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  • in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1148
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      The whole week had been flying over his heads. Last Sunday, they had come back with Sam from their trip on the Floridisles, and though his body was a bit aching from the trip on the still young flight company of Yurailli Airlines, Al’s head was still swimming in the clear blue waters with the dolphins and sea dragons a soft music running in his head like a young unworried boy on the shore.

      The return to New Venice was such a difference in energy that it took him a shocking cold to re-adapt. Not that he couldn’t have done without the cold, but he had chosen to allow it, for many reasons. For one, it was very self-centering, and also the more he allowed it, contrary to what people would think, the quicker it healed.

      Lots of things had happened in New Venice during their little adventure in the South, and there was lots to do to keep the pace. So much difference with the peaceful silent world of the cetaceans… Not even much time to update the Reality Play which almost had gone into hibernating mode, had it not been Becky’s occasional funny entries and syncs.

      Nevertheless, Al could feel that the peace of the dolphins and sea dragons had touched him on more than just the surface level. For once, he wasn’t even worried about Tina now; he could feel her discrete but present energy was strong, even though she was going onto a difficult transitional path of her own.

      in reply to: Synchronicity #1823
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Among the tons of syncs during our trip, this one was pretty funny:
        In the 777 plane from NY to Paris, in the advertisement channel of the airline company, there was this (believe it or not) http://watermelon.org (ref.)

        in reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud #2028
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Indeed Jib, as usual, as usual:

          Follow THE call OF THE WILDE,
          THAT WHICH especially ASK YOU TO hold STILL AT home.
          YOU KNOW, IT DOESN’T TAKE lots OF walking
          TO let YOUR arms HAVE SOME EXERCISING:
          SOME WOULD SAYperhaps”;
          BUT NO NEED TO SAY “I knew THAT!”

          LET’S EXPLORE A stone idea:
          OF dragons starting watermelons story, flying AROUND
          AND smiling, DIVING IN THE flove

          in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1141
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Al was greatly pleased to see that the telepathic communication between themselves was going better by the day.

            With Becky in her plane to Long Pong talking to Tina in New Venice, while he and Sam were listening on their way to the dolphins ranch of their friends Marfisa and Rogero in the Floridisles

            … what a great pleasing way it was, to spend the time of the trip!

            in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1138

            Phlynn the gamekeeper while seducing Lady Theresa Eagleston was secretly using the Potting Shed to made secret experiments on watermelons.
            So far, he had managed to create a very promising hybrid variety crossed with carnivorous plants brought by Hector from his exotic trips.
            The productivity of the plants was far better, and he was making a damn fine liquor from the sweet nectar, but he had to hunt more game to feed the little beast…

            He hoped T’eggy wouldn’t be too curious about the strange jolts and jerks behind the door. Or he would have to roger that… err, to remedy this delicate situation.

            in reply to: Pictures Pool #1328
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster
              in reply to: Synchronicity #1821
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Funny, my mother sent me a slideshow of paintings from Iranian painter Iman Maleki
                Mmm :-? E-man Maliki?

                in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1135

                — “Dory?”
                — “What, hon’?” a distracted Dory answered to young Becky
                — “You’d better remove the magnets from the iron, or you’ll ruin another one…”
                — “What are you talking about?!” Dory was perplexed, trying to find her way through the airport to Gate 57-¾, but only to find nothing but benches in between Gate 57 and 58.
                — “Oh, never mind… It’s only a dream and you probably won’t remember it anyway.”

                “There!” the suspicious bag lady of the Heathrow terminal had reappeared briefly just for Dory to spot her entering the restrooms.
                Becky was already rolling the heavy bumper-stickers patched suitcase to follow her without question.

                — “But why are you taking the suitcase to go to the bathroom, Beck’?”
                — “What are you talking about Dory!” Becky was sometimes losing patience. “Can’t you see it’s the entrance for Gate 57-¾?!”
                — “Uh?” A moment of clueless mystery on Dory’s face. “Oh…” Another mini-black hole on her face.

