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  • #740
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Becky huddled behind a bush, shivering, and trying desperately to pull down the ridiculously short dress she was wearing.

      I can’t believe I came out wearing my honeymoon outfit, she grumbled crossly. No wonder that Gondola man kept sniggering and pulling his sweater down to his knees. PFFFT! The only nasty habit around here is not looking in the f’kin’ mirror before I leave the house.

      Becky tried to phone Al again, and then events took a turn for the worse. Her phone battery was dead.

      #737

      Finnley, you let me in right this mooment! commanded Elizabeth Tattler imperatively.

      I am sorry, Ms Tattler, I am under strict instructions from Mr Arak that I am under no circumstances to let you in until this office has been cleaned. I will lose my job if I let you in.

      Now there’s an idea! she thought, toying with the idea momentarily

      Why that pompous, arrogant, supercilious proot ….. Elizabeth paused midflow to admire her vocabulary.

      Finnley was quite enjoying the change of routine, and Ms Tattler’s office really was a treasure trove of interesting bits and pieces. The thick layer of dust, and were those magpie droppings? were a little off-putting mind-you. She plucked a book randomly from the shelf, and lifting the visor of her protective faceshield in order to see better, gently wiped the title clean. “I am Perfect Indeed” The author was some fellow named Erwin P Lemone who Finnley had never heard of. She picked another one, “Basic Flying Massage Techniques of the Ancient Kuzhebar, Book One for Beginners” by Jibberish E Shrale

      Finnley, Elizabeth’s voice had taken on a wheedling tone from the other side of the door. Be a sweetie-pooh will you and put this note in my clooh-box. Finnley watched intrigued as a piece of paper inched its way under the locked door.

      Sure Ms Tattler, where is the clooh-box?

      On my office desk, next to the daily quotes. Don’t mess anything up Finnley dear, you be careful, I have very precious things in my office.

      Finnley could not resist a peek but the scribbled words made no sense to her

      Amanita muscaria intoxication typically produces macroopsia – Beckipooh?
      13th gate and the 13th skull FEBRUPOOH 20TH 2008
      The Snoot – who is he really?
      supercilious proot! Arak Dr Bronkelhampton? ? ? ? WHAT IS PLAN B?????????

      Her eyes fell on the daily quote for the day, that Lemone chappie again!

      rainy wedding, merry marriage

      She snorted derisively, He must be madder than Almad that Lemone, how silly! No wonder poor Ms Tattler seemed a bit mindblown sometimes if she reads stuff like that

      #732

      Elvira and Boris were knee deep in mushrooms when the strangers appeared asking for food. Visitors were few and far between at the isolated old wooden house, but it was with mixed feelings that Elvira greeted them. It would be wonderful to have a little conversation, some news of the outside world, but this was the busiest time of the year and she hardly had a moment to spare as it was.

      However, she greeted them amiably enough, and invited them inside. Come in, come in, come in! she said, Would you like a cuppa? Are you hungry? There’s some reindeer stew left over from last night.

      Zhana’s stomach growled loudly in response. Would I ever! I am STARVING! Zhana beamed a smile at Elvira.

      Well, sit yourselves down then, if you can find a chair that’s not covered in mushrooms.

      Elvira suddenly had an idea.

      Are you two in a hurry? Would you stay a few days and help with the mushroom packing?

      Zhana looked at Sanso, who nodded. A few days with plenty to eat before their long journey, and a few provisions to take along with them would be perfect.

      Of course we will, we’d be delighted to stay and help, Zhana said to the old lady.

      Splendid! Boris will be so pleased! I’m a great cook, you know, if I do say so myself. As much food as you can eat in return, eh? How does that sound? Elvira smiled at her guests. My, my, girl, what a wonderful complexion you have! she said, peering at Zhana. Like a summer peach!

      Zhana blushed happily, and Sanso beamed.

      #731
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        It was taking longer than expected for Sanso and Zhana to find food, and they were weak with hunger when they came across the big toad. There was plenty of water; gurgling brooks and rushing streams crisscrossed their path, crystal clear with icy cool snow melt from the summer thaw. The’d found a few cow berries along the way, and they had chewed a few mushrooms but they wanted something substantial before setting off for the other side of the world. Sanso had left a trail of flourescent green cave lichen, to show them the way back to the cave entrance, which was to be their portal to Nishanti’s place.

        Maybe the toad will show us the way to find food, said Zhana. Ask him, Sanso!

        You ask him! replied Sanso.

        No, YOU ask him. Zhana was inexplicably feeling shy.

        Sanso chuckled goodnaturedly, and agreed to ask toad. He stood there silently smiling for some minutes, and Zhana began to wonder just WHEN Sanso would oblige. Her stomach was grumbling and growling and she was starting to get impatient when Sanso turned and strode purposefully off to the left.

        What the…..snapped Zhana. She rushed after him, angrily shouting OY! Her foot caught on a root, sending her sprawling face down amongst the mushrooms.

        Sanso turned, and couldn’t help but laugh. The more he laughed, the angrier Zhana became, causing Sanso to laugh all the more.

