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  • #1394
    AvatarJib
    Participant

      Does the world alzheimer work? or the word puppies or the word house and holidays… mmm buy a new car? or save money?
      or monkey island? the big mama is drunk and she gives you soup…

      #1845
      AvatarJib
      Participant

        Set of Maps

        Political map of the Warring Kingdoms

        • Erpet Mesh (green)
        • Ata Meliu (yellow)
        • Cromash Tur (red)
        • Dam Adbor (purple)
        • Portal Network map
          blahblah
        #395

        Sanso breathed a sigh of relief to find himself once again on his own. He’d found the flighty and changable Arona hard work, if truth be told, and was rather offended that she’d marched off with the baby Yikesy without even so much as a backwards glance at him. Sanso was a bit sad to see Yikesey leaving, (or Zacquer as he chose to think of him) but he knew he’d meet him again…somewhere, someplace, sometime…..

        He had to admit he was glad to see the back of that horrid cat, at any rate.

        Sanso didn’t really have a plan at that point, so he just started walking, walking along the cave tunnels, trusting that he would find another portal/cave entrance soon to another adventure.

        Such was his trust and superb state of allowing,that no sooner had he thought of finding a portal and a new adventure, as he rounded the very next corner, a blaze of sunshine streamed into the cave and a gust of hot desert wind.

        #393
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          ARONA MEETS THE NANNY

          Dreamily Arona wandered away from the cave, gently holding the sleeping Yikesy close to her heart. Mandrake the cat followed, elegantly attempting to convey the impression he was there by mere chance, and by some stroke of fortune happened to be heading in the same direction.

          Arona had no clear idea where she was going, or what her intentions were even. Still this was nothing new for Arona, who was a bit of an aimless wanderer really herself at heart. She pretended she was looking for magic, but really, she wasn’t so sure anymore what she was looking for.

          Wooha!

          Arona was momentarily rendered speechless by a vison up ahead. The most beautiful creature she had ever seen sat no more than 5 dragon-lengths up ahead.
          .
          Mandrake, she eventually whispered when she had regained her composure, What is this miracle ahead? Is this some maiden’s dream? A heavenly creature come to earth perhaps?

          A miracle sent by God to save you? suggested Mandrake

          His near naked body a masterpiece of bronzed skin pulled taut over rippling muscles.

          Steady on Arona, said Mandrake

          But you know I am no hapless fool Mandrake, to swoon over a handsome stranger.

          No, indeed. And might I enquire why for art we art speaking so oddly? asked Mandrake

          Buggered if I know, answered Arona

          Despite the bravado she managed to display at times, Arona was very shy, and would never have had the confidence to approach such a godlike creature. However at that moment Yikesy started to cry loudly. The god looked up from his silent reverie and smiled.

          Oh a baby, he said in a deep melodic voice. I love babies. He came bounding athletically over and gazed down at Yikesy. My, that is an endearingly ugly baby.

          This is Arona, stuttered Arona, I mean I am Arona, and this is Yikesy, and this is .. Arona looked blankly at Mandrake

          Mandrake looked unhelpfully back at her, with a rather sarcastic little smile on his face.

          I am delighted to meet you. Vincentius at your service. May I hold Arona for a few moments?

          Oh I am sure that could be arranged, snorted Mandrake.

          Arona glared at Mandrake and decided the time had come to pull herself together. I am so sorry for the misunderstanding, she said charmingly to Vincentius. The baby’s name is Yikesy. And certainly you may hold him for a moment.

          Vincentius held Yikesy in his strong arms as though he had been cradling little babies all his life.

          Look this is probably a silly question but you aren’t after a nanny by any chance? Oh no of course you aren’t, said Vincentius, apologetically, seeing the amazed expression on Arona’s face. I am so sorry, just wishful thinking on my part. Please forget I said anything and forgive me for my impudence.

          Well actually, said Arona, frantically attempting to remain calm, I really have no idea how to look after this baby and I did have a bit of an idea a nanny might be quite useful.

          Well this is a fortuitous meeting indeed then!

          But I can’t afford to pay you, she said sadly, unconsciously fiddling with her hair and fluttering her long thick eyelashes.

          Oh don’t worry about that small detail. I am sure we can come to some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement, and Vincentius winked at her.

          Arona drew herself up to her full height, firmly took Yikesy back and said; I will have you know if you are going to wink at me this can’t possibly work. I have no idea what a wink means. You will have to speak clearly if you have something to say to me.

