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Mention of myopic and fishnets in the story, the day before I went on the laser eye surgery; on the metro, sitting right in front of us, a lady (speaking in English), with red glasses, a green and red flower patterned dress, and lime fishnets…
Peackle Handlebut wasn’t really that old hag of a lady she projected the appearance of, but she preferred to test the sincerity of people through this rather crude means.
In fact, she wasn’t a lady or a human at all. She was an E’elim, as they called their race when they had use for words. Their true form wasn’t really physical, and their existence was mostly ignored — a fact that was not a small feat, for even the ancient race of the Guardians mostly didn’t know of them at the time when they were in the system of Alienor.
In fact, their consciousness was quite different from the rest of the races, and in many ways, it was one of the most ancient one, having been present for countless ages.
They’d known the times of the appearance of the third moon around Duane.
They had even witnessed the emergence of that third planet, which is now mostly forgotten, but was then called B’si before it was called Phreal by the Guardians.
And they were there at the time of the separation of the Great Panye into the twin planets now known as Duane and Murtuane.The E’elims where riders of the elements; usually only one of the six elements from which everything stemmed: airs, earths, woods, flames, waters, and forgotten (or spirit).
Learning to ride dragons was something new for Peackle, as they were powerful blends of the purest forms of these elements, and she was wanting to take the risk of revealing herself to have that experience…New Venice, October 2117
Now, where were we? Midora suddenly felt that the need for an agenda was called for. Spread out in front of her were a few collages and some balls of energy from all the links and connections she had found in the stories of her ancestors and gathered so far.
Since her fathers Oscar and Bart had adopted the twins Hari and Jacq, her usually tidy room had been a mess. Fortunately, the adoption was almost complete, and in a mere week, the twins would then be able to choose another family, which they made clear they intended to do. She felt so appreciative that adoption was no longer bound by traditional laws of responsibility of the parents and ridden by culpability; instead, it was a healthier cooperation between the parents and children, and children were free to go with other families if they felt the desire for a different experience.
When they’d adopted Hari and Jacq, Bart and Oscar had wanted for a continuation of the experience of bringing up children, which they did not have for a long time with Midora, as she was quite independent from an early age. And in truth, Jacq and Hari were very interactive and playful, and to be perfectly honest, quite a handful; in a few weeks, the apartment would surely seem deserted and empty.So, during that time, Midora’s researches on the stories had been put to a halt, and a lots of her energy balls which were usually neatly ordered on her lightboard were now merged for some, changed of forms for others… all thanks to her half-bros. She barely knew were to start to get a better view of it now.
Let me see… there were a few threads going on there, and all we need is untangle some of them…
She’d had fun reconnecting with the “Island of Dr Transvestite” theme, but now she found out, her favorite characters Shar and Glor, were now disembodied, stranded in transition, and perhaps waiting to be reborn to a nine-titted alien in the Worseversity after failed attempts of channeling. So far, no signs of developments for them though.
As far as the Ooh-dimension was concerned, the shift of Vowellness was probably complete, and she couldn’t find anything new being published by Ms Tattler in all now probable directions she was looking into. She was of course ignoring the disrupted echoes from the Jumbled Eights thread, which were probably the brainstorming board of ideas of the writer, which she had the greatest difficulty to follow (she wondered if even the writer could).
Her own thread and the details of the history of the Wrick family was always sketchy and full of holes; she’d attempted at learning more about the elusive Becky , but she kept blinking in and out of continuity, too quickly for her to follow her anywhere in her explorations.
Oh, and the Alienor dimension was still going on, though most of its development wasn’t yet showing up. What had happened of Arona, Franiel, Irtak’s father, the gripshawk? And now that Malvina was gone too… She’d found Mrs Chesterhope after her strange amnesiac shapeshifting accident however; and that was encouraging.
So strange, all of these characters are so alive, she thought fondly, and yet none of them seem motivated enough to project themselves out with force and steadiness into her energy balls which still had a sort of blurriness and haphazardness to them.
She made the intent to project more energy in the direction of stabilizing the currents of the strands of stories, and the energy balls’ colors started to shimmer lightly. That was certainly the way to go. Which one would be the most alluring to explore and follow?
It was not before Leörmn suggested at Irtak the overlooked possibility that Irtak seriously considered the option.
