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  • #1168

    Military hospital, Scott Base, October 2008

    “It’s BLOODY freezing ‘ere!” a hirsute mop of hair was whining on a camp bed next to two others.

    “Would you just shut the flove up, Glo! You’ve been whining for ‘ours now! It’s not bloddy believable…”
    “Like Mavis says, Glo! We all got in that same bloddy boat ye know… It’s no bed of stinkin’ roses for us either!”

    A long sigh came from Glo, again interrupting the silence.

    “A bloddy pity, you have to admit; being a lady, with PMS for years… At least I could console meself I didn’t have to shave like a man for Pete’s sake! And now we’re over with bloddy PMS, we are as hairy as gorillas!”

    “Don’t be silly Glo, they said they’d find a cure… innit Sha? T’is not what they said? Vessie promised us!”
    “Yeah, just before that little trollop ran away with the others, leaving us in quarantine… Not even a consideration for our efforts to help her seduce the sexy guy …”
    “Ungrateful yeah… When we could have stolen the guy’s heart easily…”
    “Ahahaha, no blimin’ way! not with your new hairdo Sha dear… Ahahah, don’t mean to be rude!”
    “Hey girls, any idea where’s Askitoy?…”
    Akita ?”
    “Put him in confinement I reckon… The poor bloke was delirious, saying he was a WWII soldier…”
    “Good thing the bloddy honeycomb didn’t make us loose our sharp wits, eh!”

    #1156

    “Hey, Leo, look at this here in the newspaper ~ my book’s being made into a movie!”

    “What book’s that then, Bea? Not that dreadful ‘T’eggy Gets a Good Rogering’, surely.” Leonora replied dismissively.

    “Oh they’re not calling it that for the movie…..”

    “Bloody good job if you ask me” Leo interrupted, and then exclaimed “OH!”

    “What?”

    “Book sync!”

    “Book sync? What book sync?”

    “I forgot to tell you, Baked Bean Barb called…”

    “Who?!”

    “You remember, we met her in that bar down on the coast awhile back, remember? We got talking over a few tapas ~ found we had some mutual friends back home and all…”

    “Funny how that happens, eh ~ small world, innit? So what did she call for then?”

    “Well, it’s the funniest thing, she said when she was rummaging around on the rubbish tip….”

    “Oh now I remember, you mean Baked Bean Barb! The one that’s lived in her Ford Fiesta for 15 years, and finds food in dustbins? That one? On the run, wasn’t she?”

    “That’s the one! On the run for 30 years because of that Baked Bean Incident that was in all the papers”

    “You meet all sorts down here, eh. So what did she call for?”

    “Well” continued Leonora “It’s the strangest thing! She said she found a book on the rubbish tip, which was in English, so she says she took the book ~ she reads alot you know, Barb does, even though she’s only got one eye. Dunno how she manages it really, her glasses are always so dirty…”

    “Will you get to the point?”

    “Hang on, hang on, I’m getting there….she found this book, right, so she goes back to wherever she’s camped up, you know, with the other travellers, all them old hippies on their way to Morocco for the winter I expect….”

    “We should go with them next winter Leo, might be fun”

    “I reckon it would Bea ~ well with Jose coming back soon from that island, we’ll have to go somewhere ~ anyway, as I was saying, Barb starts reading this book, she says it’s the most peculiar book she’s ever read, never read anything like it, she says, but she can’t put it down she says ~ well, you’ll never guess what!”

    “I can’t guess, Leo, I’m waiting for you to tell me.”

    Barb says we’re in the book!”

    “What do you mean, we’re in the book?”

    “We’re in the book! ‘Leonora and Beattie’ are in the book! Renting a finca from a ‘Jose’ and living in the mountains in Andalucia!”

    “You’re having me on!” exclaimed Bea. “I’ve gotta see this to believe it.”

    #1146

    “Oh My God” exclaimed Bea. “I had a dream about the DOOR!”

    “Oh, well done! The question is, did you remember it?” asked Leonora.

    “As a matter of fact, Leo, I did!” replied Bea with a happy smile. “As a matter of fact, although I’m not too sure how factual matter really is, but anyway, I did remember the dream, and I wrote it all down.”

    “Gosh, up early this morning, weren’t you?” asked Leo, who was sipping coffee at the kitchen table and watching the sun come up over the mountains through the open door.

    “Oh I didn’t write it down this morning, silly! I wrote it all down last week.”

    Leo placed her cup on the table and rubbed her eyes, frowning. “Wait a minute, let me get this straight…..”

    Bea laughed ~ she was in rather a jolly mood, despite the early hour. “I had the dream last week, Leo, but I only just realized this morning that the dream was about THE DOOR

    “So what did you learn about the door, then?”

