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In reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk……
All alone on page two, Tracy wondered if she had slipped into another dimension, the Page Two Dimension…..:yahoo_idk:
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Yann was more quiet now… all these stuffs about his work was calming down and Quintin was coming soon living with him.
They were feeling something unfamiliar going on, but it wasn’t fully inserted yet in the physical.Many things had changed.
Surfing on the internet, he saw a picture of a nine-tailed blue fox… he wondered what it was all about…
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Tina politely pointed out, she was only reading the Reality Times, Becky’s news source of choice, and the sentiments and ideas expressed were not necessarily her own. She wondered, gently, why Becky was so defensive when she had only been asking for input.
Was it because her hair was falling out?
Anyway, even her new haircut could not disguise the big bald patch Becky had created, somehow, thought Tina, compassionately.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Tina had been wondering if she wanted a child , and was considering the personal and ethical implications of this. There had been much discussion in the Reality Times recently of placing restrictions on the number of children couples could have, in order to counteract the growing population problem. This had been discussed many times over the past years, however the issues involved were becoming more pressing. People may be required to apply, and undergo suitability testing, if they wished to be parents. Areas such as any past criminal history, alcohol dependency issues, etc, may automatically exclude one from eligibility for parenthood. This was being hotly debated again, with many feeling it was violation of their personal freedom.
She asked Becky what she thought. Becky was looking in the mirror and pulling faces.
Oh doesn’t worry me. Yikes! I don’t want any horrid little rugrats anyway. Give me dogs any day. Do you like my new haircut Tina?
In reply to: Talks on the latest Instalments
For the benefit of Finn, who wondered, here is an excerpt of an interesting conversation:
(# 241)TP: ok, so Sean and Becky get it together then, and have triplets, then quintuplets
TP: then quads
TP: IVF
TP: hahaahhaah
Q: wow
TP: 12 kids
Q: poor Becky Pooh
Q:
TP: and Sam is godfather
TP: oh she finds she loves it
TP: haahahahah
Q: interesting
TP: but, Sean drinks a lot, and Sam helps herIn reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— The legend of Mævel — (Part III)
When the blue fox had disappeared, deep into the woods, Mævel was left wondering if all of that had only been a dream. Perhaps it was just a dream, and something that would make her parents raise their shoulders in dismay.
Especially since she had lost their gift carelessly they would say, the little pearl white ribbon…She picked up the clothes that were left hanging to dry up in the wind, and came back to the little house.
Of course, her father Jorg noticed that she was not wearing the ribbon, but he was not much of a question asker, and things were or were not, and analyzing them was unnecessary for him. But of course, Ilga noticed it too, and she felt sad for poor Jorg who had endured so many sacrifices to buy the little ribbon that Mævel was no longer wearing. She wanted an explanation! Was it no longer to Mævel’s tastes, had Mævel lost it?
So Mævel, who could not lie to anybody, told them her encounter with Blohmrik, the cursed god in the woods, in the shape of a wounded blue fox… and at each of her words, was seeing their faces more and more disconcerted.
Their poor girl, who was already so different, had completely lost it,… ribbon and all that was left of common sense in her.So they locked her up in the bedroom, that she was now occupying alone, as all of her brothers and sisters had left. Just to save her from herself, and see if that would help her gain some more solid sense of reality.
Mævel understood her parents, but she was deeply contrite that they could not understand what she had lived. Mævel was still doubting the reality of her meeting the blue fox, so she asked for some sign from the Gods before going to sleep, to see clearly.
That night, Mævel dreamt of a dark-haired young man with a white diadem1 around his head, dressed in a cerulean blue tunic and wearing a sword. He was enshrouded in a warm light and as she took the hand he was extending, they were carried away by a springing scented wind into a meadow of multicoloured flowers, some of which she had not even known could exist. She had felt at home.
When she woke up, in the middle of the night, Mævel was transfixed by the beautiful soothing dream. She could not remember much more, but he had told her something. That there was deep magic in her, and it would help her find her true home, but that she would have to gain back her true name from the Elder God who had took it from her.She quickly took her decision. She knew she had to search for the blue fox in the forest. But how could she escape the locked bedroom? She was starting to feel desperate again, but she remembered that there was some magic in her, and how she had felt it deeply true in her dream.
As she was focusing on the warm expanding feeling of her dream, an old rusty key materialized in her hand.—
1 diadem: [ ˈdī-ə-ˌdem (dəm) ] from Greek diadēma, from diadein to bind around; akin to Sanskrit dāman rope — was originally a white ribbon, ending in a knot and two strips that were placed often on the shoulders, that surrounded the head of the king to denote his authority.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Vinya Grey left the laboratory, and projected home to her pod. Her genetics experiments were coming along nicely.