        AAAH Ha Ha Ha! AAAHHHH Ha Ha Ha HAAAAH! OOO Hoohooo! If you could see your face all covered in blue mud and red and white spotted mushrooms, you’d laugh too!

        Zhana started to cry.

        There there, dear, Sanso said kindly, trying hard to stop laughing, and wiped the mess off the girls face with an old rag he found in one of his pockets. Did you know that Siberian blue mud is a much sought after beauty treatment in some places? This little mishap will do wonders for your complexion, you know.

        Will it? snivelled Zhana, who had been preoccupied of late with with her adolescent skin.

        Yes! There is no such thing as an accident, you know.

        Well, where were you rushing off to, anyway? You promised to ask toad where to find food, and then without saying a word, you dashed off and left me!

        Sanso looked perplexed. I DID ask toad!

        No, you DIDN’T, retorted Zhana.

        Sanso stared at her, wondering what was the matter with her. Then the penny dropped, so to speak, and he realized that Zhana was more familiar with verbal conversations, and had been unaware of the silent communication between him and toad.

        Zhana, most of our conversations aren’t in words, you know, he explained gently. Listen to the non-words.

        Huh? it was Zhana’s turn to look perplexed.

        You do it all the time you know. You are simply not paying attention.

        He winked at her, and smiled. Come on! The food is this-a-way!

        #727

        The cave was silent, except for the sounds of water springing from one of the wall.
        The night was long and full of dreams. Georges and Salome were here since a few weeks now, and the were spending a lot of time with Malvina, talking about many things from different places that Irtak had never heard of. One was called New York City, another was called Vienna, another was the Smoo Cave and there were so many more… Malvina seemed to know most of them. That was the first time he ever wondered how old she could be. Since his arrival here, it had never come to his mind that she could be “old”. He knew she was wiser than most of the Elders, but she seemed so young.

        She had magic. Maybe that was the key to her youth.

        He felt Heckle and Jeckle stretching their attention in their dream state. Their bodies were lying together on the warm sandy floor, and their light bodies were playing around. He could see them flickering in and out of the room. He could follow them if he wanted, but his mind was full of the places their guests had described.

        :fleuron:

        Georges and Salome were lying on an improvised bed, made of a snoot fur on the warm sandy floor. He was holding her tenderly. Their energy gently merged in a single movement. They were fully opened to one another and Salome was creating an inner landscape for them both to play in. Sam’s body was lying nearby, and her spirit was frolicking around in this inner landscape.

        They were sitting in the center of a clearing, at night time. The sky was full of stars and Georges did recognized the sky of the Murtuane. An owl was hooting not far away, sated after her hunt. They could feel her contentment, the hunt was good, several big mice tonight…

        Malvina was with them, and appreciating of the environment. She had had few occasions of going to the Murtuane herself. Even though she was so close, living on the Duane, its planetary sister.

        Where are we exactly? asked Malvina.
        Not so far away from the purple beach of Kandulim where Jarvis once came. Jarvis is a focus of Georges. And he surprised me once… Salome recalled that event with amusement.
        Georges grinned widely and chuckled.
        Yes, I can remember.

        Malvina sighed with relief.
        You are aware that my sisters are coming soon to the cave.
        Yes, we could feel the calling, so to speak. This is the crossroad of many probabilities, and it is connected to many, though not as spread as the shift in “our” dimension is or was, depending on when you project your attention.
        It was Malvina’s turn to grin now.
        Yes, I am aware. It will be soon time for us to move the cave into another location.

        SPOTCH

        OH! THAT’S WHERE YOU THREE HAVE BEEN ALL THIS TIME? INTERESTING ARRANGEMENT OF YOUR PSYCHE. THOUGH I PREFER MY CAVE.

        SPOOTCH

        Sam got on her legs and barked, quite surprised by this sudden blinking in and out of the dragon.

        HAHAHA, we didn’t even have the time to seem surprised. said Georges. Lëormn was quick. And he likes being in himself.

        Salome got on her feet and stroked Sam playfully. The dog was licking her face with affection, and stopped suddenly. She seemed to have heard something.

        The owl hooted again.

        My sisters are closer than what I first thought. This owl is an aspect of Oorlaith. Malvina’s gaze became distant for a few seconds. She won’t come tonight with us, though she gives you her fond appreciation. She’s currently busy with a man you already know… Leonard. Another one like yourself :)
        Salome raised one eyebrow.
        Leonard his here too? That’s an interesting information :) things won’t be dull with him if I dare say so. ;))
        I think he’s got a crush on her. He’s doing some stuffs for her at times… and he’s still with his dog.
        Sam barked a few times, waggling her tail and Georges grinned.
        You remember Moufle, eh!? Well, do you know where you’re going Malvina?

        She looked at him intensely and then at Salome.
        You might be surprised.

        #726
        Jib
        Participant

          Going back to work on this bright Tuesday afternoon, Yann was looking at his shadow. He had had a hard morning, not because of the tons of work… it was a rather light day, not because of the harshness of his colleagues, they were all easy living people… well except his boss that made him think of Darth Vador at times… a strong threatening aura, feared by everyone. Though he never bothered Yann actually.