    Bea frowned. “Well I’m not really sure. But it seemed so significant because it was that scary door, you know, the dreams I’ve been having for years about that door in that bedroom that’s too scary to get near, never mind go through….would you like to read it? Maybe you can interpret it for me.”

    “If I must” sighed Leonora “You better pour me another cup of coffee then and pass me those cigarettes.”

    Leonora read from Bea’s Dream Journal:

    I was sorting winter clothes out on an upstairs landing of a cottagey gabled house,
    and decided to use the upstairs bedroom instead of the downstairs one.
    The bedroom was a recurring dream one, gabled attic with dormer windows kind of room.
    Then I saw the door and remembered this was the door I was always too terrified
    in dreams to open; it was so scary that I always wanted to use this bedroom
    but never could because of that terrifying door and whatever lay beyond it.

    “Didn’t you do a waking dream and go through that door?” Leonora asked. “Oh, yes here is is…”

    Remembering that I had done a waking dream and gone beyond the door once,
    I marched up to the door, flung it open and strode through.
    Suddenly an almost overpowering fear and dread stopped me in my tracks
    but I carried on anyway.

    “Oh, bloody well done, Bea! Good for you, girl!” Leonora could be a bit waspish at times, but she was a kind old soul underneath.

     It was a bit like a old slightly shabby but once grand hotel foyer, high ceilings
    (not the same as when I went through in the waking dream, which was then rows
    of closed doors on either side).  The foyer opened out on the left into a large old
    fashioned restaurant dining room, with one person over on the far side sitting at
    a table.  I carried on straight ahead through opaque etched glass double doors
    onto an upstairs outdoor terrace.  There was a city scene below.  On the left
    was a shallow ornately shaped ornamental pool.

    “Reminds me a bit of our trip to Barcelona, this does, eh” Leo commented.

    “Yeah, I’m sure that had something to do with the gargoyle imagery” replied Bea.

    A woman squeezed past me holding a small thick book and I knew she was
    going to jump off the terrace which was several storeys up.  She collapsed into
    the pool, writhing backwards, baring a flat white breast and dropping the book.

    “Flat breast, hahah Bea, that weren’t you then, obviously, was it!”

    Bea chuckled. “Not bloody likely! I reckon that bit slipped in the dream because I can’t find a comfortable bra lately”

    “You and me both” replied Leo. She continued reading from the journal.

    I picked up the book, and somehow ended up with two books, which seemed like guide books. I couldn’t hold onto the two books with the creature in my hand, which was weird, like a very heavy small furry grey reptile, or gargoyle.

    “Maybe it was a baby dragon?”

    “Don’t say that!” retorted Bea, who had a horror of dragons. “The thought did cross my mind too, though” she admitted.

    I was holding it with one hand round its middle and the fat grey belly of it
    was bulging out under my fingers.  It was unbelievably heavy for such a small creature
    and I didn't want to hold it, so I passed it to a boy. (Twice I was holding the creature,
    and twice I passed it to the boy, but I can't recall the other time)
    Back inside the building, I followed the boy down a big wide staircase that
    curved round to the right at a landing below.  I started to fall down the stairs and
    knew it was because of the book that I was holding that the woman had been holding
    when she collapsed into the pool, so I threw the book down the stairs to save myself,
    and felt the tumbling down from the books perspective, although I stayed in
    the same place, clutching the banister.

    “Well I am amazed that you remembered so much, Bea! Going through the doors and finding the books reminds me of Jane’s Library you know”. Leo was starting to go into an altered state.

    “Are you going into an altered state, Leo?” asked Bea. “Are you channeling Juani Ramirez again?”

    “The creature, the gargoyle, was representing ‘a different species of awareness, of consciousness’” continued Leonora, as Bea hastily started taking notes. Leo wouldn’t remember what she’d said while she was channeling Juani, so it was essential that Bea record what was said.

    “The weight was a marker to help you recall the creature, as well as being symbolic of denseness”

    Bea couldn’t help making a snirking noise. Dense eh, she said under her breath.

    “The door” continued Leonora “Is a signpost, a marker.”

    Just then the phone rang, snapping Leonora out of the trance. Bea picked up the telephone, but there was nobody there.

    “Pffft” said Bea.

    “More coffee?”

    #1123

    Upon hearing Malvina’s thoughts, Arona smiled to herself.

    If only she knew the truth!

    ( If I put big spaces in-between, it will make it look as though I have written more, decided Tina rather cleverly, still feeling a bit creatively uninspired.)