(Becky was wondering whether she really knew enough about the subject to write about it, and decided to do some more research before continuing her entry about the 23rd century)
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky had been wondering whether the baby Tina had introduced into the reality drama play was a boy or a girl, and had been tempted to look, so to speak, but had felt a reluctance. The thought that the baby was a hermaphrodite had crossed her mind, but she dismissed it, and decided to think about it later…go with the flow, see how things turned out…..
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Give it to me Arona. I’ll look after it. Sanso wondered if he was making the right decision.
(Becky wondered if she was making the right decision. Well never mind, she thought, I can edit it out later if I change my mind)
Arona glared at him, but handed the tiny bundle over to Sanso. He stared into the little blue eyes and fell in love with the baby. Poor wee mite, he said, bandied about like this like a baton in a relay race. I’ll look after you. The baby gurgled and Sanso had a strange feeling that the baby was in fact choosing to be with him, and that he had just agreed.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
hmmmm, said Arona, this is rather a predicament.
I am going to have to face this head on, she said to the others in her usual practical manner. Okay I can’t look after this baby in the cave, I had better pop out for a bit and see if I can bump into a spare nanny somewhere. Then the nanny can look after the baby while I continue my explorations
Arona looked down at the wee baby face though, and it was so very endearingly ugly, that she wondered if she would be able to leave little Yikesy with a nanny. She hugged Yikesy to her lovingly.
I will just have to play it by ear, she thought, although she knew the answer already.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
You’re not serious, are you? Sanso raised an eyebrow at Arona (who had mysteriously materialized a baby in her arms, in the blink of an eye)
You’re calling it YIKES? Oh well, fair enough….
In a puff of smoke, a Crayola fairy appeared in front of them.
Yes? she said, You called? I’m Fairy Nuf…that’s fun spelled backwards, in case you’re wondering how I got here.
Sanso didn’t really understand what was going on, but had an urge to materialize a baby too.
Thankfully the urge soon passed and he said to Fairy Nuf politely, There must be a mistake, but thank you for calling. I hope it didn’t inconvenience you.
Call me anytime, I’m available 24/7, sweetie….and in an puff of smoke, she was gone.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Gibraltar, Spain, October, 23 rd 2007
When Dory’s partner (well, the last one that is) came back from his shower into the lounge, he found little Becky playing with Dory’s computer as though it were her own.
He had always found strange that his first wife’s daughter had get along so well with the temperamental archaeologist… In fact they mostly ignored each other, but they were so similar in many respect that it was like they didn’t even need to communicate, they just knew each other.Becky was only 5 (or was it 7? Dan never knew of course, which made Sabine, his first wife, constantly reproach him his lack of care) but she was brilliant. Perhaps that was the father in him talking, but he knew she would be doing great things. At such a young age, she had read The Perilous Treks of Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson (written by the Lord’s widow-then-remarried wife Floribunda von Grotto) so many times he had lost track himself (“as always,…” “now shut up Sabine, will you!”) and that was the least of her talents, he could tell.
For the moment, Dan was more wondering about Dorothy. It had been nearly a month she had been away for her vacations in Madagascar. Two weeks more than she had told him… And there was this Jabin man in Tel-Aviv still trying to reach her. Well at least, he had forwarded the message to the hotel, so she would have had it.
She might have delayed her return, especially if she had found some interesting archaeological stuff… well or a more handsome man… At least Dan could understand the handsome man, he laughed so loud Becky turned her head to him.— Are you alright Daddy?
— Oh yes I am, treasure. What are you doing on Dory’s laptop? Not breaking anything are you?
— Oh no… I’m just having fun with one of Dory’s friend…
— Ahahaha, really? Dan was impressed
— Yes! But I didn’t tell her that Dody Doo was not home, she’s a bit of a worry wort.
— Ahahaha… Dory will come back, sooner or later, don’t worry…
— Oh, but I don’t worry Daddy! I know that she’s well. Now, I’ll tell bye bye to Fionny Fea and we can play backgammon!In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Nora Long was dying. She knew she didn’t have long left, and she had some affairs still to attend to before she was no longer able. Nora was a childless spinster, a frugal recluse with an uncanny knack for winning premium bond and lottery prizes; nothing big enough to attract much attention, but more than enough for her needs. Consequently, she had quietly amassed a fortune over the years ~ and she wasn’t about to let the state have it all.
Nora had spent most of her 88 years dreaming, and talking to ghosts and spirits. She wrote all of it down in notebooks, hundreds and hundreds of them, until the advent of the computer in more recent years. She had splashed out and bought one, and gamely taught herself how to use it, keeping her journals online from then on.
Nora discovered how to google one day. Wondering what in the world she might want to search for, a name popped into her head: Yurara Fameliki.
Nora had learned to trust her impulses, and she searched for the unusual name, double checking first with the voice in her head as to the correct spelling.
Nora began to read the story on the websites first page. Three days later, she was still reading it, as it grew day by day. Nora was almost sorry she had already chosen to die. At last she had found some people she could relate to!