          He was having the weirdest feeling of appreciation of the shape of his shadow.
          He liked it.
          It was the shape of an adolescent, his fluffy hair and relaxed silhouette. Not worrying about the future, not thinking about the past. Just enjoying the warmth of the sun in this not so cold winter day.

          His attention was quite centered on himself, he was aware of much more stimuli than he had been used to, and it had been overwhelming. Especially concerning his ideas of how to get information on certain subjects or how to explore things. He was used to closing himself from the outside when he was focusing on his work, or on what he was passionate. Lately it had been 3D modeling, and Yurick had expressed many times the desire to help him, and he had been received quite harshly.

          No wonder he had imagery of server non-receiving data at work. It was quite clear actually. Clearer and clearer. Even his dreams that he had once considered to be quite obscure where simply so concise and precise. Dreaming about the ring primitive in the 3D software, it was dreaming about its own attention, focused on the outside, he was trying to reduce the inner radius of the ring to make a plain disk, and he wasn’t able to do it properly, he was forcing.

          Well actually he had done quite well, so centered on self he had been today…

          How he reacted was so different from how he would have reacted a few months ago. Now he was just appreciating the movement, the experience of this overwhelming centeredness…

          During the afternoon he got news from his friends Finn and Dory, and he had a good laugh. It was messages sent the day before. He wouldn’t have appreciated them then, but now he was so enthrilled by what they had written with Yurick. Another pure moment of appreciation to add to his experience.

          And now, it was news from their friend Malika who had decided to move into a new house. A taupe House, located in the Island City or Wilton Manors. The house had a tree behind it, and she was sure it was a dragon lair, with a mommy dragon and an egg! and many little playful dragons.
          It was planned for the week end. The moving in, not the hatching…

          Yann promised to be here in spirit and told her friend Malika that there was a small dragon connected to him in the herd.

          #724

          Becky felt revitalized somewhat after breakfast, and decided to go for a walk. Sean was still snoring and mumbling in bed, so she pulled some clothes out of the closet quickly and climbed into them quietly, unable to see clearly in the dark.

          If the pile of wedding gifts on the dining room table hadn’t attracted her attention, she might have looked in the hall mirror, but as it was, she didn’t. It wasn’t until much later, a long way from home, that she realized what she had donned that morning.

          Becky picked up the doll that Patel had given her and grinned. She couldn’t have chosen a more entertaining husband for her mother if she’d chosen him herself. He was such a delightful practical joker, a real hoot, and Becky was very fond of him. She frowned as she turned the strange doll round in her hand, not quite sure what the joke was yet. She was quite sure there would be a laugh in it somewhere though.

          Well, time will tell, she murmured, and headed out of the front door to hail a gondola cab. Shivering as she waited, she thought happily of the honeymoon in Sri Lanka the following week. Becky wondered if they might extend the trip, and visit Sam in Australia.

          #720

          As the bride and groom were exchanging the rings, Al was brought back a few weeks earlier, when Becky had announced the little group she and Sean would get married. The initial excitement gone, Tina, Sam and Al had been given the honor to organize that very special day, while Becky surely wouldn’t care to be bothered by such petty things.

          I think she’s already getting that distinguished snobbish style of the Wricks muttered Tina who was not so fond of being handed down these kinds of unprompted crottes.
          Al, who was probably thinking as much managed a Don’t be so hard on her, that’ll be a mighty fine wedding, after all, marrying a Wrick has its advantages, we don’t have to be measly on the expenditures
          Sam, a bit lost in circles, had acknowledged.

          Well, that had been fun after all, at least Al was thinking, he had not needed to deal with Becky’s own mood fluctuations. As the only Sumafi of the group, he had willingly taken care of the list of the guests, and all the catering orders, while Tina was taking care of the decoration (bride included), and Sam was arranging for the organization and rental of the places and hotels for the wedding and its slew of guests.

          Of course, as intimate Becky had first required the wedding to be, she had soon changed her mind, and had not resisted long the temptation to gather lots of people she had almost forgotten over the years.
          Al could almost see clear as day — now the weather had brighten up a bit — in his mind his notepad full of Becky’s recommendations:

          Becky’s family and friends
          Sam, Tina & Al (of course)
          Sabine Baina (mother) and Patel Mahapushtra, her new husband (a child’s toys mogul)
          Dan (father) and Dory (step-mother; might fear a trip to New Venice, you’ll have to use some extra coaxing with her)

          [long list of friends, snipped for reader’s comfort]

          Sean’s family and friends
          (mother deceased, father unwilling to come, pretexting his rheumatisms and not being able travel so far, but most likely unwilling to see Sean)
          Sean’s children, Perry and Guiny
          (aunt and cousin, Deirdre and Dorean Wrick) — Al’s update: they have unexpected guests coming back from Russia at their home, wonder if they could come? Becky: Sure!… Mmmm, Russia you said?