          OH bugger bugger bugger! thought Arona. What is it with me and winking. Now I have blown it. BUGGER.

          But Vincentius just laughed good naturedly, and musically too of course. Perhaps we will just play it by ear then shall we? I am delighted to be your new Nanny :yahoo_big_hug:.

          #390
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Becky hugged Sam. I’m so glad you don’t drink Sam, she said, emotionally.

            Well, I do have an occasional pint down at the Duck and Firken, you know, he replied.

            You know what I mean, Sam. All those years with Sean, hoping it would all work out…her voice trailed off sadly….

            Hey Becky, it wasn’t a waste! Look at all the lovely children you had!

            Becky smiled ruefully. Well, it hasn’t exactly been a picnic either, you know….

            #385
            AvatarJib
            Participant

              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…

              #376
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                Tina thought of a great gift for her friend Becky.

                She purchased her a gift voucher for an hour’s consultation with Hari Amgic. Hari had helped Al considerably when he was facing similar hair loss issues. Mostly Hari worked on identifying core underlying beliefs, particularly in relation to hair follicles, which was his area of speciality. Also a bit of energy work was involved and advanced visualisation skill training, or something. Tina was hazy on the details. Al had explained it of course, at some length. The main thing was though, that his hair looked great now and Tina felt optimistic for Becky.

                Let’s hope it grows back before Sean gets here thought Tina, chuckling merrily and shaking her fine head of thick glossy curls. It’s 2033, anything is possible!

                Her advanced psychic skills told her something was up between Sean and Becky, although Becky had not said anything directly to her. Perhaps she was not aware herself yet.

                She actually had found a message on her phone from Sean the other day, but it was so slurred that she could not make out what he was saying. Probably asking after Becky. How cute!

                Dear Becky, about time she got herself another lover. She hoped Sean could cook though, not everyone enjoyed Becky’s rather creative, albeit nutritional, culinery offerings.

                #1311

                In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  October 23 rd

                  “I may express to you that each of these chapters basically, so to speak, are not necessarily identified by one particular action, or that they are accomplishing one particular direction, in a manner of speaking. But that they all incorporate actions and movements that create a contribution to your awareness in this focus.

                  “They all lend, in a manner of speaking, energy through experiences to you within THIS focus that benefits your movement in allowing yourselves to widen your awareness and insert this shift in consciousness into your actual objective reality.

                  “As I have stated, this shift in consciousness, in a manner of speaking, is an enormous undertaking. It is a Source Event. And as you are aware, Source Events are so immense within consciousness that they may not be entirely inserted into your physical dimension. They are, in your terms physically speaking, larger than your dimension incorporates the capacity to express.

                  “Therefore, in recognizing this immensity of this movement and this creation within your reality, one focus, one time framework would be overwhelmed in attempting to create this type of movement singularly, and independent of other energy and other focuses that may be creating experiences that shall offer you as essence the type of opening within this physical experience that shall allow for this insertion of this shift into your actual objective reality.” [Elias, March 02, 2001]

                  #357
                  AvatarJib
                  Participant

                    Yann was thinking about their first kiss. They were not in physical proximity but the sensations were quite real, and it was enhanced by their mergence. When he talked about that with Quintin, his friend told him he had felt it too. He was in Scotland at that time, and they were playing energy games and creating connections. It was very intense and more and more intimate.

                    Yann was in Scotland with his friend Bruno, and one night, as they were sleeping in the same bed, Yann was dreaming of Quintin, he was taking his hand. At that moment, Yann was also aware that his friend Bruno was taking his hand in the “real” world. He’d been thinking that his friend was channeled by Bruno, it was a fun idea :)

                    They eventually planned a meeting in real life as soon as Yann would be back from Scotland… 4 days. Quintin even met Yann’s parents then, as his friend Bruno had organized a “surprise” for Yann’s birthday. When Quintin arrived at the train station, they both were feeling a bit awkward, didn’t really know how to say hello :yahoo_big_hug: :yahoo_thinking: :yahoo_kiss: :yahoo_thinking: well for now a hug was perfect. Yann was feeling a strong desire to kiss his friend, he was very attracted and the feeling was quite different from their energy games in Scotland. The physical proximity was creating barriers that weren’t there before… maybe the fear of being intrusive or aggressive…

                    One thing at a time… they were eventually together for 4 days. It was a beginning.