    Tempted though she was, Arona knew she must not give anything away. It was easier to stay in character if she did not allow herself to remember too often, at least until this cave mission was complete. Occasionally she allowed herself the luxury of remembering, yet to do so was to feel a yearning for home.

    It was a pity about the outfit of course, the mouldy cloak…

    ( hmmm was it mouldy though or just a bit on the musty side? )

    … which the Oddlings had decided she would wear for much of this assignment was not her favourite look. Even though she had managed eventually to lose it in the darkness of the cave, her current clothes were now almost in tatters. Arona sighed wistfully, remembering the beautiful silks, chiffons and organzas some of her previous assignments.

    Moments later she brightened again thinking of Vincentius and her other friends.

    There were certainly compensations, she decided philosophically.

    Arona was a little concerned about the meddling of Malvina and the others, although of course she realised they were doing it with the best of intentions to fulfill their own purposes. Arona understood all this, and sometimes regretted she could not tell them who she really was. The powerful thought shields she had been trained in by the Oddlings meant that her disguise had not so far been penetrated.

    Yet she hated to deceive.

    Not to worry. For now she must just focus on the completion of her own mission here.

    She called to Buckberry softly in her thoughts and felt a little thrill of excitement when she heard his response. She knew she would have need of the little dragon for the task which lay ahead.

    #1117
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Becky was having fun looking at some old entries from a few years back when she was still a child…

      She suddenly had a shocking revelation. Is “butler” the new code for a good rogering?

      #1114

      Inside the cave, the presence of Leormn, though not completely gone, had diminished strongly. Most of the creatures inside the cave were thriving on his presence and his continuous reshaping of the corridors or the chambers. His presence was fading out gradually, and some of the more sensitive creatures were beginning to feel a discomfort, a kind of emptiness or a sensation of cold.

      Malvina was not alarmed yet, it was a good thing he had allowed himself that little escapade. In a subtle way, he was reconciling some aspects of himself that he had been unaware of yet, and it was also a surprise to Malvina that the gates would reopen in that particular time frame, to the long lost sister of the Duane. Her awareness of what her dragon was doing was dim, and it had been so since the door had shut after the passage of Arona. This young girl had more than one trick up her mouldy cloak, and though she was unaware of most of them, she had an innate sense of using them wittingly.

      Malvina smiled at the thought that she was quite similar to the girl when she was young… a long time ago.

      But for now, she had other processes to set in motion. She focused on herself and adjusted her energy to match the signature of her friends Georges and Salome. It didn’t took long. Their presence was quite strong. As they were busy at the moment, she decided to go for a walk and meet them on her way.

      :fleuron:

      Georges and Salome were in the pool chamber that Leormn had kindly created for them inside the cave. It was continuously provided in hot water by a spring located on the ceiling and several families of glukenitch had furnished the place with the perfect amount of light…

      Georges was following her progression from a ledge made of a rock similar to granite. He’d always been fascinated by her way of expressing her grace and technical mastery in any domain. When they had met, she couldn’t swim… and she wouldn’t. It’d been years later, when she had got rid of her wariness of water that she had considered the idea.
      Now she was as comfortable inside and outside water, as well as in many different environments.

      Being continuously connected, their energy field mingled in such an intimate way, he could easily turn his attention on her physical sensations; all the tiniest movements of the water upon her skin and also all of the adjustments she was making to her body inside and outside to improve the efficiency of her movements.

      He dived off his observation point to play with her.
      Alerted by his movement, she went deeper into the pool. He knew that she hadn’t modified her body to the point of incorporating gills, because it was usually difficult for her to get rid of them afterward. She had a soft spot for apnea, though and she was quite able of staying under water for lengthy amount of time.

      Still focused on his swimming, he began to redirect certain aspects of his body consciousness. Some were unnecessary for his purpose, so he got rid of them; and he needed to give some other qualities to his skin. It took him a few seconds to shape-shift and he focused on his new physical senses to indicate him where she was.

      When she realized what Georges was doing, she resisted the impulse to go to the surface.
      What is he up to? she thought. When he’s in the process of shape-shifting his attention is so oriented inside that I can’t usually get any impression about his new shape, but

      A flash of light illuminated the water around him, and the rhythm of the blinking cells of his new skin was creating a time related pattern with an hypnotic effect. Salome was feeling drowsy and she had to maintain her attention on herself or she’d better get back to the surface soon. If she wanted to play with him now, she would have to change form too.

      #1110

      Elizabeth Tattler giggled to herself as she recalled her escapades of the night before. Why, it was years since she had been out dancing, and let alone in foom! Surprisingly it had been Finnley’s idea. A bit of a dark horse really that Finnley. Apparently she went to the foom parties regularly, on the pretext of dancing, but in reality to save on her laundry costs.