          Now, finding some great gift for someone as easily distracted as Becky, and as spoiled as Sean was another ball of wax…

          #719
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Becky put the butter back in the fridge and noticed a large casserole dish covered with a cloth. She peered into the dish, wondering what it was.

            Oof! said Becky, wrinking her nose in distaste. It was leftovers of that ghastly reindeer stew that Elvira and Boris had contributed to the wedding feast, made with Al’s gruesome green bacon.

            It’s a miracle we didn’t all die of food poisoning, thought Becky. That batty old crone Elvira was too old to be trusted in a kitchen, anyway. 121 years old, and showing no signs of kicking the bucket yet. Bring back euthanasia, she thought wickedly.

            Oh I don’t mean it really, she said to herself (out loud, in case Tina was remotely viewing her again). I love Elvira really.

            #1898
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              tjmarshall57: hahahaha as if it’s not bad enough with the weeding, now poor girl has blotches all over her face!
              tjmarshall57: wedding not weeding
              tjmarshall57: do russian wear velis?
              tjmarshall57: veils
              tjmarshall57: hhhm, blessing by a shaman, plaiting together of the couples hair….(is Becky still blad?)
              tjmarshall57: The biggest concern at the wedding is to have enough liquor. A Russian Wedding is an event where everybody must be drunk. No one will be surprised if people drink themselves to unconscious on the wedding – and many do.
              tjmarshall57: well, that will appeal to Sean
              tjmarshall57: You are probably surprised to find out that a Russian wedding lasts for 2 days!! (Well, at least. Some weddings last as long as a week, and this is something to be proud of and remember for years: it means the couple had enough liquor to go on and on, and enough devoted friends to stay.)
              tjmarshall57: The Russian church ceremony is colorful and solemn but the complete traditional ceremony is very long, and as guests and the couple have to stand during the ceremony (there are no benches in Russian churches at all; people must stand during all church services), faints are not rare.
              tjmarshall57: right, so a fair amount of fainting and drunkeness then
              tjmarshall57: Then the witnesses continue running the wedding, reading jokes and poems, and sometimes asking the new couple questions to make fun of them.
              tjmarshall57: Franci will you be my witness, you’d be perfect
              tjmarshall57: “Za molodykh!” (“For the newlywed!”)
              tjmarshall57: Traditionally money is considered as the best gift, and is given in an envelope. Some time after the beginning of the reception when people start to become drunk the witnesses will ask everybody to give their gifts and one of the witnesses will collect envelopes from the rest of the guests with a tray.
              tjmarshall57: Then people have time to dance. First dance is opened by the new couple. After the music starts, there is no exact script anymore, and witnesses can relax a little. They still occasionally announce a toast but do not entertain the guests with jokes and poems; guests by this time are already having lots of fun and are able to entertain themselves.

              Movements become quite hectic; some people go out “to refresh”, and at some moment in this movement the bride gets… “stolen”! She disappears, and when the groom starts looking for her, he is faced with a request for a ransom. Usually it’s his buddies who “steal” the bride. A more or less short wrangle about the amount, and he can have his new wife back. But he must watch out – the bride sometimes may be stolen a few times!

              tjmarshall57: right, so we have drunkeness, fainting, jokes, poems and insults, and theft and abduction
              tjmarshall57: Then there are the bride’s friends – they steal the bride’s shoe. The groom must pay ransom for the shoe too – the guests enjoy watching wrangles.
              tjmarshall57: Often guests leave the wedding in such a condition that they cannot remember what happened. If this was the case with the majority of guests, then the wedding was a huge success
              tjmarshall57: AHA! This is the key! I will write about it after the wedding, when nobody can remeber anything about it
              tjmarshall57: Day two of the wedding:After the meal the bride must “clean” the floor in the room. The fun part is that guests are allowed to mess as much as they want while she is cleaning
              tjmarshall57:
              tjmarshall57: another part for you!
              tjmarshall57: guests on a Russian wedding enjoy it much more than the newlywed couple who are all the time made fools of.
              tjmarshall57: The most popular period for wedding ceremonies in Russia was between the Christmas and Shrovetide (a week before the spring fast). This period was called the wedding period.
              tjmarshall57: well, the timing is right
              tjmarshall57: One of the many superstitions still prevailing among the peasant population of Russia is that, on the occasion of a marriage, the happiness of the newly-married couple is not assured unless the parents of the contracting parties are soaked with water from head to foot. When a marriage takes place in summer this is easily accomplished by ducking the fathers and mothers in the nearest river, but in winter they are laid on the ground and rolled in the snow.
              tjmarshall57: who are the parents?
              tjmarshall57: Among the Koraks of Siberia a young man seeks for a maiden with considerable dowry in the form of rein-deer
              tjmarshall57: oh, well we can have psychoactive reindeer pies, anyway
              tjmarshall57: Kovalevsky has well shown that many of the marriage customs of this country are survivals from a primitive and prehistoric age when the woman ruled the household and had more than one husband.
              tjmarshall57: hhmmmm
              tjmarshall57: it all points to a distant age when the matriarchal system prevailed, and the brother was his sister’s guardian. In Little Russia the brother’s sword is decked with the red berries of the rowan tree, red being the emblem of maidenhood.
              tjmarshall57: red fruit sync!
              tjmarshall57: no wonder I threw the cherries away!
              tjmarshall57: ahahahahha!
              franci_free: oh hrllo
              franci_free: goodness
              franci_free: will need to read back
              tjmarshall57: hahahah oh there you are
              franci_free: well what a complicated theme
              tjmarshall57: haahah well
              franci_free: you will have to write about the wedding
              tjmarshall57: the key to the whole thing is that everyone was so drunk that nobody can remeber any of it aftrwards
              franci_free: hahahah
              franci_free: great!
              tjmarshall57: thats my angle, I think
              franci_free:
              tjmarshall57: and s few things fit perfectly
              tjmarshall57: the red fruit
              tjmarshall57: the time of year
              tjmarshall57: the drunkeness, Sean will love that
              franci_free: the splotches?
              tjmarshall57: well, nobody will remeber that
              tjmarshall57: afterwards