After all, the batty toothless woman who had come forth (almost in jest it had seemed at first) wasn’t really an obvious choice to make a dragon rider of the twin Heckle and Jeckle.Well, who was he to judge anyway? He was even starting to find the idea less and less incongruous. She would perhaps make for a good companion.
As they said, dragon breeders may just be failed dragon riders, but Irtak wasn’t sure that it was close to the truth, or any truth for that matter.As his choice was finally made, he took a carrier fincheon from a cage smelling of bird’s droppings and started to write on a piece of torn and pissy parchment with a crow’s feather to Lady Peackle Handlebut.
Leörmn was growing tired of spawning eggs and offspring. He decided for an early retirement in the Cave of Probable Wonders.
Who the bloody hell is Becky Huh? Well, the same I’ve been waiting for AGES well after her long absence. Poor thing seemed to think it was he, Sanso.
Search for Ted got the head of Becky.
Twilight in your mind. wig is just great Bekkie ; a variation of a variation of you look ; terrible!
Nurse insisted in more intimate moments of course.
After five years of training of the dragon twins, Irtak was to do for the first time an act that would finally make him not just a dragon rider, but a dragon breeder in his own right. He had to part ways with them.
It was harder than he’d expected. He knew that if he wanted to bring more dragons into the great stream of the Duane’s life, he couldn’t only focus on the two buoyant twins. It’d taken them that long to manage channeling the intense energy of the two, and balancing their thirst of discovery with patience and adequacy of action.
Parting now was almost heart-breaking for him, even though the dragons had been reassuring they were only longing for new adventures with new companionship.In fact, they were so longing that they would have almost gone with any stranger, or perhaps even just on their own —reluctant as they were to admit they also greatly enjoyed human’s company. However, Irtak wanted to make sure they would be taken care of by not just anybody; as powerful as dragons were, the two were almost innocent and very young for that race, and they would greatly benefit from some wise tutelage.
Now that Malvina had left the cave, he didn’t know who to turn to for advice, and was feeling a bit forlorn, though his glubolin was still working fine. He’d been thinking about it for quite some time, and realized that some travel would really do him good, so he finally began packing.
The Southern Shores of Lan’ork would make a great destination to find a proper owner for the twins, and an interesting starting point for new adventures.the voice was feeling liquid. Leörmn wouldn’t change the exit of that egg.
Since many of his abilities were quite perfect the only difficulty was to follow any egg.
And the egg was in another one from which the girl drifted off to sleep, despite the sounds of the camels, and then it turned into one of those heart shape!
“BUGGER THIS” Dory was singing ‘Bugger this’ to Arona rolling around laughing.
Moments later, after a good shower, Sam and Tina moaned, giggled, suddenly couldn’t get much wetter.
Arona, while she was free as a wing said she was thoroughly disliking it, though she wasn’t really sure if she was.
Vincentius was confident she would be alright.
#36 Hells Bells
Arona had some dragon into the darkness, she was off the edge.Found out by Tracy after I sent her that article about a lost book by Carl G. Jung
Random daily group story quote:
“What is that?” she asks. “It doesn’t come from The Book, does it?”
“Well, our best team of psychic archaeologists just got it retrieved from purported old discarded bits in the Crypt.”
“of…? You mean… apocryphal part of The Book? Are you serious?”
“Quite possible, you see. Do you know what’s the ancient meaning behind that word ‘apocryphal’?”
“You tell me.”
“‘those having been hidden away’… But the intricacy of this reality makes it possible for us, in the future of The Book, to re-insert it directly into the past.”
“So they’re no longer ‘apocryphal’…”
“You could look them up actually, and perhaps you’ll find even the part where they’re speaking about us finding it even…”Months coincidence party ladies story far continuous
somewhere mention blue matter beginning
previous particular interesting sleep weeks easier
whatever strange lovely“Ahaha, dear Ann is really acting funny since her latest plastic surgery… I wonder if her new implants weren’t taken from some part of her head…”
“How unusually snarky of you, dear” (the author of previous comment will of course remain unnamed for fear of reprisal)
Harvey pondered for a moment “Well, that’s not at all a silly question, I don’t know really how we’ve become best friends… I think it was after you picked up a sodden mandarin on that shelf and I told you about the strong déjà vu of that scene”
“Really? I thought it was after we met during that Magritte’s exhibit?”