                    Quintin had some stuffs to take care of before they could go to Yann’s appartment. Something to do with his previous appartment, mail to check, some stuffs to take… Nothing particular to tell about that… Yann let Quintin do what he had to do, though he had a strong desire to stroke his hair. After a moment, that’s what he did.

                    Quintin smiled. Yann was feeling an intense warmth in his body and he approached his head and kissed him. Well, that was awkward :)) but soon they were very comfortably lying on the bed and playing different games.

                    Wow thinking again about all that was making him feel hot. Better go to work a little.

                    #1530

                    In reply to: Synchronicity

                    AvatarJib
                    Participant

                      hehe reading back the whole story today at work, and found a long oblong stone sync in the 29th comment :D referring to our last drawing :D let’s make them oblong stones then and maybe in another reality mud men but ;))

                      #1310

                      In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        October 21 st

                        What’s the use of a new-born baby?

                        An interesting reflection is prompted by Armelle about the need to understand things for some of our focuses.

                        « I can do whatever I like with your Stories, give them any Meaning I want. It doesn’t matter… » (Armelle)
                        « Of course! that is the Magic of it » (Rafaela)
                        « And we can see them as Seeds. You don’t need to understand how Seeds work to have them grow » (Yuki)
                        « Yes, in a wild Wilderness. A weedy, overgrown, yet mysteriously lovely Wilderness » (Armelle)
                        « A modicum of Cooperation but largely total Freedom to make what you Want » (Rafaela)
                        « It’s a repository of Energy Seeds » (Yuki)
                        « A weedy, overgrown, yet mysteriously lovely Wilderness » (Armelle)
                        « Yes, that too! Or,… an Eden Garden, with a hovering scaly stinky beast . May it be either an English, Chinese or French Garden, whatever pleases your tastes… » (Yuki)

                        #1475
                        AvatarJib
                        Participant

                          Yes it works :D I did it without knowing you were discussing that :))

                          #324
                          AvatarJib
                          Participant

                            Yann was wandering about in a pet shop, looking for nothing in particular.

                            Quintin had said something about inserting the shift now… well, that sucked… Yann was in a very bad mood, feeling like everyone was against him, nothing was going as he wanted to, and most of all he had lost inspiration. No desire to draw, or to write anything. His life was not fitting. Or so it seemed.

                            Looking closer to the bird cages, and the birds inside, he was amazed at their similarities and their differences. Their shapes and sizes, their colors was the obvious parts. Their shouting also, it was quite messy, and stridulent. But what he noticed most was their behavior, some were just living their own life, proud of themselves and quite fearful when Yann was getting closer to the cage, and others were just flocking together like they couldn’t live apart. Some were singing, some crying, some just quiet and moving nervously or randomly…

                            He went to the parrots room, it was written babies on the cages… they were like full sized parrots to him, very big birds!!! very colorful and impressive. But looking closer, they were not so healthy, their feathers were sort of dull, and even bad shaped and like the parrot had been attacked savagely :yahoo_thinking:. Not very impressive eventually.

                            A few days ago things had become quite erratic at his work… he had felt a strong desire to change, change everything. First he couldn’t understand that desire and he resisted strongly, but soon he created some uncomfortable manifestations. Breathing difficulties, headaches, itching, and even boredom. He just felt the desire to tell bugger off to everyone.

                            The birds were getting boring actually, he left the shop.

                            Walking in the street among the crowd was kinda soothing his uneasiness… though at times he was like feeling what they were strongly projecting. There was that Muslim woman with her chador, and as she went right past him he had that twinge of anger against her, coming from nowhere, and as soon as he noticed that, he just moved his attention to his energy and it was over, no more anger or polarization. Was it his own feelings or was it from that young woman?

                            Whatever, he just enter another shop, home shop, with little thingies and furniture… all these statues, the ones looking like 1920’s ladies were the most appealing… and there were these fairies also, wasn’t it Fiona who had told him about a dream where she was the fairy princess?
                            :yahoo_daydreaming:

                            :yahoo_alien:
                            Oh! that pic… the man had a blue skin… with dolphins on his face creating shadows… the pic was a blend of sort, very funny, and the man was cute :yahoo_whistling: as was the shop assistant…

                            Time to leave… he went off the shop and continued walking. Bright sun, fresh air, all was clearing. His mood also. He thought again about what he and Quintin had been planning. It seemed something crazy, but it also seemed related to what was happening in his life. Since Vienna, their relation had become closer and closer, and for the most part it was very endearing, very fun and also very intense. All these energies, all this creativity, it had to be part of a bigger picture.