              #2115

              In reply to: Snooteries

              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                I daresay the Cloud is agreening with the Snootie Cutie:

                Aspects (of the) front (leave you) wondering mostly. (The Snoot) smiled (and) next, (had His) face soft. Remember… (these hints) work (…) yesterday yourself seems give later (the) world(‘s best) dragon doctor

                Honey, (most) creatures (like the) mouse wanted human earth (like illite). Dead indeed soon others follow…

                #706
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Becky wondered anxiously where this new twist in the reality play was going. :yahoo_idk: Frozen meat! I don’t like the sound of this at all…. :yahoo_nailbiting:

                  #702

                  There was a tantalizing scent of wildflowers and meadowgrass in the still cool air of the cave, and as Sanso rounded a bend in tunnel a gentle breeze ruffled the folds of his robes. He quickened his pace, gladdened by the welcome promise of an adventure outside of the endless labyrinth. The air felt cool and warm at the same time, and deliciously fresh and clean as it wafted towards him, and with a feeling of immense joy, he heard a snatch of birdsong.

                  It seemed like many long years that he’d been trudging around in the gloom and the stale air of the caves, although he suspected it wasn’t as long as that. Time played tricks on him, he knew that, while he was wandering around in the darkness. He’d missed Arona, and that strange baby, when he’d first set off alone again, but not for long. He knew when it was time to move on, and so he’d left them. From time to time he wondered if he’d encounter them again, and knew he would.

                  A shaft of sunlight spilled into the tunnel and Sanso stepped out into the light. The breeze was fluttering the birch leaves high above him, as he squinted up at the pale blue sky. Grinning happily, Sanso took his time adjusting to the light. He sat cross legged on the soft green grass, feeling it springy beneath his hands. Hundreds and thousands of red and yellow spotted toadstools stretched out as far as he could see, carpeting the forrest floor with polkadots of colour.

                  Sanso looked down at his hands. The creases of his skin and under his nails were engrained with reddish dust, and he wanted water more than anything, gurgling bubbling fresh clean water. He stood up, and shook his robes a bit, and set off into the woods.

                  Intuition told him which way to go to find water. He marvelled at tiny flowers, and scampering insects along the way, squashing fungi beneath his bare feet which oozed up through his toes with little squeaky noises.

                  A rabbit ran accross his path and stopped momentarily to stare at him and Sanso laughed out loud.

                  Oh! Who’s there?

                  A girl in bright flowered skirts was sitting on the grass in a clearing just ahead, rubbing her eyes.

                  Whoa, I must be dreaming, she said, and rubbed her eyes again. She peered at the apparition in indigo robes, with skin the colour of tobacco and wild matted hair. Am I dreaming? she asked Sanso.

                  Perhaps, perhaps not, replied Sanso, who wasn’t really sure. I may be dreaming myself. My name is Sanso, anyway, what’s yours?

                  Zhana, the girl replied, Well, Uncle Grishenka calls me Zhanochka, but I…but I….I hate him, and I’m not going back! And much to her surprise, she burst into tears.

                  Sanso was momentarily non-plussed, and wondered what to do next.

                  Well, dear, if you don’t want to go back, why, then don’t go back! He wasn’t quite sure what the problem was; after all, he’d been wandering for so many years on impulse and whim he hardly knew any other way to go about it.

                  I don’t know where to go instead though, Zhana said tearfully. The long dark cold will be here again soon, and I must have shelter somewhere…..who will have me, besides Uncle Grishenka?

                  What long dark cold? asked Sanso. It seemed light enough and warm enough here.

                  Oh, my! Zhana was astonished. You ask me what long dark cold? Where have you come from? How is it you don’t know of the long dark cold? Oh! Are you from Nishanti’s place?

                  Zhana stood up in some considerable excitement. Can you take me to Nishanti’s place? Oh please say yes!

                  Well, I, er, um…..well, I suppose so. Well, yes! Sanso didn’t want to let the girl down, although he wasn’t altogether sure he knew where Nishanti’s place was. But he was game to give it a try, and the company of the girl would be a welcome change.