      Oh what a gloorious feeling! The techtonook music blaring, stroobe lights flashing, wet bubbly foom up to her neck. It wasn’t long before she had cast all her inhibitions aside, along with her cloothing, and was mooving and grooving along with the best of them.

      Who said dirty dancing couldn’t be good clean fun?

      Even Finnley’s rather disparaging sideways glances had not been able to diminish her exooberant joy.

      Elizabeth wondered what Lemone’s “Words of Comfort for the Descending” quotation was for that day. His words were always so appropriate it was almost eerie.

      When it’s too elaborate, it’s too weirdo, and when it’s pure delirium, it’s increasingly rubbish

      Well, perhaps the connection was not straight away obvious, but the sheer genius of the man’s mind never failed to render Elizabeth almost speechless with admiration.

      #1061
      Jib
      Participant

        She had been taken to her room by a handsome young Russian after the onboard doctor, who was quite handsome too, had examined her. She had the vague impression she was turning a tad nymphomaniac. She chuckled and she stopped as soon as she realized she sounded like an old goose. No she would not loose her dignity. But she needed to release her tensions.

        The doctor had told her she was lucky they came at that very moment, but kept quiet after that. That she was aware of, but she couldn’t get more out of him and she was too tired to use her other tricks on him.
        Better rest a moment; she was confident she’d be kept up to date soon enough by Pavel.

        How strongly she was despising him…
        She didn’t know it was possible before their first encounter in Paris, years ago. :yahoo_thinking:
        Mixed feelings filled up those memories… :yahoo_angry: :yahoo_love_struck: it was also at the same time she’d met Georges, the Dandy as he liked to be called then. What a pair of thieves they were… When was it? 1852? 1853? She wasn’t sure…

        Her first mistake was to ask them to retrieve that stone from the antique store for her… Of course she hadn’t told them what she was looking for… she only asked them to steal everything in the shop! Still, they didn’t bring it back from the shop though she was positive the sunstone was there… they told her that was all they found; Georges seemed so sincere that she wouldn’t have thought he would double her and keep the stone… and much less use it. Soon enough… yes soon enough she realized she had been deceived.

        Her second mistake was to offer them an arrangement… but that’s another story. She was not as wary as she was now.

        She sighed. :yahoo_sigh:

        Nothing interesting to steal in that room. Just raw blankets and a plain wooden chair… she wouldn’t have expected more from Pavel. Always keeping the best for himself and not quite as chivalrous as the Dandy. Pavel… How did they call him back then? She couldn’t or wouldn’t recall it… something like the Monk… the Monkey would have better suited him, she thought bitterly.

        But now; she had no time to loose in dim memories.
        She had to plan her escape.

        knock knock

        It only took her a few seconds to compose herself.

        — Come on in.

        #1060
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Today was the commemoration of the fifth anniversary of the first transmutation made on Earth.

          Of course, it didn’t take into account previous attempts (or successes), because they were of the domain of science-fiction and dubious history facts. But now, not only was it rock-solid proven feasible, but also it had change people’s lives like the invention of electricity had about two century ago, in the mid 1800s.

          At first, people had not grasped the profound implications of that discovery. It was another funny science experiment from researchers, and didn’t seem to have any more practical usage as did goat cloning, and creation of phosphorescent pigs. However, to mark the consciousnesses of the importance of the event, the government hadn’t skimped on the showcase. Not that it was of any importance after what evolution was bound to happen afterward, but still, huge sums of money were spent brilliantly.

          The symbolic aspect of choosing what object to transmute wasn’t unnoticed. It could be virtually anything physical: garbage, contaminated soil… But it had to mean more.
          Someone whose name was forgotten came with a suggestion and it slowly came up as the most natural thing —to close this area and open on the new one.
          There had been many people still left to convince, the die-hard fanaticism, but it had to be it. And for good measure, the involvement of other nations was asked.

          Sept. 4th, 2044, the ceremony opened with the display of what was left of Enola Gay that plane who had dropped the first atomic bomb, which had been almost forgotten in the West, but not completely in the East. And many nations came afterward, each carrying a symbol of what they wanted to recycle, to free themselves off.

          Then all of these heterogeneous elements entered the P-Machine, a distant relative of the Z-Machine which had been adapted and enhanced to produce aneutronic fusion at its core —highest temperatures of the universe thought unreachable by human means, harnessed to change the elements at will, and producing no harmful radiations as the atomic towers of the past.
          After a silent moment of unbearable expectation, melted gold started to flow out of the machine, making people wonder if that was all of it?