But Nora was too weary to change her mind. She did have a plan though, a plan that cheered her greatly. On the websites pages she had noticed a little sign saying ‘Buy a Drink’.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Tina had a wonderful night of dreams. In fact it was the first time in ages that her dreams had been happy. Usually in her dreams she did not feel any emotion much.
The phone rang. It was Becky, although for a moment she thought it was her friend Docky, their voices sounded so similar.
I am fine she told Becky, I am so sorry to hear Sam is sick, give him my love when you see him
Tina chuckled to herself, remembering how last time she was sick Becky had bought over this big pot of nettle soup for her…
Really though, she was so grateful for her friends. Al seemed a bit worried about her at the moment, but then he was such a worry wort, she thought fondly.
In reply to: The Room of Requirements
well
trying a bit of what’s possible
and again…
what’s that about? in the *wonder*+land+
hey why are my “bq.” stuffs all blue? How do you make the yellow quote thingy Eric?
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky waited patiently at the doorstep on the third floor of her apartment building, trying to hail a gondola cab. The canvas bag over her shoulder was heavy. In it she had a thermos flask of rice water and poppy heads for her friend Sam, who had telephoned her with the news that he was unwell.
While she waited, she wondered about Tina and Al. They hadn’t said anything, but Becky sensed there were some issues bubbling under the surface. Tina’s strange behaviour when she answered the phone; Al’s uncharacteristically rude discounting of the outing she’d planned for them all….well! They will soon bounce back, Becky thought, If there’s anything I can do, I’m sure they’ll ask. Meanwhile, Becky chanted the mantra, It Matter’s Not; Everything Is Perfect…..
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Al was concerned about Tina. He wondered why at times it was like their moods were at the antipodes of each other. Like one was in summer when the other one was in winter. Of course, seasons had gone awfully awry in the past (well, in people’s perception at least), and cherry trees were at times blooming in the late autumn, so that was hardly a good metaphore. Enfin bref…
Sometimes he wished they could move to a part of the Earth were the differences were leveled or not so dramatic, but of course, that would be focusing unduly on what seems awry, and not appreciating the differences for what they brought in understanding for each other.Like most people now, Tina and him were living in a free relationship, not bonded by written contracts, just by a mutual wish to be experiencing a common exploration. But lately, especially with the play writing, deep issues had surfaced between them, and he was no longer sure of what they were exploring, as it was like shifting sands. Of course, now, most people were shifted themselves, thanks to the new generations of children who were exceptionally gifted in accessing their own essence. But for them, in their mid-30s, there were still issues linked to their old patterns of thoughts, many deeply ingrained ways of thinking, coming from many generations before them.
That T.R.A.P. attraction thing was a good example of the differences. It was mostly an attraction park for his generation, not really for children, as they were greatly able of doing these kinds of inner-travels without the aid of technology —not that they didn’t enjoy it either.Al was thinking of a gift for Tina. He wanted to show her that she had really transformed Jadra, or that they had come a long way since the wandering in the cave tunnels, or that everything started to make sense, even the invisible friend Blohmul…
Well, there were still mysteries around him, (not mysteries really, but things yet at the state of seeds, or potentials) but he was no longer a hair on the soup they cooked. He was the blue fox of Mævel, and more interestingly, that cursed god was the son of Mirÿnda, the Goddess of Mirth —but that, Tina had not realized yet…Actually, now that he was looking at the entry, Al noticed that Jadra was last seen with Mirÿnda, and that struck him as something more than a coincidence…
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky wondered why Finn kept calling her Dory. It didn’t matter though, it was always fun chatting with Fiona (or Finn as she now liked to be called), and Finn was always calling her different names. Becky rather liked it.
The thing is, Finn, Dory tapped into the keboard, when they’d finished laughing, As everyone knows, There Are No Secrets.
finn_tastic57: HHMMM
becdorsansilli:
finn_tastic57: This is a clue, you know. We should be able to just ‘know’, you know, just access the info
becdorsansilli: I wonder if these whispers are secret?
finn_tastic57: I guess the group admin can access them
becdorsansilli: well
becdorsansilli: we wil go public to save him a possible moral dilemma Becky was even calling herself Dory now, she noticed. That Finn was a bad influence.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Dory and Finn were chatting on messenger. At least Finn thought she was chatting to Dory, however Dory had such a wide personality that sometimes Finn was not quite sure. It didn’t matter though, it was always fun.
Dory was asking Finn if she knew what “plans” Yann was talking about in one of his recent messages. Apparently Quintin and Yann had secret plans, well were they secret? Finn wondered Maybe everyone else knew about them except Dory and Finn.
it’s all complete Jibberish to me said Dory, a little huffily, although Finn knew it was really just hurt that they were kept so in the dark.
yes, riddles and more riddles from those two agreed Finn. Well anyway, isn’t it great that some of us at least have a sense of purpose and direction. Finn laughed.
And Dory laughed too. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