                            :yahoo_oh_go_on:

                            Thinking about that, his friend Dory had told him about a bigger picture once, and he was teasing her about that… but now it was making sense. His abilities to remember his dreams had increased in a way, though most of the time he did not remember his dream in the morning. He’d noticed he could if he was just relaxing a bit and let his attention go back to that dream self of his… At times he had also some weird experiences about parallel realities and shift of perception, like the room is translucent and he can move through it in another dimension, very freaky that one :yahoo_not_listening:

                            #1474
                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              Posting comment – sign in issue

                              :bulb: OK, if the same weird thing happens, telling you you’re not signed in (when you are already), and refuses to post the comment, just hit “add your comment” again, and it should work…

                              :yahoo_idk:

                              #323

                              — The legend of Mævel — (Part II)

                              The young fairy princess, whose secret name had been forgotten, and thus her very existence to whoever had known her, grew up as a beautiful child.
                              Mævel she was, and the youngest of the clan too. Her delicate features stood out of the many children that Jorg and Ilga, her human parents already had, and they first saw her as probably their most useless child, being frail and unfit to the works of the woods. But she’d been saved from a sure death, and that had proved to them that the child was some odd gift from the Gods.

                              Mævel looking at her brothers and sisters, was constantly reminded of how different she was, as small and fair and fragile as a sparfly’s egg. She helped her mother Ilga as much as she could in the kitchen, preparing meals for the clan. Her parents did not know how she could ever get a husband, as she would never be much of a great cook either.
                              So, she was feeling not fulfilled by what she was doing. She loved her parents, and sisters, and brothers, but there was something else that she did not know how to express.
                              During the springing and sunny seasons, and even the rainy and icy one, she would go after her works had been done to the little meadow brook, and watch for hours the little rosy trouts dancing in the clear waters.

                              And much of her young years passed, and she learned how to cook, how to sew and how to wash clothes and many other tasks that could help the family. She had improved much in her skills and could do wonderful adornments to her sisters and brothers clothes. But noone cared about the adornments, which would be useless for them. But they loved their little sister nonetheless, though they did not understand.
                              Soon, all the elder brothers left the house, one by one, and the sisters too. And as Mævel turned twenty one, she was left alone with old Jorg and old Ilga.

                              That day, her parents had offered her a pearl white ribbon, for her to tie her hair, and they had thought it would probably please her, as it was as useless a thing as their mind could imagine. And indeed she was delighted by the gift, and to please her parents, she had danced and sung in the night, barefooted on the floorboard, her shiny golden hair swirling around her, as they both loved her to do.

                              The next day, Mævel went to the brook to wash some clothes, when she noticed a reddish bluish spark of light coming from the forest nearby. How strange she thought. Perhaps it is only my imagination. But soon, a plaintiff cry came from the same direction, and she was deeply moved by the cry.
                              Leaving her clothes to dry up, she went to the forest, knowing she could trust her instincts and that no wild beast would harm her. Calling to see if someone was there, a voice called her, crying “here, here!”

                              Behind some fern trees, she was surprised as she saw a wounded blue fox. Was it the fox that had spoken?
                              — Yes, that was me, answered the blue fox
                              — Oh, a talking fox! You are wounded, aren’t you? asked Mævel
                              — Yes, a stupid arrow from a stupid hunter… I can’t extract it, would you help me?
                              — Of course, answered Mævel, hold on a second.

                              And she leaned forward to draw the arrow from the fox’s leg, holding fast so that it would not hurt the creature. She was just knowing what to do, as if she had done it many times already. Then she drew out her white handkerchief, and bandaged the bleeding wound, tying it tightly with her pearl white ribbon.

                              — I must leave now, said the fox, I am greatly indebted to you, young lady
                              — Will you tell me your name?
                              — I am called Blohmrik. And may I inquire as to your name?
                              — I’m called Mævel, but you can call me Mæ
                              — Such a lovely name…
                              — How come you are a talking fox?
                              — I was not always in the form that you see now. This form is due to a curse from the God of the Forgotten, from which I foolishly tried to stole secrets when I was a young god learning magic.
                              Ooh, so you are a god? Mævel was amazed
                              — Oh, smiled sadly the fox, as you are also, though you probably don’t realize. Gods are not so different than what you think…
                              — Oh, really? So there isn’t anything I can do for you, is there?
                              — You have already done much for today Mæ
                              Mævel was blushing… She dared ask to her new friend
                              — And will I see you again?
                              — Perhaps sooner than you know.