          Yes, it was merely it. Transmutation could be done, and it was not so impossible as people thought in the past. It meant free resources, recycling of garbage, abundance for all… at people’s grasp.
          What people had failed to recognize at the beginning, apart from the immense possibilities that were lying before them was that the machine could only transmute matter. And even if it could virtually free them of greed (because everything from gold to rocks was basically of the same value now), people’s own values were now made prominent, there was no camouflage left: no victims, no shortages, no lack of.

          Even five years after, it still meant huge challenges, but there was hope.

          #1058

          She had to hold her breath a few seconds more…
          Very few seconds…
          Another one… Oh by the Elder gods! what was this all about the time was stretching like an old rubber bag and she was about to burst out… sshitty lack of air!

          Calm down Phoebe. You can do it… WHERE IS THE SURFACE!?

          All of a sudden she realized she had lost her beautiful motorbike for good — one that took her years to find, and a few more years to insufflate its little particularities.

          Oh! MERDE!

          Another memory of her time at the Moulin Rouge…

          I lost the wand again…

          But that wand was a bit more special than her motorbike. Soaked with ancient magic from another dimension… A bit like that ring in that dimension… She shivered… her small intrusion in that one sufficed to disgust her… That giant spider… what was her name again? Well the name won’t help her surface and breathe… She remembered… she had stolen an egg from that spider… she had to get rid of it very soon afterward in a garbage dimension, but…

          What is this light… and where is the direction of the surface… it was like she was floating in no space, no gravity…
          That’s not gooood…
          I’m loosing…

          :fleuron:

          …conscious…

          :fleuron:

          …Nessy!

          A big flushing sound and she could breathe again… it was painful as the water in her lungs was looking for a way out.
          Coughing and aching… She had no idea of the boundaries of her bodies as she was as wet as the ocean…
          But her friend of old times had saved her! She never regretted to help her in her youth, during a trip to Scotland…
          The contact of the… cold skin?
          It was a bit too cold to be her friend… and it sounded quite metallic.

          — Oye! Therrre you arrrre!

          What was that again!? A submarine? A Russian accent?
          She couldn’t accommodate her vision, she was still too busy to breathe loudly.

          — Deaaarrrr Pheobe! The Barrrron told me you’d be therrrre.

          Pavel Orgeanov!!! Oh not him now! He was the last one she expected to meet.

          #1055

          As she was sinking to the bottom of the raging sea, Madame Chesterhope first felt like a boiling rage inside her, at all the thwarted attempts, all the unfulfilled promises.
          Not a solid thing on which to carve a few runes or symbols to get herself out, not a single living being to use at her profit, she was alone, at the mercy of gravity.
          Not unexpectedly, flashes of her life, of her many lives, flickered like incoherent pieces of an unfinished mosaic in her mind.

          When did it went wrong? she thought… When did she lose touch with her magic.
          Not the mundane magic, not the one she used for these parlor tricks devoid of meaning, like that beautiful flying motorbike which was drowning even faster than her… She was speaking of her inner magic, her sense of connection with the elements, with herself, Phoebe.

          What had become of the frail grey-haired lady the apparency of whom she was so fond of taking years ago?
          She was tempted to blame many things; the twenty-first century of her own dimension, for one, which had made her rough and tough, out of need perhaps, and perhaps a bit out of laziness. It was out of tiredness mostly, tiredness to have to constantly justify her appearance to others, that she had chosen a more convenient one; that of the crone with more rotund forms, of whom one would only expect austerity and strength.
          You can see where it had led you. she was thinking.

          A few more miles further down, and perhaps she would meet the mermaids, like the guy said in that Big Blue motion picture
          Maybe there was some purity left in her heart, that would make the inhabitants of the depths greet her wretched soul. Or perhaps they all died before her, from the pollution of this strange world mutating in pangs and spasms of a painful childbirth.

          And what would you do now, if you have the choice? that sweet voice, like that of a thin grey-haired mermaid, was it her own, testing herself?
          The quest for magical artifacts seemed so far away at this moment. It had begun a long time ago, led her to discover new other-dimensional places… new tricks, all of them for what? To gain control over the elements, the others, everything that could threaten her, force her to change. How ironic. That the fear of change made her change so drastically.
          She wanted to make peace with all of that. The mermaids weren’t coming, but her own voice was still there for her. Perhaps she could muster the strength. To continue…

          Mustering all her force, she forcibly expressed the most propelling “prout” she’d ever made. Of course, she’d been learning a few tricks from the legendary Fartiste back in her youth when she went to Paris to perform at the Moulin Rouge… Sweetest time of her life, she had to admit…

          :fleuron:

          On the surface of the waters, bubbles started to form.

          #1045

          Anita knew there was not much time, although there was the perfect amount of time.