                “Oh. Okay then. Let’s go…”

                If there was something that her exotic life had taught Dory, it was to never question the moment. If the circumstances are here, if the impulse is there, then go for it. Explanations will follow. And in case they don’t, make them up as you roll and rock!

                Becky meanwhile was rather surprised at how people, even her own step-mother, as tuned in ghostly stuff as she was, most of the time failed to see the things for what they really are. And if these big painted letters on the door “GATE 57 ¾” weren’t obvious enough, and people preferred to interpret them as restrooms, then… what else could be done? She sighed.
                Later on, she would learn that it was a common, well documented trait in human consciousness; that people were sometimes psychologically (but not physically) blind to stuff outside of their current focus of attention, or simply blind to things too far off their beliefs; in other terms, it was a matter of energy reconfiguration. As long as it worked…

                “Oh look at that… Yukailli Airlines counter is here! What bloody stupid idea to put a closet door at the entrance…”

                After having made the departure arrangements at the counter, Dory came back to Becky who was looking outside at the planes.

                — “Ain’t them beautiful?”
                — “Yeah, and I suppose you’re seeing planes, aren’t you?”
                — “Err, yes of course, what else, silly… Though now you ask me, they seem a bit weird… foggy or something”.

                In fact, what Becky was seeing wasn’t conventional planes. It was more like “fly-boats”. Some sorts of hybrid ships made to fly with huge wings transparent and shiny like those of flies.

                — “I hope they have crunchy coleslaw for meal, I’m starving” a contented and tired Dory said, when she collapsed into the comfortable seats.

                in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1134

                Georges and Salome’s journal

                From Salome’s account of her introduction to the Turmak People (Part 1)

                Georges being involved more and more within the Quorum of Jokans, it has enabled me, if only by proxy, to get more acquainted with the personality of each of them.
                The Guardians are an ancient and very distinctive race which is, in many aspects, surprisingly similar to our Dream Walkers. One of these points of similarity is their aptitude at morphing their environment, and altering much of the physical properties of it within their dimension of operation.
                I suspect that, similarly to our Dream Walkers being responsible for the creation of physical focus as we currently experiment it in our Earth dimension, they are also for a great part responsible for the creation of many a species in the neighbouring noospheres —note that I shall occasionally use “Noosphere” as a word more apt to convey certain notions rather than the word “planet” which is loaded with certain beliefs.

                I will not enter into the social details of the race of the Guardians in this note, as it would be too long for this place, and Georges will probably explain it in more details later.
                However, I shall use this as an opportunity to introduce a character who soon became a close ally in our explorations of this universe.
                As a matter of fact, I came as a surprise to both of us when she started to pierce through Georges disguise, flawless as it may have been. We found out that they shared a connection which probably was the cause for their allowance of connection through the veils of their disguises in time and space.
                A rather elegant member of the Quorum of Twelve, Cil —as she is named, pronounced See’l — intuitively found out that we were not really who we claimed to be, especially that we were not from her known universe at all. But what could have been a difficult situation turned out for the best, as she was equally eager to discover about us, as we were about her people and universe.

                The recent reports of uprisings of the Zentauras was the matter which was seriously discussed, and it was decided as a favour from Noraam to Cil to allow her to go for an investigation on the Murtuane, to find out the reasons for this matter, if not the culprits among their kin.
                Needless to say that I was very much enthusiastic at the idea of having a guide to explain me more on the relationships at play…

                (Part 2)

                in reply to: Pictures Pool #1327
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Interesting Flove, I learned something today :)

                  in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1133
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    After her publisher sent her back the manuscript of her last noovel with a few annotations, Elizabeth Tattler started to question whether she was blinking into the Eirth dimension.

                    “Look at that!” she said, watching at all the circled sentences… “good greif, my freinds…” then a few paragraphs later “the cheif of the oodlings”… “her neice…” Something was wroong with her.

                    Was she ODding or what?

