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  • #983

    Madame Chesterhope went to the garage, to get one of her preferred modes of transportation.
    She had dressed for the occasion in black leather, shouting a spell in a hurry to the mirror which had been flippantly reflecting back at her some awfully podgy image. Voodoo mirrors weren’t the quality they used to be these days. Bloody buggers of Goblinkeas manufactors… She would have a word with them soon.

    There it was. A shiny Farley Travinston motorbike.
    With some magical modifications, of course, but it had retained overall form and purpose closely similar to the original design. How she loved those machines! She had started to gather them for centuries (in Earth way of counting time), and she could still remember her very first one, the wreck it was compared to this one
    Of course, she had no use for them, but wasn’t that the point of decadent treasure piling up?

    All geared up, she hopped on the seat, and started the trans-dimensional engine. Where was it already? Pacific island… That could sound like vacations she smiled to herself…

    #956
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Nishanti fidgeted while she waited for her sister Nanda to explain why they were all gathered here in the kitchen, with the doors and windows closed against eavesdroppers.

      Now, listen to me carefully, sisters, Nanda began. This is a secret! Our brother Gayesh is alive! But nobody is to know, so don’t breathe a word to anyone, ok? Nanda peered sternly into the eyes of each of her young sisters. It would compromise his research project…or something…..anyway, he told me that secrecy is of the utmost importance at this stage, so don’t say a word.

      Now, go and pack a small bag, each of you, as if for a picnic…not too much! We don’t want anyone to think we’re leaving, just going out for the day.

      Where are we going, Nanda? asked Nishanti.

      To the old family home in the mountains, that’s where Gayesh has his facility now.

      But there’s no roof left on it, Nanda! Eromi said, alarmed. I don’t want to go there!

      Oh, shush, Eromi, he’s fixed the place up, silly.

      #953
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Primary Becky woke up as the sun was sinking behind the coconut trees. The grounds of the Serendib Facility were striped with the long golden shadows of evening as Becky sat up in the wicker steamer chair, rubbing her eyes and mumbling the last few remembered words of a dream….. Luce is calling…which she promptly forgot.

        Never one to keep a good thing to herself, Becky had a sudden impulse to call Tina in New Venice and tell her about Serendib. She loved the name Serendib: ‘serendipity.’ Becky had fallen in love with the magical island, and wanted to share it.

        She had a feeling that Tina would like it here.

        #952
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Primary Becky, for the first time in decades, felt completely relaxed. Suddenly free of all responsibilities, she lost all sense of linear time, and lost all sense of meaningfulness. She felt as though she had suddenly burst through the imposing double doors of logic, continuity, and meaning, into a vividly colourful world of meaningless nonsense. With no structure or no meaning, no commitments, no limpet- like others, she felt a liberation that was beyond meaningless words and explanations.

          As the doors of meaningfulness flung wide the dazzling light of The Elsespace Arrangement flooded over her, causing a temporary tottering in her frivolous teetering sandals. Whoa! she exclaimed, grabbing the doorframe to steady herself. With a meaningless whoa, an equally pointless wow, and a quick glance back over her shoulder at Meaningwhere (which looked dreadfully constraining and complicated from this new perspective), Becky entered The Elsespace Arrangement.

          #940
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Phew, said Becky, mopping her brow with her hand, what a great work out!

            Tina was very impressed with how diligently Becky was doing her Visualisation Exercises for Pregnancy, and rather surprised to see genuine sweat pouring down her flushed and hot face. She had agreed to do the exercises with Becky, but truth to tell had dozed off after a few minutes. Still, not that I need to do exercises, Tina thought, admiring her toned and slim body. Becky kept complaining about weight gain, and Tina had tried to point out that was what happened when one had a baby. Becky was having none of it.

            By the way Tina, what’s up with Al?

            Yeah … said Tina hesitantly, torn between loyalty and honesty. Well I don’t really know. He is a bit obsessed …

            Obsessed is the word! It’s turning into a monologue. We had better write something soon or who knows what havoc he will wreak on the reality play. You know he killed the spider?