          She had seen in her meditation a secret passageway, a cave under a pool and two people going there, guided by some inner knowledge. All she had to do was to convince her parents to go there with her.
          And perhaps they’ll be able to come back in their own time in 2038, and not in this past configuration thirty years too early.

          “Dad… Dad…”
          “Mmmm… What sweetie? Where are the others?”
          “Not far. Dad, wake up mum, and come with me, I’ll show you…”

          #1043
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Serendib Facility, Sri Lanka ~ (2036)

            Becky had been strangely shaken when she saw appearing in the last word cloud “dead becky” in huge letters.
            Surely she was not scared by death, as dead was only a different term for a different life, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to croak so young!

            Perhaps she died in childbirth; after all, it wouldn’t be so surprising because then the Serendib Facility looked very much like an eerie transitioning place. She tried to remember… When was the last time people had surprised her; done something unexpected, something she couldn’t have calculated. She thought Tina perhaps… Well, on the holographic visiophone, Becky had seen her with utmost details rolling her eyes, thrice even, at the mention of the ménage à trois… But of course,… that hardly counted as a surprise.

            She was starting to freak out. Gayesh! GAYESH! she called out running in the corridors of the facility barely managing to get a bewildered look from the nurses apparently now accustomed to her antics.

            A few moments later, she was comfortably seated in Gayesh’s office, with a warm cup of coffee in her hands. Aaaah, she loved that scent, the warmth that goes right to her heart. She felt comforted. At least if she was dead, the coffee seemed real enough.

            Gayesh had taken an undecipherable look once she had told him of her… premonition. She intuitively felt that there was something he wasn’t telling.

            She almost gurgled her last coffee sip uttering to the doctor “If I’m dead, then spit it now!”

            The laugh from Gayesh came as a surprise to her. “Ahaha,” she couldn’t help but notice, “a surprise !”

            Looking straight into her eyes, he told her “Well, perhaps your premonition has some deep meaning Becky dear, but you look quite alive to me, and with a constitution like yours, likely to live till 157 years old, if you ask me.”

            Becky was greatly relieved, even though she still had the hunch that the mysterious handsome doctor wasn’t telling her all the truth. “I think that idle life is making me insane… I need to see some real dusty rocky stuff; all those projections won’t do for the rest of my life. All the more since I’m supposed to live that long!”

            Gayesh was looking more and more preoccupied.

            “What is it, dear?” Becky asked, starting to feel the pangs of angst coming back at her. (she whispered to herself some of her favourite mantras: stand behind the short wall, breathe, breathe, yes, YES, it’s not your energy…)

            “You see Becky dear,” Gayesh answered after a minute of silence, “there is still some issue with the cloning process; until we find some advanced way of doing it, the clones need some of your cells regularly to be kept in good health, otherwise, I can’t really promise Becky Tooh (that was how the clone#2 was nicknamed) a life as good as yours. That’s why I’m a bit reluctant at letting you go on some errands…”

            Well, if she’d wanted some surprise to see that she was alive, there she got more than enough, Becky thought.

            #1040
            1da
            Participant

              7:33:59 AM 8-19-08 ∞1da Geolocation Time.

              days of sleeping slip by. the light on the peaks soft, golden in the cool dawn. a shiver. the water would be cold but thirst is a motivating factor. movement would mean warmth. birds flitting from branch to branch…

              stones to perch on. river jade at my finger tips. the babble of a quickly flowing stream. scooping with one hand to drink from a clear pool, the musky scent of cedar and low water.

              across the wide stream, a river. actually. no. the amount of water between a stream and a river. a young buck, head bent low also drinking. antlers. how are years marked again? two prongs on each side. is that two years after reaching mating age? or four. no matter. eyes latch across rapidly flowing water. we watch each other. both still, both quiet. both recognizing in each other another survival being of dreams.

              dream memory extending into long ago. no. longer than that. the rules to colonizing a planet. simple universal rules. one band of survival beings with a limited number of nuclear families from any survival being group that wishes to expand into livable planets. set down in one place – with nothing. no food. no implements. not even clothes. if they survive they colonize. if not. well. the universe is full of tried and failed experimentation. The pulse of all that is drawn into a black hole. drawn in and back out through tunnels of light that are trapped within the black hole…

              the fact that more than one form of survival being can attempt to colonize one planet at any given time is both an advantage and a disadvantage. they become resource for each other as well as competition – resource and competition, as is all that is within and upon the planet.