                  Tell me about Nishanti, then, Zhana, and what her place is like. Sanso was hoping a few clues might ring a bell, perhaps.

                  Nishanti has been my friend for as long as I can remember, Zhana said. We dream together mostly, well, Zhana blushed, Uncle Grishenka says it’s all in my head…he say’s it’s nonsense….

                  Zhana squared her shoulders and carried on. Sanso had a kind look, and nodded encouragingly.

                  She hardly wears any clothes, and her skin is warm and brown. The sun always shines and the sky is always deep blue in her place and we play outside all year long. There’s always warm ripe fruits to eat, not turnips and noodles, colourful juicy berries and plump pink fishy things, and there are flowers all year long, and the water isn’t frozen, we can play in the water and it doesn’t turn our hands blue…..

                  Ah, the other side of the world…hhhmmm…..Sanso rubbed his whiskery chin thoughtfully.

                  Ok, I can’t promise we can find Nishanti, but I think we can find the other side of the world. But first, I’d like to find some water, and perhaps a little fresh food?

                  Zhana whooped with delight, and flung her arms around Sanso. Yes, yes!

                  #1682

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Speaking of not so little Nadia we were discussing at noon with Jib, wondering how long ago our story (or stream of comments for now) was started.
                    And checking back, the first post which started the whole flow occurred with Naasir’s story on Sept. 12 th 2007 (so, our baby is a Virgo, with Capricorn rising), just a few days before Nadia (hope)’s birth …

                    #686
                    Jib
                    Participant

                      Its energy was different, new aspects were present now, and they were opposing in a way to the ones the snoot had noticed before.
                      The snoot was puzzled and amused, it could remember a time when it was familiar with similar aspects… were they coming to the forefront again?
                      It hadn’t felt them though. It was so sudden, but the snoot was curious about itself and it was amazingly blazing in its perception.
                      The snoot added some colorful vibration in the surrounding environment, it felt its vibrational quality merging with the one of its forest self and its earthly being and it moved its attention to the most protective aspect. It was buzzing its interest to it and telling it how wonderful it was. The quality was slowly shifting.
                      And then a swirling and not so physical aspect began turning around this one. The snoot was surprised at the ease with which this one was moving, and the directions it was opening to the protective one. The snoot was usually expressing quietness and a kind of slowness of time, though it was feeling the acceleration and it was feeling its own quality change.
                      The change was quite funny as the snoot was beginning to narrow its focuses.
                      It chose the mergence.

                      #685

                      Dory was bored. She didn’t really know whether to be Dory, or Becky, or even Illi today. Maybe I will be someone new, she thought. Hmmm……

                      Elvira, how about that. Well, Elvira was just as bored as Elvira as she would have been as Dory, Becky or anyone else for that matter. What happens when the inspiration goes? Where does it go? One minute the world is full of interesting things, and then Poof! nothing is very interesting at all……

                      Elvira had lots of interesting things to do, she had many books, and various artistic projects half started or not even started, just thought about on and off for ages, and she had puppies to play with, and a big drawer full of pens and things to draw with. She had a camera that took little videos that was often a lot of fun…but nothing seemed worth the trouble today, nothing at all…..not even that silly wacom thing, and after all that fuss to buy it, too…it was more fun talking about buying it then the darn thing ever was afterwards…..

                      The Internet, how could anyone be bored with an internet! There must be something seriously wrong with her to be bored when she had Internet! But she halfheartedly googled this, googled that…ho hum, tedium, nothing very interesting there….

                      Well, what about your imagination then! Elvira sat up a bit straighter, challenging herself. You can surely do something interesting in your imagination, can’t you?

                      She slumped back down again, and sighed. Like what? Well, imagine you are out in the sun, going for a walk…..

                      Well ok, then, I am on the beach. At first I feel the sun on the top of my head and I squint at the bright sparkles on the sea. Then, my ears are ringing with cold, it’s a windy cold day after all and not much fun on the beach at all. Oh pull yourself together, woman! Pull your scarf round your ears! It’s a great day for driftwood, just look at those waves rolling in.

                      I am trudging along, and the sand is hard to walk on and makes my legs ache. My God, I am out of shape! There are soggy oranges and piles of bamboo sticks, and plastic bottles all washed up in curving heaps. A soggy Marlboro carton; my, are they still smuggling fags from Gibraltar, I am so out of the smuggling loop these days….

                      Well, was that it? Elvira chastised herself. Not much of a flight of imagination there, was it? Maybe a walk along the river instead…..

                      Oh alright, if I have to…..actually I can’t be bothered to do this imaginary walk either, it’s no use….nothing is really very interesting today. I would like someone to amuse me, charmingly, pointlessly, something funny and light, and delightfully meaningless and simple…..

                      And god forbid, nothing to do with beliefs, please! Or any of that weird stuff, like other lives and other dimensions, and talking to aliens and all that weirdo stuff….weirdo, weirdo, stuff! UGGHHH Elvira shuddered.