            Well, said Tina brightly, always willing to see the bright side, at least it has distracted him from his body modification experiments for a while.

            #925
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              “My yellow is fine and dandy”
              Said green hued sickly Mandy
              “You’re mad to suggest
              A yellow sick fest”
              Said sickly green hued Mandy.

              :yahoo_sick:

              That wasn’t one of your finest, dear, said Tina disparagingly.
              Becky sighed. I need to find a Limerick support group.

              Mandy felt better at once
              “I feel better than I have in months.
              You may be mad,
              And that is sad!
              But now I fancy some lunch.”

              :yahoo_pig:

              These are special Kuzhebarian Healing Limericks you know, Becky said a trifle huffily. Nobody appreciates my limericks.

              Mr X is making some rice.
              It’ll be ready in just a trice;
              All soupy and wet,
              She’ll feel better I bet
              In a trice, at a modest price.

              :yahoo_money_eyes:

              “You tried”, she said with a smirk
              “But I doubt if it will work”

              Tina interrupted: “You tried she said with a sigh”

              Becky sighed. I was hoping you’d smirk dear, she said to Tina. The word smirk is on my ’100 things challenge’ list.
              Tina rolled her eyes and Becky continued:

              “But the poppy is making me high!
              So thanks for that!
              I’ll eat my hat.”
              She said, “Now I’m starting to fly!”

              :balloon:

              Mandy flies off down the street,
              Smiling gaily at all she meets
              “I’m high, I can fly!”
              She said with a sigh
              Of joyous delight. How sweet!

              :yahoo_eyelashes:

              Mongloose had a moment of doubt
              “I fear she is still in a prout.
              But one never does know
              How these healing rhymes flow
              Before long she’ll be up and about.”

              :yahoo_idk: :heart:

              #921

              It had been a week now. Georges had fully taken his role as Shu-Lom, the eleventh Gate in the Council of the Guardians. His mergence with the actual focus of Blöhmul was fading out ; the transition had been smooth, unnoticed by most of the Guardians, even his closest friends. Georges was careful not to display any unusual change in Shu-Lom’s attitude, though some of them were showing signs of suspicion, especially… his own focus, Sinadron who was the most susceptible to be aware of the difference. Georges had been avoiding him since his arrival, but he would eventually have to face him for one of the rituals soon to begin.
              Of the eleventh other Guardians, only 2 were considering him as a friend, Doh’Maar and Vogel. Most of the others were ignoring him during the sessions and Sinadron were despising him. Well, technically he was despising Shu-Lom and the change would not make things go easier between the 2 of them as the energy of their 2 focuses were sort of repulsing each other.
              Following Shu-Lom’s habits, he was heading to the public baths, but contrary to him, he was going during daylight. He needed some answers. He had been feeling strong tensions between the Gates, and there were also underlying feeling of discontentment and anger among the other Guardians. For the first time in their history, unknown groups of their kind were attacking the other races and provoking them and generating feelings of fear, even amongst the Guardians.
              The man he was following would give him some of the answers. He would have to befriend him first though. Noraam had a smooth energy, and he would be easy to approach, especially in the dampness of the baths.

              Noraam was wearing an grey cape, attached on his shoulders with carved fibulae. His robe was short, above his knees, and rather dark. He was quite young by the standards of the Guardians and still fiery. Shu-Lom was young too, about the same age as Noraam, but he was quite pessimistic and self-effacing, and especially he wanted to leave, that he did, and Georges took his place.
              Georges suddenly felt a familiar energy, one that he would recognize anywhere, anytime. Salome… rather another focus of her essence. Hahaha, that was a surprise, and he almost lost track of what he was doing. Noraam was already taking the stairs up to the baths. Something about the energy of that focus was attractive, he still didn’t know who it was or what he/she(?) was doing here. Maybe just a projection. He didn’t have time to investigate. Heading to the stairs where Noraam was already being dematerialized and rematerialized to the first level, he heard a child’s voice.