“Well, who cares really, I think we already knew each other from somewhen before.”
“Oh look at that now…”
“What?”
“The cat’s been throwing up a big spaghetti noodle of half-digested croquettes”
“That’s what all this ‘heck heck’ sound was all about then… Is it heart-shaped… at least?”
“Not quite… pfft, though it almost spelled out ‘ODD’, if you ask me”
Harvey wasn’t really annoyed nor offended that Ann couldn’t remember him each and every time they met. In fact, it was quite funny, that her version of Harvey was different every time.
He wasn’t bound to be the same old Harvey as with anybody else.Nonetheless, he wished Ann would express more of her own perception of the Harvey she had in front of her eyes, instead of moaning she couldn’t or should remember anything. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time they would then all conspire to make a stretch (sometimes to the verge of rupture) in the fabric of the story to make it all fit.
And which Harvey and Ann were they? Were they only bound to be one ‘other’, without any substance safe for the fact that they were probable versions of a Prime Ann, and a Prime Harvey in the First Universal Comments Kosher (or kookish?) dimension? The mere thought of it was rather depressing to this probable Harvey.
With all this probable purée, it was as if everything wasn’t really occurring anywhere else but in some even less probable writer’s head… (he couldn’t help to wonder too how this snippet would be interpreted in the near future when it would only be a fragment of a random quote itself…)
ROFL as seen today
Yurick was wondering if this incursion into the meanders of the stories during business hours may take its toll on his remarkable efficiency… just when the story starts to be on a new roll…
So far, efficiency is good.
“Mmm, they can use whatever politically correct word to say Ann isn’t having a serious case of Dissociative Identity Disorder, but frankly her speaking to herself would be really worrisome were it not for that all that Shifting around.” Growdon was discussing with Franny.
“Yes,” she nodded with a soft and contagious smile, “doesn’t it look like she denies herself her physicality by burrowing inside the meanders of her short-span attention so deeply and carelessly?”
… “Oh,” she added swiftly covering her fine lips painted purple with her long fingers, seeing the look on Growdon’s face “I’m not suggesting that… No, don’t be silly”Growdon was finding Franny so delicately considerate about their friend.
He gave the thought a time to sift through his perceptive mind, while looking at the red roses of Geroges and Franny’s store, and had to come to the same conclusion. It definitely looked like Ann was always avoiding to flesh out her DID characters, perhaps out of fear of the dreaded lack of continuity or palatable tangible proof (that as much dreaded “P” word) of the reality of her visions. Truth be told, he and Franny and Geroges were finding her bouts of imagination quite fantastic on their own, they didn’t really need any proof whatsoever. But sincerely they all needed to get a grip!
“Sincerely Bodry,” Walter was saying to Bodry, Becky’s brother, a high-ranking member of the Sisterhood, “I think the issue is not really about Continuity, it’s more about Expansion.”
Bodry frowned as if perplexed beyond mesure by the words of the wise man.
“Don’t be ludicrous” he said “that would be tantamount to saying Lavender the cleaning lady would look divine even if sporting a mohawk, were it pink notwithstanding.”
“Actually, I daresay she would. But let us not sway off the subject. You see, by no manner is it an issue whether things are continuous or not —and I know it’s almost blasphemous to say that— but the crux of the matter lays in the measure with which things are expanded and linked together.”
“Mmm, I’m afraid an expansion of the Sisterhood of Continuous Universal Meditation on the world would not be such a bad thing, even if we would have probably to merge with the Sisterhood of Human Infinite Technology.”Walter was in fact speaking of things far more metaphysical, and was hinting at the fact that the writer wasn’t taking good care enough of resolving some of the blatant or lingering contradiction by taking the time to properly express and connect to the world the writer was writing (some would say, but not the writer, babbling and raving) about.
All of these of course were once again lost to the poor soul he was talking to.Obviously, when Ann had taken those Wows of Continuity within the hoity-toity (so said the writer) Sisterhood of Continuous Universal Meditation, it had been one of those flimsy whims which were probably only a clever (so she thought) way of putting her friend’s continual fretting at ease.
But more secretely, she’d joined the Sisterhood as a way to be closer to the closeted founder… Walter Crumble.