                      Well, one thing I am pleased about, she mused almost happily, I can smoke again now my lungs are behaving. I thought I would be gloriously happy forever if I could only breathe without fear, and already I am Ho Hum about breathing….thought for sure I’d remember to focus on every brilliantly wonderful NOW moment, I did, after that fright with the lungs, but no….back to normal, well, worse than normal really, because now I am not even interested in anything……

                      I wonder if I should start drinking again…..Oh don’t be silly, Elvira told herself rather sharply. Well, drugs then, maybe that would buck me up. It’d buck you up alright, but for how long? Well when they wore off, I could take some more.

                      Yeah, right…..

                      Elvira sighed again. Even Bertie Wooster hadn’t even managed to raise a smile this time, and he always used to make her smile. Reading Wodehouse now made her frown, wondering what ever she had used to find so amusing……

                      The birds are making a racket out there, she noticed. Whatever do they find to sing about all day? Chirp chirp…jeeze….. maybe I should take up golf, she wondered. Dan seems to always have an interest, something passionately all-consuming……he never has enough hours in the day for all HIS interesting things….

                      Where have all my interesting things GONE?

                      #1670

                      In reply to: Synchronicity

                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        :yahoo_big_hug:

                        The other day .. yesterday … ? Raven’s name came up. Was it in relation to a dream of Sashi, Stasha, Sahahahahaha? … or something?

                        Well no matter, the point is that Tracy mentioned him. Well I didn’t know much about Raven, just that he made me laugh. There are a couple of jokes we had that stood out for me, and I am sorry Tracy … but I have to be honest …. one was the picture of Tracy with a sort of funny head thing on with baubles on it she sometimes posted as her avatar. And Raven put a note in my blog saying “should we tell Tracy she is wearing a doily on her head?” and this joke went on for some time because we both found it hysterically funny. Well I am not sure if Tracy did. :yahoo_worried: He often posted funny pictures as well, one of these I had swiped off his blog at one point because I liked it. (It was a funny road sign )

                        Well yesterday I had been thinking of Raven wondering where he had got to, and my sister sent me an email with an attachment of this same picture of RAven’s I had swiped. Then I went for a walk down the road and there was a woman with A DOILY ON HER HEAD! (It was a real doily, maybe she was trying to keep the sun from her head, I am not sure) anyway, thinking of Raven, I started laughing to myself, (quietly), and I swear I could sense Raven feeling delighted that I had got the joke.

                        Hope that all makes sense, it is quite early and I am having trouble waking today. :yahoo_yawn:

                        :yahoo_rose: a rose for the maligned doily

                        #1669

                        In reply to: Synchronicity

                        Jib
                        Participant

                          that’s wonderful Francie :yahoo_big_hug:

                          #683

                          The landscape had become oddly unfamiliar to Franiel. He had walked this path to the Village at the foot of the mountains maybe a half a dozen times, yet he felt certain he had never before seen these surroundings. He had never seen this patch of bright yellow flowers with their golden centers, nor this gnarled tree whose branches dropped down over the path causing Franiel to stoop in order to pass by. He stopped, hesitating, should he return the way he had come, find where he had left the path? Yet even while his mind was telling him what he was seeing should not be, he knew in his heart that he had taken no wrong turning. He touched the trunk of the old tree, and asking for wisdom, felt it’s reassuring energy calm his anxiety. The way ahead, though unexpected, felt friendly.

                          As fate would have it he had not journeyed much further when he spied a fellow traveler coming towards him on the path ahead, a small figure swathed in colourful robes, wild and dishevelled locks of hair protruding exuberantly from beneath his brown leather cap.

                          Greetings Fellow Traveler, cried out Franiel as he drew nearer, My name is Franiel. I am travelling from the Monastery of Margilonia to the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon, and foolishly I appear to have mislaid my way.

                          The stranger chuckled merrily. Greetings Franiel, Indeed If that is your destination then I fear perhaps you are more lost than you care to admit. He motioned towards the grassy bank at the side of the path. Perhaps we might sit awhile and talk, for I know that I for one, could do with a rest and bite to eat.

                          A splendid idea, replied Franiel, sensing magic in the stranger and enjoying immensely the unexpected diversion.

                          So my friend you are a long way from the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon.

                          Am I indeed? mused Franiel, How could that be, for that was where I was heading, and as far as I know I did not step from the path, and yet here I am.

                          The stranger chuckled again, and his laughter was so infectious that Franiel joined in, not really being able to identify the source of the amusement, yet feeling all the better for it.

                          And how important is it that you get to the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon?

                          I am on a mission from Aum Geog, the newly appointed Abbot, replied Franiel, as he pulled out the chalice from his pack, to have this cup inscribed.

                          The stranger reached out for the chalice, and studied it intently for a few moments. He took some of the water from his own water bottle and poured it into the chalice. Muttering a few words which Franiel did not recognise, the stranger closed his eyes and held the cup up as though offering it to the Gods. After a few moments he took a sip from the chalice. A look of delight crossed his face, As I thought! he chuckled.

                          Now drink, my friend, he said offering the chalice back to Franiel.

                          This is the sweetest Nectar you carry in your bottle ! Franiel exclaimed in surprise after taking some sips.