                              #309
                              F LoveF Love
                              Participant

                                Wow that is so kind of Becky to organise an outing for us all. What a sweetie pooh she is! To be honest, I have been a bit worried about her, she has been acting so weird lately, almost scarey violent at times and yesterday she was going on about needing to get ahead, and not being heard, or that she was head, or something…. actually I could not really follow. Al, maybe you could try sounding a bit more grateful for all her hard work organising this fun outing, said Tina, sweetly.

                                #276
                                F LoveF Love
                                Participant

                                  Whanga the witch crawled out of the narrow entrance to her cosy cave to survey the day. Perfect witching weather she chuckled gleefully to herself; a tad overcast and cold, which made her job much easier, as even the fairies tended a little to despondency in such weather conditions. She noticed a bruise on her left shin and sighed. Whanga was used to this sort of misunderstanding in her job of course. She enjoyed her work, and was proud of what she did, however humans in particular just didn’t understand the service she provided, and were quick to be vengeful. The dream world left her a little exposed unless she remembered to do her protective spells before sleep, and last night she had just been too weary. Still, she thought cheering up considerably, she had obtained another wand for her collection yesterday, and felt sure this would improve her Witch of Loathing ranking.

                                  Still feeling a little put out though about the bruise, although this was mainly pride, as she was impervious to pain in the way the humans suffered it, Whanga looked into her glass ball to see what knowledge it would reveal. That little Fairy Princess from the Land of the Far White Cloud was carrying on she saw. Hmmm who was that fat lady with her though? Whanga wondered. She looked very familiar to Whanga, who felt a ripple of uneasiness in her right index finger, a sure sign of danger. This could be trouble ….

                                  She looked again and saw a young human female, attacking her violently in her dreams. For a moment Whanga toyed with the idea of revenge and cackled happily at the idea of all the mischief she could cause.

                                  Pull yourself together Whanga, said Whanga, drawing back reluctantly from this delightful daydream. Keep on track. You know it won’t get you any points with the high witch adjudicators, it is the fairies you must focus on.

                                  #301

                                  Illi was quite pleased with the sand dragons.

                                  HHHMMM, they don’t repulse me like dragons usually do. I think it’s because they are sand dragons, and sand is so much nicer than slimy cold scales. Well! Illi thought, I really wouldn’t know if they are slimy or cold, because, for the love of all-that-is, I would not choose to venture that close!

                                  Illi chose to ignore her rather paradoxical musings on loving all that is, which would by definition include the beastly dragons, and turned her attention to the sand giant slouching patiently at the end of the beach.

                                  Now giants, that’s another thing entirely. I am quite enamoured of giants, and this one looks so familiar!

                                  Illi leaned back against the sand dragons bulky body and closed her eyes, reminiscing about her early years as Illi Fergusson, and her eccentric family.

                                  ~~~

                                  When Illi was a young child she rarely saw her parents, the eccentric Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson and his charmingly batty second wife, Floribunda Chaiise-Loriket. Illi stayed at home in the anscestral country pile in Dorset, Rubbingdon Hall, with Nanny Chraddock while her parents travelled the world in search of giant bones and artifacts. Their travels took them far and wide, from the jungles of South America to the deserts of North Africa; from the mountains of Spain to the arid eternity of the Australian outback.

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

                                  #1448
                                  TracyTracy
                                  Participant

                                    http://www.north-of-africa.com/article.php3?id_article=418

                                    This might be a better link for the comment about the connection between Egypt and Tuaregs :) :weather-clear:

                                    as well as the Egypt connection :

                                    At Jabbaren, he found a city with alleys, cross-roads and squares. The walls were covered with hundreds of paintings. Jabbaren is a Tuareg word meaning “giants” and the name refers to the paintings found inside the city, some of which depict human figures that are indeed gigantic in size. One of them measured up to eighteen feet high. Several of these paintings depicted “Martians” and for Lhote, it was the first time he discovered paintings of hundreds of oxen. Jabbaren was soon labelled one of the oldest sites of the Tassili.

                                    I think the mummy may be 6 meters tall………(Rahim told me that the tombs there were extraordinarily long….and we did have a giant enter the story ….) :yahoo_thinking:

                                    ~~~~~~~~~

                                    AND: The Tassili n’Ajjer

                                    …..the Hoggar Mountains and the Tassili n’Ajjer, one of the most enchanting mountain ranges on this planet……

                                    There were largely two forms of rock paintings, distinguishable by the location in which they were found. Some were found in rock shelters, such as at Aouanrhet. These sites were where the shaman performed his divination, as the face of a rock was often seen as a doorway to another dimension (another parallel with the paintings in the French caves).