              still that cave, that First Cave. on the tip of the continent in the southern hemisphere… blue ocean view… a beginning that is long ago. how long ago? 160,000 planet years? 200,000 thousand planet years? late arrivals as we are, this is where our colonization is now. Digging to find those memories and what is left of that initial arrival…

              walking up this valley on the other side of a continent, an ocean away from First Cave… funny how time advances forward and backward in both directions – in all directions – and remains the same. This now is the same now as that now and remains the same in both directions as it passes around each of us.

              the sun trickling across the tips of trees lower and lower into the valley. another half an hour and it will be in my face.

              might as well eat breakfast while I walk. thimble berries, currents, oh! yarrow. i could make tea. – if I made fire. If I had fire… or i could make yarrow tea because i have sun. . .

              at peace within because i know i am returning to the High Portal Cave on the mountain, near the timberline. the central entrance, near the ancient pine. The safe harbor of the High Portal Cave, the entrance to a multitude of passageways, interconnecting chambers and stunning connecting points that open beyond this time and beyond this continent – before and after this continent. probably, through the right passage way opening beyond this planet. I don’t know that, it makes sense that it does. I believe I will find out in my memory or in my future. i remember some of these things and places. not all of them. i remember entering, finding the stone trough of water with the wooden drinking bowl on the damp ledge. i remember passageways that lead to incredible places and times. why return now? without knowing i know. this is the way it is because this is the way it will become.

              warm sun on my chest. warm from walking. birds, quiet as i approach, resume their constant foraging as i pass. along the shore the constant sound of the river stream like the white noise of the universe, beautiful and ever present so that if i am not mindful i no longer hear it.

              a walking stick. ok, a broken branch caught between boulders. still green enough to be strong, almost as thick as my forearm with little taper and altho it is not straight, it is a head taller than i am – perfect. a walking stick. a walking staff. i work it loose from the rocks. strange markings… the hand of an intelligent being – a gift then.

              do images become visible on these pages or only the thoughts and sights from within my mind, i wonder. i try to remember not to believe all that i think… if i wonder… then do i attempt to find out? yes, often enough, yes. and why is short hair exciting, new, a sign of adventuring? changes. oh. perhaps. or perhaps it’s a way of changing breath. I smile. I walk on.

              #2150

              In reply to: The Story So Far

              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                The Alienor Dimension, Georges and Salome

                Dory (in our current timeline/space reality) meets Georges in a cave in Madagascar during her trip.
                Georges doesn’t explain much, but we get the feeling that, though human, he’s a Traveler, crossing bridges through dimensional veils.
                Sanso, who we happen to meet at times, is supposedly another type of Traveler too, but apparently happier to cross earth-bound space veils rather than time or other-dimensional ones.

                Georges is closely linked to Salome. They are involved in the Alienor Dimension, another parallel universe, which was initially used as the set of the first story bits and in which they are involved at some historical points of importance.

                The Alienor dimension is composed (as we know now) of a central sun named Alienor, and a few planets.

                One of these planets is the Duane, which is a planet similar to Earth, except having easier access to magic, and having dragons, where the characters of Malvina, Arona, Leörmn, Irtak, Badul, Tomkin etc. are supposedly living. A map of parts of that planet was drawn somewhere in the archives.

                There are two major historical plots occurring; one in a time parallel to our own, with Malvina, Arona, Badul’s explorations etc. And another, occurring what we would call centuries earlier, with Lola and her dragon, and the Yellow Princess Atiara story-arc (see Araili’s notes).
                Somewhere in between, many years before Arona’s timeline, there is a subplot with Franiel, the monastery succession, the chalice and other magical artifacts. As far as we know, it ties to the other epochs thanks to Madame Chesterhope and Vincentius’ story.
                Madame Chesterhope is, we found out, known to Georges in his youth, when he first met Salome. Madame Chesterhope is originally from our dimension (Earth, around 1800s something?) but has learned how to travel and is thus able to move through dimensions, and has a few special powers, presumably thanks to artifacts she gathered along her trips.

                Another twin planet is the Murtuane, where there are giant eagles (counterparts of dragons), “mermaids”, zentauras (zebra-centaurs), green-skinned people, and purple beaches. This planet remains to be explored more in depth.

                The third planet, the Phreal, is rarely spoken of, as its vibration was changed before even the first epoch, and is no longer ‘seen’. Guardians, a special race of this Alienor Dimension with great mastery of the energy manipulation powers are involved within most of the historical changes, and in this one in particular.

                Malvina’s explorations are linked to those of her two “sisters”, each paired with a dragon. Initially she’s a healer, but recent developments have made her change locations a few times in space/time, and those alterations have inserted probabilities in the “past”. She has known Leonard, who is also a Traveler and who is linked to Franiel’s subplot.