              Can you help me?.. I know you can.

              What again, another distraction… he would be late to the baths and maybe loose the occasion to speak with the other Gate.

              Looking down at the origin of the voice, he was surprised to see a little girl, red hair and amber eyes. As he could see, she was blind, but as he could feel, she was quite capable of seeing things.

              Do I know you, little one? He had not been aware of this child in Shu-Lom’s memories, and he was wondering if he had missed something during his encounters with the original.

              You dreamt of me the other night, but you weren’t here yet.

              Her last words triggered a memory, of him carrying a naked little girl in his arms, protecting her in a way, and he was following a man in his dream, trying to keep track… in his dream, he was rushing and almost lost the child, following also Salome who had already taken the stairs… yes he was here in his dreams, the place and the stairs were the same… as was the child.

              What is your name little one? In my dream you were followed by an owl
              You can call me Ar’Meel.

              :fleuron:

              Sam thought he could write it somewhat differently. With his understanding of Georges’ abilities, he could well have split in two and followed Salome and stayed with the girl simultaneously and maybe even Noraam.
              A smile.
              He was feeling wobbly and wavy. A ripple effect?
              It seemed that there had been a strange recognition between his character and himself. It was like Georges was aware of Sam wanting to change what had happened… or was it a suggestion of Georges?

              #902
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Blimey O Riley, said Becky when she read what she’d written the previous evening. As she read it over again, though, a picture began to form in her mind, a character was starting to form.

                I was connecting to a focus, she surmised, A focus as a simple country washerwoman. A simple person, choosing to experience a life of simple pleasures, not bogged down with deep meaningful thoughts or ideas; not striving for insights or accomplishments, a pure and simple life for a pure and simple soul.

                The washerwoman used words differently, she didn’t use words to communicate with anyone, she simply used the bubbling gurgling endless stream of sounds to amuse herself…endlessly babbling, always smiling, infinitely amused with the sheer joyous nonsense of the sounds tumbling from her lips, broadcasting seeds of absurdity in the cornfields and the meadows of the hay hoo down dooly…..

                #893

                The day had been long. Actually, from an outside perspective he had been apparently sleeping almost all of it, so it was not appearing as if it could be a really exhausting day at all.
                But Al had been extending his body researches in the subjective. He’d started to play again with his various dream bodies he had known the existence of for quite a while now, though he hadn’t yet found the time to experiment with them fully enough. An idea he owed to Sam, who he had been pleased to hear about his unusual experiences in the Australian bush, or more accurately, in the Dreamtime.

                Playing with these various “bodies”, or qualities of attention and perception, he was aware that his thoughts on the recent events occurring in their story was still unfolding in the backstage of his attention. A rehearsal perhaps…
                Nevertheless, he was delaying the actual representation, for he felt he was not yet ready for it.
                He could feel lots of information waiting for him to download them and process them. But he wanted to do it with clarity.

                Last try had not been very convincing… He had dreamt of a midget Tina, in a flowing mauve and lemon chiffon dress. Of course, in the dream he had taken great care of not hurting her feelings, all the more since she seemed so fond of the dress. He couldn’t really tell her that the dress was giving her an enormous butt and that she was rolling her hips comically when she was walking… Impossible…
                While dream-Al was searching for words to truthfully convey his appreciation of whatever little thing that could be left to appreciate on that dress, dream-Sam had been quick to tell dream-Tina she looked like fairy Nuf. What had he said! She soon started to weep noisily. Fairy Nuf, as anyone knew, is a purple-clad plump grumpy fairy, with a pointy hat and she couldn’t possibly look that bad.
                Speak about clarity…

                Al tried again to concentrate. Taking deep breathes.

                He could feel more and more clearly the presence of the woman. Her aura was beckoning, and she seemed to want to share information with him —pieces of information he would be free to tell others or not, it didn’t matter.
                What mattered was that there was this deep desire for this information which was coming from him; and equally as deep as his, her own desire to share was palpable.