                                    (this reminds me of Oversoul Seven! # book by Jane Roberts)

                                    Though one could interpret their location as the work of a nomadic people, Lhote’s team also found several urban settlements.
                                    He found small concentrations of human activity around Tan-Zoumiatak in the Tin Abou Teka massif. It was a little rocky citadel that dominated the gorge below. The citadel was cut through with a number of narrow alleys. Lhote described the art he found here as: “There were life-size figures painted in red ochre, archers with muscular arms and legs, enormous ‘cats’, many scenes with cattle, war-chariots and so forth. Up to this time I had never seen figures of this sort in the Tassili and the mass of paintings that I managed to view that day quite put into the shade all those I had seen up to then.”

                                    more:

                                    http://www.philipcoppens.com/tassili.html

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                                    ENORMOUS CATS?????? :yahoo_surprise:

                                    #298

                                    The City, year 2257

                                    Janice had just awoken from a strange dream, where she was watching big round cabbages being harvested in what looked like Quintin’s father garden. They were all firmly rooted on a black irrigation pole across the garden, and people were using strange devices to turn them all delicately and pick them afterwards. In the dream, there were black puppies too, sleeping in the straw of a kind of hut nearby. And she had seen another creature, and had been surprised first because it was unlike anything she had ever met, even in dreams. It was hairless and brown as soft mud, and was hiding in the neighbour’s garden. Then it had crossed and came to play with her…

                                    Janice was lost in her thoughts strolling on the way to the common dome, when she met Rodney, her father’s friend.
                                    They had been recently trying with her father Jacob, and also Qixi to connect with their shifting focuses of the Ancients, two centuries and half before their time.
                                    Some of them, they had found, had been playing a sort of game of story-telling and clue-sowing… (Janice was laughing as her father’s friend, the scientist Arkandin, always insisted on seesawing instead)

                                    Perhaps her dream was telling her that the crop was ripe, and it was time to harvest some from it. She told her dream to Rodney. All at once, he was quite excited and they started to feel they wanted to chat more freely. So they went into one of the Medraw Caps that was available and soon imagined a comfortable environment for themselves to explore more.

                                    Janice could hear Al or Quintin complain about how things were getting confusing.
                                    She tried to convey to both of them that they could be excited about it, as it was expanding their understanding, but they weren’t very receptive.

                                    ~~~

                                    Somewhere Al was saying to Becky
                                    — The more you try to fix it, the more confused I am
                                    — Hahahahah yes! Becky was answering, I guess so! Ahahahah! Al, what a fabulous dance of confusion we do… The Confundo Tango
                                    — Ahahah, yes!

                                    Al started again to moan:
                                    — So who’s dead, who’s the shapeshifter? Who’s the human, who’s the cat? :-??

                                    (Rodney was laughing, as for him, he could accept the confusion as much easier, letting him free to wander around!)

                                    Illi was a woman, a shapeshifter who shape-shifted into a cat, then, she died. Becky was saying (Rodney added mentally “Now, she is disengaged” as he knew that “death” was a confusing word.) She was an archaeologist
                                    — Okay, that’s cool, that’s what I thought, Al acquiesced. Then thought back of what was said of her and wondered… Anyway, it will probably find a perfect answer …
                                    Becky nodded
                                    — I got lost myself when two Illis appeared, and a grip-thing as well
                                    — Because I didn’t want the grip-thing to be dead! Al couldn’t help but laugh. That would have been too easy, like wiggling out. Not using your imagination within the context of objective imagery to sort out “things”…

                                    ~~~

                                    While Rodney and Janice were seeing that their other focuses were kind of stuck in their explanation, they had time freeze and both decided to come back to their “now” to start from their understanding.
                                    A funny thought had come to Janice, that she shared with Rodney.
                                    — Oh, the funny thing you know, about Becky having written to Sean
                                    Rodney nodded. Janice continued:
                                    — It just appeared in my mind just moments ago, at the same time you (well, Rafaela) inserted into the story of Malvina. That Becky would have been asking Sean something, and that perhaps it would have helped him talk to his father in the future.

                                    — Well, that Sean is SUCH AN ENIGMA! bumped Rodney a bit excited by the implications.
                                    — What do you mean? asked Janice, who just remembered that Sean Doran has a cousin named Dorean.
                                    — Who is he? Where is he? was asking Rodney now.
                                    Rodney was having a hard time remembering what had been inserted yet in the story about him.

