thing. Tomkin had frowned a bit, as he was eager to continue and above all to leave this uncharted district ruled by a fierce warlord (or “governor”, as it was required to address him) in a moistly forest miles away from any living creature, but then again, Badul’s orders were not to be discussed.The portal was constituted of a wide circle of heavy limestones, with two crossing arched vaults made of limestones too, with smaller blue stones incrustations of various shapes tucked into round holes regularly scattered along the vaults. These smaller stones could apparently be rearranged, and Tomkin and Badul quickly figured out they were used to determine the coordinates of the various places they would be traveling to. This portal, they’ve been explained had a set of other stones, ocher and dark red ones which were not part of the traditional set of the main network on the continent. Their design was not overly displayed as the others which were left on the portal at all times. They were carried on the spot by one of the generals of the local governor, and used under strict guidelines, for fear that the parallel network would be uncovered.
It took Badul a dozen of hexades to relinquish his fear of the unknown magic that made people disappear and reappear in thin air. He was a brave man, and that which he could see with his own eyes was no longer deemed irrational. It was very real, and he could use it. And there was no point in delaying the experience of it, as it was the only way for him to conquer his turmoil.
So, on that fine morning of the falling season, he decided to move. Genflik Thran, the local governor, had come to appreciate the help Badul and his men had provided him in loading and unloading the cargoes of goods which were banned on various parts of the Warring Kingdoms nonetheless traded on the black market with great benefits, and occasionally escorting them to some of the nearest villages. But the deal had been made clear from the start: he would allow Badul and his men to use the network in exchange of two hexades of service. In fact, they had repaid the debt largely already.
So he agreed to let them go on their journey and provided him and and his crew enough supply to continue their trip for quite some days. And as a token of appreciation, he allowed Badul to choose his destination, a privilege that was rarely granted, as usually people where glad to take whatever ship was about to depart.Badul turned to Tomkin, wondering where they could go next.
“There are a few villages I heard of” Tomkin said after having pondered, “in the valleys down Mount Elok’ram. I heard this place is the tallest of the World, and is full of ancient powerful magic. Perhaps we can go to one of these villages, as I don’t think there is any portal on the top of the mountains.”
“Ahaha, yes, you’re right” had smiled Genflik Thran “I’ve been heard there is a monastery on top of this mountain, but no portal unless you go in the valleys. Not that they couldn’t have built one, but they thought it would soon become too crowded and… how did they said? Yeah, unholy… with the ease of a portal access. Now, perhaps that with the new Abbott, it will change… who knows. We already have approached him, and he seems a man with a nice sense of compromise, for the good of all, ahahaha!”
“What’s this village called?”, asked Badul
“ Chard Dut Jep “ answered Genflik Thran “I have a local contact there, a witchy woman, with some sense for business too, when you’re there, ask for her, people call her Madame Chesterhope. Just don’t forget to mention you are coming on my advise, or else the bitch might reserve you a trick or two of her own, ahahaha!”.
“To Chard Dut Jep then!” cheered Badul, and his crew echoed with him.April 11, 2008 at 6:42 pm #824In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Midora was perplexed. These books were like an open-ended uncharted territory. That territory was so vast and fractal-like in nature that each attempt at following a single thread seemed daunting. There were always details growing like a reckless plant from the entry points where she started her investigations. Badul seemed lost in this jungled maze.
Last time she’d tried to connect, she ended up with another focus of his, a child, vaguely related to the crystal skulls hunt.All it requires is a proper compass to navigate the thought suddenly appeared in her mind as clear as daylight, carrying with it a trail of concepts and clusters of associated ideas.
One in particular…
She’d had that book of designs she’d always loved to read when she was a child. It was full of colorful symbols which were called by the authors “tiles”. The authors associated some properties to them, and she remembered one which was about a compass…
So she had found a compass… Now, she would have to learn how to use it. The introduction of the book said:The tiles presented in this book all have different functions; they can be primarily understood as focal points which enhance specific uses of energy. […] As far as we know, they can be discovered in many situations, either objective events (e.g. something that catches your gaze in the street) or in the subjective (dreams, visions, inspirations etc.). In both cases, the recognition is instantaneous, as each tile carries a distinctive energetic signature which is the essence of its “function”, so to speak.
As such, it can be used theoretically in both situations (subjective and objective), though, as far as we have explored, subjective interaction with them seem to be the easiest and most quickly rewarding way of accessing them.Subjective interaction, yes that was child’s play, she would have said, though she could vaguely understand why people before the Shift completed had more trouble accessing it. Objective wasn’t so difficult, once you get to the idea that it’s all one, and you can easily switch from each of the attentions used to focus on them.
The only thing that doesn’t seem to change, she thought, is the numbering. Even when the events shuffle through the pages and reorder themselves, or even when the very energy of the event subtly changes, their numbers were the same. She could start with that.