                #1810

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Just a bit more on JIb’s previous comment regarding the natural vision improvement synch …

                  My optometrist left the area a few years ago and I have not had my eyes checked since then. A little while ago I decided I would like to find an optometrist who did not subscribe to the traditionally held views on the inevitable progression of eyesight, and would work with me to help me improve my vision naturally. I had no idea if there was anyone like that, have never heard of anyone in our area, however on impulse when I was in town one day wandered into an optometrist clinic and tentatively asked the receptionist. She straight away said they had an optometrist working there who was a “behavioural optometrist.”

                  Well, you will love this Jib – his name is Mr Eagle.

                  I have just had my appointment with him and he is delightfully wonderful. He has put me on to Jacob Lieberman to read up about as a first step.

                  #1007

                  Fabella had just entered the room. She was chatting noisily, as if someone would answer to her. The sound of her footsteps was playing strange ripples on the wooden floor which were mesmerizing to look at.

                  “Years ago, I’d have felt obliged to answer her” she was thinking, as she was hovering over her body looking at the freckled nurse.
                  “I’d felt obliged by some nonsensical politeness to give her the impression that I was, somewhat, paying attention to her as a person —if not to her chatter.”
                  She laughed wholeheartedly.

                  “Oh, you’re smiling Madam, but that ain’t the whole thing, you know! Would you imagine that Miss Elena, after such an outcry would have become wiser, but no…”

                  The voice was continuing an endless litany of gossips.
                  It was obvious that the nurse wasn’t trying to get any answer, much less a conversation from the old body she was giving her daily injection to, she had found out. All the more since that body was so weak and talking was taking more energy than she was willing to give to this action. It was so much more exhilarating to play out of it.
                  She was proud of herself, having come to a place not only to feel accepting of that bodily condition that had left her riveted to her chair and bed at an early age, but more so, to feel grateful for it.

                  The first steps had been the most difficult: a whole new world so vast it was feeling as wide as a crocodile’s mouth menacing to engulf her. But like the crocodile’s mouth, it was easier to shut it close than one would think, and she had found out that she would snap back to her body each time she was distressed. Quite the opposite of what an adventurous mind like hers would endeavour to conquer. She had no care for her dying body, not with this new-found freedom.
                  Perhaps it was a mere springboard for her to get accustomed to death. That’s what her brother had told her once. But he was so fully soaking in religious beliefs that she didn’t know how to handle that he had merely said to her as a gift.
                  All that was important was the exploration, which was real to her. And it was, not only to her, but to others too.

                  For instance, she was now walking, still around Fabella, observing the interplay of the nurse’s energy field with the other people around her, even though Fabella had finished dealing with her minutes ago.
                  In fact, she knew more about Fabella than she could have learned in years of monologues with her. Things like that Ricardo wasn’t the caring guy he was pretending to be with her. But then, she didn’t know how to tell her (and if she had even the right to). She had the feeling that perhaps Ricardo and Fabella’s stories were just distractions that she had found to limit herself in the familiar of her little explorations.
                  There was so much more that she could do, she could feel it. There were no boundaries to it.
                  She could will herself to be in any place, unnoticed by most.

                  Perhaps she could try a “jump” to another location. Trusting that she would come back, as she always had. If if she wouldn’t… well, that could well mean an improvement after all.
                  What about something easy? Like some uncharted paradisaical island in the Pacific…

                  #994

                  Hopefully, Al was not one to judge a work by the time it takes to produce.
                  Actually, he was remembering a tale he’s been telling Sam no so long ago, about a Chinese painter who took years of training to be able to execute a painting in a single most perfect stroke. Only thing was that the Prince who had ordered him to paint this was offended when he saw him arrive empty-handed and drawing on the spot in what seemed the most easy, flowing movement that single painting, while he had been provided time and resources to the painter for so long. He had him executed, only for his servants to discover later that the painter’s house was full of tons of sketches.
                  It is all a work of art, dear Tina

                  Now, I get that you have found your favourite entries.
                  Yes, entry number 2 .
                  Okay
                  Then, the one where Fiona changes her name to Finn, that has to be a significant one; that is 151
                  Fine
                  And 223 , when Arona gets given Yikesy

                  Al pondered for a moment…

                  #991
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Now, Dear Tina Prout (and he said this last bit a bit more firmly, hoping Tina would finally decide to change her name back to her maiden’s name Flove, which was hers before she married that Prout guy who had left her years ago, miserable and forlorn, but not without resources and quite a temperament to boot) You know, this is all about the cycle of transformations, and I’m taking great pleasure in observing the flow of events…

                    #987
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Interesting that we are heading to the 888 th comment in the play, and it will soon be August the 8 th with a third eight in the year number…
                      Will we make it in time though? Get around that circle of eights? the thought left him pondering.

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