                Salome ” he whispered “ I am ready to see
                He soon started to fall into another lucid dream…

                #881

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

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

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

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

                So here went the news:

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

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

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

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

                :fleuron:

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

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

                #875
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Chris Robin’s brief sojourn in the past had been an interesting one. He’d only spent a couple of hours in the year 2034 and had unfortunately arrived during a rainstorm. He arrived back in the year 2163 soaked to his skin, but grinning like a Cheshire cat. Armed only with the time travellers password, ‘Tarty Nun’, Chris had expected to spend alot more time trying to making contact with a TF, or ‘timetravellers friend’ than he did; he was astonished to see a tarty nun almost immediately upon arrival.

                  The girl was giggling to herself, and reciting limericks as she wandered aimlessly through the bushes, looking really quite fetching in an interesting little garment. As she brushed past him, seemingly oblivious to his presence, he heard her whisper the password. “… coming… in … tarty nun…..”

                  #871

                  — Who are you? said Alana. And how did you get here?

                  The man who was standing before her was smiling mysteriously. She was staring at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice the hint of fear on her face. What was puzzling her most was that she didn’t know who he was working for, was he an agent of the Baron? It was quite unlikely. The French man Langlade had always been working alone since his misadventure with Harry, and the Baron wouldn’t double his agent if unnecessary.

                  — My name is Andrimiñ. And as of how I got here… let’s say I know how to get through :) What matters is that I’m here to offer you my assistance…

                  His smile was quite hypnotic, and she almost lost track of what was happening (very unusual of her) when a few knocks on the door and Mr Isashi’s voice reminded her of her guest.

                  Are you all right, Aunt?

                  The man was staring at her with his blue eyes, she had a strange feeling and she knew she had to move quickly.

                  Aunt? Is there someone with you? I heard a man…

                  — I can show you how to activate the skull, Atiara. And help you with this man.

                  Suddenly she knew she could trust him. Something in his last words… there was much unsaid, and the name he gave her… she was having the weirdest feelings about it. As if it was perfectly fitting. She smiled to him, her tensions released. He was now looking at the door.

                  — Bring our guest in, Mr Isashi.

                  The face she turned to the door was full of a new strength, mixed with a strange feeling of familiarity.

                  #858
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    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 :detective: ) talent was really shining in her typos…

                    #854

                    Of course I will introduce you, said Phoebe calmly, Franiel, meet Vincentius.

                    That’s funny you say that, said Franiel recovering his marbles after a bit of an aghast moment. This name sounds oddly familiar… Is… he a talking parrot?
                    Oh, yes of course, said Phoebe Chesterhope, though that’s not the least of its particularities she added with an eerie smile on her thin wrinkled mouth.
                    The others, you said she snapped back, her gaze suddenly sharp as a sword. I suppose you’ll meet them, unless you’ve got already.
                    I’m not sure to know what you’re talking about, Milady said Franiel slightly perplexed.
                    Oh well, I can see from the clothes you are wearing that you’re coming from a place of peace and sainthood. This place is a haven too, in many ways. This place has been kept as such since a few centuries, and I intend it to stay that way. Though the Others are devising ploys always more clever to have a hand on this place. For that, I know how to keep a keen eye on what’s happening, she said with a troubling wink to her parrot.
                    The valley is surely a nice place, said Franiel not sure of what he should say.
                    To the contrary. It’s full of marauders if you ask me, but for good reason. Uleÿa’s valley is a place not easily reached, and there are not many portals around here. No official ones at least… So in a sense, it’s an exchange of good will between me and them.

                    Franiel was not sure he wanted to delve more into all this intricate political web of alliances and plots, no more than he wanted to be involved in religious beliefs and fanaticisms…

                    I can see you are a little troubled, but you’ll find your place in all these events, assuredly, Phoebe said gently. But be certain that whenever you are wanting yourself out of them, you sure will find yourself right in the midst of them, without you even knowing it.
                    I only want to be a good man, and do the least evil in this World, I suppose finally answered Franiel after an awkward moment.
                    This, I am sure is true… You know, I’m a little bit of a witch, I mean, intuitive person, and I can pick up images from yourself. I’m not sure about some of them, but most of them are as clear as the waters of Uleÿa. Take your time to feel at home around here. Vincentius will answer you if you need anything, in any case better than Lydia or Derwent.
                    But… I mean no offense here, dear Lady,… Vincentius is but a parrot, isn’t it?