                                    So Janice manifested the Wrick family tree in front of them, so that he could see better. She started by manifesting an acorn, then threw in on the grass, and it sprung forth in a little sapling with signs hanging from its branches.

                                    — Well, it’s all in the script, answered Janice, he’s Lord Wrick’s son.
                                    — Oh boy, I am in trouble again for not keeping up with the facts! Rodney sighed, and laughed…
                                    Janice laughed “So that you can surprise yourself again!”

                                    Rodney felt thankful for the sumafiness of Janice who was always prompt to display helpful hallucinations and reminders.

                                    Janice stopped the growth of the family tree for a moment and started to comment it.
                                    — See, in Becky’s time of the reality play, Sean is Lord’s Wrick son, and has just lost his wife Margaret, and got his two young children around their 10s.
                                    — When is Becky’s time then? Rodney wondered, I hadn’t though of that…
                                    Becky’s time for the reality play is around 2033…
                                    Then Janice had the tree grow again, and sprout more branches from Sean’s children:
                                    — …Now, Sean is the grand-father of the twins, except than the twin’s time is around 2057 if it had not changed yet. It’s so carefully woven, but it’s fun how it effortlessly came to fit in.
                                    TRUST AND ALLOWING AND GOING WITH THE FLOW cried Rodney and Janice in unison, in the realisation of how well all this was.

                                    Rodney was beginning to remember it all.
                                    — I just remember the part about Sean, so he is still a bit of a mystery
                                    — Yes, absolutely
                                    — We don’t really know do we why Hilarion didn’t mention him
                                    — Oh, there’s also the Margaret newspaper thing… Janice fumbled in her memory to find the proper link that would display the image of the newspaper cut just at the right of the family tree. Adding with a wink “with more dates to get bearings”
                                    — Ahahah, I’d love to have pocketfuls of ball bearings said Rodney who manifested a pocketful to distract him from the load of information. OH YES! he cried, I had forgetten about this! What an incredibly HUGE story this is…

                                    Rodney was squinting his dream eyes
                                    — So, Sean was into humanitarian effort after 2001…
                                    — His father actually I think, said Janice. He was a bit too young.
                                    — Oh OK, I misread, that’s hard to read!

                                    Then, all of a second, Rodney erupted in an uproarious laugh
                                    AHAHAHA, I had just forgotten to de-hallucinate these pince-nez spectacles! Now, it is much easier to read!
                                    Janice was laughing so hard, she thought she would shatter the hallucination with the wobbles of the soundless sounds.
                                    Then she added:

                                    Sean is born around 2000, a bit before.
                                    — OK, maybe he went to help the Tuaregs, Rodney was accessing some information now. Maybe he was the one who put the mummy in the locked room that India found.
                                    — You know I had something funny in store for the mummy mystery, Janice couldn’t help but laugh again. I imagined we could have inserted Old Manon, coming down to secretly drink from her old malt whiskey’s flask, and finding them messing up with her old dear stuffed cat…
                                    — Maybe the mummy was the same one that Dory saw in the oblong hole in the ground outside the cave, Rodney was still accessing flickering images swirling around his head. And Sean was there helping the Tuaregs and moved it to safety.
                                    Of course, years previously, Illi Fergusson, the archeologist had buried the mummy there too for safe keeping.

                                    Now, Janice was hooked:
                                    — Was it where Illi learned about shapeshifting tricks from the old tribe?
                                    Rodney noticed Janice’s funny remark and laughed before continuing:
                                    — The Tuaregs were conducting secret coleslaw experiments in the desert. In combination with sound and irrigation techniques, they were going to run the entire Sahara into a broccoli field.