                          The stranger chortled, It was plain water from the river I passed on my travels. I gather from your surprise that you do not know the magic of this chalice?

                          Franiel shook his head. Well to be honest I have not really given the chalice much consideration, only to briefly wonder at my task. My mind has been more occupied with other matters. Franiel looked at the chalice in his hands, And what more can you tell me of this magic?

                          I can caution you to be wary my friend, I would not be so quick to show strangers you meet on your path this cup, for be assured there would be some who would be keen to possess this. He frowned for a moment. What are the words which are to be inscribed on this chalice?

                          Franiel pulled the sealed letter from his pack, and, feeling only a moment’s hesitation, opened it; “Bibere venenum in argento”, he read haltingly, then shrugged. I confess I don’t know what that means, I have not been taught in the old language.

                          It is a curse of the Ancients, it means “drink poison from a cup of silver”. Seeing the puzzled look on Franiel’s face the stranger went on to explain. The magic of the chalice is to transform. I uttered words of love and the water transformed to sweet nectar. Had I whipered words of hate and fear, had my intention been to kill, I could have changed the water to bitter poison. The power though is not in the chalice, it is in the intention of the one who holds it and who knows of it’s magic.

                          Franiel shook his head, bewildered, I can find no sense in this. Why would Aum Geog curse the cup in this way?

                          The stranger turned and looked at Franiel, his clear blue gaze piercing and direct, I don’t know this Aum Geog, neither do I know his heart …. I know that you are the bearer of the cup now Franiel. Make sure you are asking the right questions.

                          #682

                          Looking at the clearing, where there was seemingly only a little girl on the trunk of a cut down coconut tree, Akita found himself puzzled. A girl, alone, in that dangerous jungle… Might it be a trick from his old enemies? The giant spiders were vicious, and could play some tricks of mind on humans, he’d witnessed before he’d run into Kay, who was granting him some sort of protection. But as far as he knew, they couldn’t do anything that elaborate. They were rather primitive in their projections, and were more inclined to slimy nightmarish visions than cute little dark-skinned girls, however untidy were her clothes…
                          Besides, Kay seemed to trust her. And she could see him too. Usually, humans other than partners of spirit dogs couldn’t see them, but at times before they reached puberty, children were able to get glimpses of them, Kay had explained him.

                          Apparently either the girl was a simpleton, or she had an impossible chance not having yet encountered the spiders, being as she were, pretty oblivious to what was around her, and speaking to herself or imaginary friends, while fiddling with a small device the like of which Akita never had seen in his life. The thing was making beeping noises much like a radio emitter, and his heart leapt at the idea that she might break some god-sent transponder found in the wreckage from which she surely had been a miraculous survivor…
                          Kay, who had been observing and talking to the little girl, came back near Akita in a blink.

                          — Don’t worry for that device, it’s just a game…
                          — A game? It seems quite sophisticated for a game…
                          — It’s my Gamegirl Advanced, said the girl, without detaching her gaze from the tiny screen… But the batteries will soon be dead, she added with a lovely pouting face.
                          — Better the batteries than you, retorted Akita. So who are you? You can call me Akita… And I guess you’ve already met Kay.
                          — I’m Anita, but everybody calls me Anu.

                          She put the tiny thing at her side, and smiled broadly at Akita.

                          — Wow, you have such strange clothes, it’s like you’re out of one of those black and white war movies that my father used to watch…
                          — No wonder, little girl, we are at war.
                          — I’m not a little girl, and I don’t think you’re right. We’re not at war!
                          — That was probably well intended of your parents to hide you the truth, but thing is we are. I’ve been stranded on this island for months now with these loathsome creatures, and all I can suppose is that these spiders are secret weapons from the Nazis.
                          — Oh, Nazis? Like in Indiana Jones! Anu started to giggle…
                          — What do you mean? So you know of Nazis?
                          — Sure, my great granddad fought them on the beaches of Normandy, that was many years ago.
                          — I don’t understand… Do you have any idea of what’s going on? Akita asked Kay
                          — Grwl… All of your human quandaries don’t usually make a great deal of sense to me, if you ask me, but I guess her friends would probably know more…
                          — Her friends? You mean, her imaginary friends?
                          — Oh they are not imaginary, Anu and Kay chorused.

                          — Let me try something, Kay said.

                          And the ghostly dog form contours started to wobble like a poked cube of jelly, becoming a single ball of phosphorescent ectoplastic energy that started to rotate around Akita. Akita’s vision, disturbed by the movements started to blink at a more rapid rate until his peripheral vision started to show some distinct coloured St Elmo’s fires. They were four he could count, at least for the closest ones. At time they overlapped, and when he was focusing on his peripheral vision, he could get more and more stability in these visions.

                          Kay had stopped, and was again crouched near Akita.
                          — That’s all? Akita asked in dismay…
                          — Now you know the trick, answered Kay, almost shrugging…

                          — It’s really easy, said Anita, beaming at a disoriented Akita. Also… Yuki told me that apparently time is considerably slowed down on this island. And while a month passes here, ten years pass in the world we come from…

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