                    Phoebe sighed for a moment then took Franiel by the arm, so quickly and firmly he didn’t see it coming, and couldn’t move, hypnotised by the firm grip of the woman.

                    Listen carefully, my friend. I can see you can be trusted, as much as your mind is thirsty for the truth, so I will tell you. Vincentius is no mere creature. He’s the result of a little experiment I had once with a former guest of mine. Another divine being, as pure and innocent as you, going by the same very name of this creature. I captured a spark of his radiant aura, and mixed it with an egg I had kept for the occasion. And so it was born. A perfect spy, as well as a faithful friend.

                    Franiel recoiled in horror… What have you done?!

                    Oh, don’t be so dramatic, my young friend Phoebe said with a little giggle. No one has been harmed, and even if at times, there seem to be some side-effect when my former guest seems to see or speak through my parrot, it all has gone very well… And no, I don’t intend to do it to you… Don’t give me silly ideas, ahahah.

                    #848

                    This is a bloody odd place is you ask me, said Gloria. The weathers nice and all, but it’s all very ODD.

                    Yeah I know what you mean, replied Sharon. Some odd goings on around here, I can’t keep track of it all. My head just gets fuzzier and fuzzier.

                    ODD, now there’s an odd word if ever there was one. ODD, she said, savouring the sound of it. ODD. Odd…. ODD….

                    The more you think about it the odder it gets, agreed Gloria. She picked up a twig that was lying next to her beach towel, and wrote ODD in the sand. It’s like a tart and two half tarts, she said.

                    Sharon propped herself up on her elbows and peered at her freind. What? What tarts? Don’t tell me we’ve got competition arriving on the island.

                    Not that kind of tart, Sha, pie tarts. Look, look ‘ere at this word ODD. It’s like a pie and two half pies. If the pies weren’t halved it would be OO.

                    You soft ‘narna, Glor, Sharon giggled. What are you on?

                    #2024

                    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Within window, lady angels wonder
                      Pink show kept egg focused
                      Funny smile Tracy moose
                      Food focus
                      Dreams given starting hope
                      Word

                      #837

                      As Claude was entering deeper into the giant babul tree, the obscurity was resounding with joyful peals of laughters and whispered words that seemed to mossify into his mind, like they weren’t really words, but bubbles pops and boobles.

                      He was resolute to find out whatever was going on in this place…

                      #836

                      Anita was playing with her new friend.
                      The Snoot, it had told her was its name. The Snoot was very ancient, very curious tooo.
                      The Snoot was asking loads of question, though they weren’t formulated with words, because the Snoot wasn’t speaking. It was too slow for the Snoot.

                      Nonetheless she was giggling, distracted from the preoccupations of Akita and the others.

                      #1791

                      In reply to: Synchronicity

                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        ahhahah yes definitely foggy brain synch

                        egg synch, my mother choked on hardboiled egg the other night and they had to do the … H technique (T already told me what the word was but old foggy mongy brain here can’t remember) on her.

                        I was looking at jewelery yesterday, a friend on multiply makes jewelery and I was looking at her photos thinking how lovely they were

                        #1434
                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          :beer:
                          sitting here having a drink by myself …

                          NUF – I know we said this one already but I quite like it
                          NUFF – Not Unother Freakin Focus
                          EPIC – misspelling of Eric or alternatively ENERGY PLAYING IN COLLABORATION – well a hard word to live up to though.
                          SPOD – means nothing, just like the sound of it … oh no hang on it does mean something :yahoo_nerd:
                          LOONAR – I am channeling Finnley now

                          :face-plain:

                          might go home and cook dinner (spuds) instead …

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