                                    Janice was amazed at the cabbage “coincidence” and irrigation stuff with her dream of that morning. Of course she knew there where probably mis-interpretation of the imagery coming from Rodney’s visions, but something made sense.
                                    — Around which year? she asked
                                    — Arrggh I don’t know!… Then, taking a breath of dream air, Rodney said “1923”. When Illi learned shape-shifting trick, 1923.
                                    — It makes sense, said Janice who was now thinking of other dispersed informations about Illi Fergusson.
                                    — Yes, she learned from Dashine Ashara… Although who that is, I don’t yet know.
                                    — Wow, said Janice. She had felt a connection with the “da’sheen” sound. She continued: somewhere, Illi Fergusson has said: “my parents were aristocrats”
                                    — Yes, answered Rodney who was accessing again, they were, and they knew the Wildes .
                                    — And it was said too: “[…] a nurturing presence that reminded Illi of the maid she and her parents had in their cottage in South Africa”… like her parents were traveling a lot.
                                    — Ah, South Africa! Illi’s parents emigrated to South Africa with Sir Abingdon Portfellow, an elderly scholar on ancient artifacts and embalming.
                                    — Seems she knew John Lubbock too, said Janice again, reviving old data banks of information. Dates seem okay, so if she was around 30 in the Tuareg adventure, she could have met him.
                                    — Wow, said Rodney, this is even more interesting…

                                    “But we may sit at home and yet be in all quarters of the earth.” Janice had just summoned the voice of the naturalist and archaeologist. Rodney applauded “Lubbock said that? cool quote!”.
                                    — Yes, like Illi’s quote, which was from him “What we see depends mainly on what we look for”. I wonder if that’s one of your (Illi’s) overlapping focuses, said Janice

                                    — Well, Illi didnt stay long in South Africa with boring old whatever his name was, Rodney pursued
                                    — Yes, she was young with her parents. They were traveling…

                                    They were both amazed at the magical cooperation they were doing at that moment. Janice would have loved to share all of that with Qixi and Jacob, but probably their energies were present at the moment too, though not focused here.

                                    She then remembered something else:
                                    — Oh, and there is something else! Quintin’s dream of the woman detective. Let me fetch it she said, summoning now Quintin’s memory to talk to them.
                                    … by night, near a museum in London, in the 1920s. She was investigating a case of a strange disappearance near a small replicate of an Egyptian pyramid that had been put here for display. There had been an exposition of ancient artifacts in the museum, which had been recently unearthed by a team of archaeologists and graciously lent by Egypt’s officials. Strangely enough, the woman detective feels linked to the story, and is probably Dory
                                    Date fits again, she said in awe.
                                    — Perfect! said Rodney. She was of course Dory too, but in that focus she was Illi Fergusson… he slowed down, then said No! wait! The detective was another one of my focuses. The archeologist who stole the mummy for safekeeping was Illi.
                                    — Hmmm
                                    — Hmmm
                                    — So you are both the thief and the detective, the one who creates mystery for yourself, how interesting, giggled Janice.
                                    — Yes, and not only that Janice! Rodney was taking a mysterious air… I am the mummy too!

                                    Janice bust out laughing imagining Rodney in bandages. Yes, of course!
                                    Then, she had a name come with that: Apsh’un Shet she said, very self-absorbed.
                                    Now, that was Rodney’s turn to burst out laughing.
                                    — “I am not sure about that!”
                                    — Doubting my insights… mmm, how rude… Janice frowned then laughed again.
                                    — If you call me that, I may have to make you out to have a speech impediment
                                    — Sounds a good Egyptian name for me though, seems it means “Light of the Dawn
                                    — Does it? Oh that sounds nice…
                                    — Well, in some Egyptian dialect, yes. She was a Princess…
                                    — Hahaha! Reminds me of Aspen Shit. Rodney doubted Janice could be serious about that name, but Janice was now the one to be accessing some information.
                                    — Bit bossy Princess
                                    — Which dynasty?
                                    III rd, answered Janice, who fumbled in links of consciousness to find some timeline to project for them.
                                    — What year?
                                    Janice projected the timeline below then said
                                    — I’d say around 2657 B.C., in Ancients way of telling time.

                                    They both marveled at the splendid team work they had been doing, and hoped that the other focuses involved would be able to get some parts of their insights too.

                                    Rodney was seeing something else
                                    — There is also, a very fascinating link between Tassili in the Sahara and Egypt which is a mystery AND there is a connection with Egypt and Scotland too…
                                    Illi the gripshawk comes from the mysterious land of the Sands, south of the map fragment
                                    — We may unravel more than we think… Illi is an other dimensional focus of the Illi essence…
                                    — Yes she is. She is a connection too, being “lost” in the land of dragons after hopping through traveling portals…
                                    — Exactly
                                    — And they communicated because they are helping each other
                                    — Which is why she doesn’t always ‘fit’ into this reality’s energy configuration
                                    — And they have some difficulties at times with translations of other dimensional stuff
                                    — Yes! resulting in confusion!

                                    And they both laughed again, looking at the great tapestry of clues that was woven before their dream eyes.

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