She cleared her mind, envisioning the compass, then took a deep breath and asked herself a question, Where do I find Badul?
Slowly, the compass started to shift and turn, while numbers started to roll in front of her mind’s eye, and like a lottery, at each draw a number appeared, slowly revealing a number: 1-2-3-8She eagerly leafed through the books to find the reference. Well… that was more perplexing than ever, that seemed like a totally unrelated story.
But now, she was not so sure about that, as she read the entry and wondered about the fact that it seemed once again different from the first time she’d read it.And now, she marveled as a new entry started to write itself under that one. It was the first time she actually saw an entry write itself. Those she had spotted that were not here before, she just assumed they had appeared instantaneously. But not this one… and it started to link Franiel’s and Badul’s explorations…
April 11, 2008 at 4:47 pm #823In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
It had been more than a week now that Claude had broken loose from one captivity to fall into another.
Not that this gang of strange shape-shifting magpie beings seemed to consider him a captive, rather an impromptu host that they felt obliged to take care of. But Claude wasn’t duped one moment.His precedent prison on Tikfijikoo had been relatively easy to break out from, thanks to that unasked for gift of preternatural strength he had gained from the experiments he had be subjected to. Actually, had he not almost been driven mad from pain, he would have been on the loose earlier. Thank the Magpies for his recovered sanity…
Security on the island facility wasn’t the highest and most difficult he had been confronted to. They seemed to consider the relative isolation of the island and its deadly sharp coral reef encircling it their main asset in keeping their experiments clear from outside interferences.Claude snapped back from his thoughts and gazed fixedly at a tender green sprout at his feet while humming a nursery rhyme. An effective trick.
He had to be more cautious… He knew they could read his surface thoughts…
Apparently, he could come and go as pleased him, but as he had tried to find his way back to the island facility, he had discovered that the landscape was changing each time he felt close to it. And soon enough, he was finding himself back to the hidden settlement. He knew enough to suspect his affable alien hosts of playing tricks on his mind to keep him in check. Perhaps they were even bending space around their settlement, as far as he knew…
Not intrusive, and yet not a very different treatment from the inhumane experiments. Except he had no mummy bandages this time…Know thy foe so went the adage, and Claude was determined to know enough about his new captors to escape and complete his mission.
From what he was guessing, as they had not killed him, they probably would release him (if he was lucky) as soon as their mission would be completed —a mission which was most probably the same as his own. Snatching the crystal skull he knew was there somewhere. He could sense they were after it too.
He was wondering who had hired them to retrieve the thing. Obviously they were not from the common lot of thieves, most certainly not even from this planet, and anyone who had hired them must have been in dire need of the thing.
He had been told by the Baron that the crystals were storing ancient vast knowledge and that accessing it had been only possible since a few decades, actually since the discovery of coherent beams of light (laser). But even accessed, the information stored remained vastly incomprehensible, and deciphering it could take another millennium without appropriate knowledge of its holographic proprieties.
The Baron had told humanity was like a child being given a box of books on relativity… And even the mad transvestite doctor was only toying with the tip of an immense iceberg.Those Magpies were far more advanced, Claude could see it clearly, and he wondered how he could outdo them, if that was possible. Quite frankly he didn’t know why they had not yet retrieved it. Perhaps they were having trouble locating it too…
That would mean he still had a head start, however short.A faint barking sound seemed to echo in his head… It was apparently coming from… the gnarled trunk of an old majestic tree… Whispers seemed to come from it too, like a child talking with an adult, and whispers around them…
The tree seemed wide enough for him to enter into the biggest crack of its bark…
Could it be one of their secret entrances and exits? There had to be coordinate points were they could get out of this warped space… What was he risking to try?April 10, 2008 at 11:48 am #822In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
I’m wondering where Irtak and the twin dragons have gone… The thought just struck Leormn.
They’d probably been exploring the outside of the cave of these past events… But they couldn’t afford staying here for too long. Not so much because of the chilling environment of the Marshes… In fact, as soon as they had all appeared here, they’d been at first mere translucent unfocused spirits, but the longer they stayed, the more they became physical and solid here.
Georges and Salome had wished Malvina to see something here before their departure to other ventures.
Possibly, the twins and Irtak were part of the plan too… Not to mention Arona…If his calculations were correct, they had a little more than a hexade left before they would be completely merged into that timeline, and after that… It would be less easy to come back…
That would require the mediation of the Guardians.
And all things considered, Leormn was less than enthusiast about that solution.April 7, 2008 at 11:37 pm #2018In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
Close, THE images WERE comeING CLOSER, AND THE journal felt CLOSER: picture StOry OF wondered ABOUT AND WONDROUS dimensionS; HEADS full OF IDEAS, getting Ahead OF THE fruit AND NUTCASE; DREAMS remembered ……
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