                    Bah, if her publisher wasn’t happy, there still remained Barash who was never afraid to publish a few “od-oddities” (other-dimensional oddities)…

                    “Free rein on the reindoors!” She shouted in her office.

                    in reply to: Pictures Pool #1324
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Some recent sketches:

                      The Guardians

                      :fleuron:

                      Delegation on the Kandulim

                      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1128

                      When Balbina woke up from that which had been her longest and strangest projection out of her body ever, all the memories of this fantastic adventure were oddly still fresh and crystal clear in her mind.

                      She doubted that it may have been as real as she has perceived it to be; but the funny rabbit, before they all entered the long dark tunnel, had winked at her and told her there would be signs for her.

                      Outside the window, the sunlight was starting to show on the Cordillera de la Costa, the nearby mountains.
                      She was feeling strangely rejuvenated by this unexpected night spent in far-away travels, and it was almost as if her whole body was feeling better than it ever was.
                      But of course, it was more of the same. Fabella, the nurse would soon enter and great her with a…

                      “Did Madam sleep well?”
                      “Quite, yes”… Her voice was quivering. Hardly the youthful voice she had during her projections out of the body.

                      So, there she was again, in that old people house, and no way out of this mis…

                      “What?!” she made the nurse busy cleaning her instruments repeat —to which she was far too pleased to comply.
                      “Yes, Madam, your son phoned this morning and told he would come for you…”

                      Her son? That was most unexpected.

                      What did the rabbit said already? Help would come from the most unexpected corners… Well, she had almost forgotten that this corner still existed!

                      “Did he say something else?”
                      “Oh, I’m not really allowed to tell, M’am…”
                      “But of course, you can’t really resist (little goose)” simpered the old wincing lady in a whisper to herself.
                      Fabella was indeed continuing, unstoppable “… but he seems to consider it’s too expensive to have you here, and would love to have you home with him”

                      Well, of course, you can’t really expect him to be so generous for no reason Balbina was thinking… But anything would probably be better than this old fools’ home. Even her son’s home.

                      Besides, it was located outside Caracas, near the mountains… And if the funny rabbit’s directions were correct, it was very, very close from where her hosts (provided they existed of course) were to re-emerge.

                      She’d never imagined that falling into the abyss of sweet madness would be so exciting.

                      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1127

                      It may have been the sudden change of environment, but Leörmn had great difficulty at staying focused.
                      By staying focused, he meant more than just focusing his attention and thoughts. Actually, not much more, as nothing more than his thoughts and his attention were creating of everything —his body included. When he failed to focus as he was now, usually he simply started to disappear from other’s awareness, even though he could be aware that he was still present in their proximity. For most of his activity was happening in the Unseen, and his body was unnecessary for him to manipulate that environment.

                      The twin dragons, Heckle and Jeckle were equally disturbed, but to a lesser extent, perhaps because their communicating together made their de-focusing less of a concern.

                      The place where they had been guided to was really unusual. Unusual for dragons at least. Even possibly hostile.

                      It was like crossing that door had made them turn the physical reality inside-out, and though it was very similar on the surface, the exterior was significantly different.

                      Apart from the twins, Leörmn was feeling energies, strong energies focused nearby. They were possibly as strong as dragons’ energies, though their configuration was unfamiliar.
                      Where were they? What was this place?

                      Leörmn was feeling so powerful undercurrents that it was very disturbing. In his discomfort, he tried to reach for a familiar energy.

                      :fleuron:

                      In the pool, Salome was feeling the disturbance, as it was already making the cave wobble slightly ever since Leörmn had taken off.

                      Georges was having fun shape-shifting his skin to get more dolphin-like slickness, and was trying to bring her into his games, but she was caught by the demanding feeling and couldn’t concentrate on the game.

                      She made a foam bubble around herself to lift her up above the surface of the water. “There… I’ve always felt better in the air.” As a matter of fact, be it only the slight gain of altitude, but her thoughts felt clearer already.

                      “Oh, my… They are on the Murtuane… Georges, you knew that?!”

                      Georges was having too much fun to actually physically answer, but Salome knew he was more than vaguely aware of that.

                      She went deeper into herself, trying to see what was the issue… As far as she knew, the Murtuane was very closely tied to the Duane, and actions made into one of the planet had repercussions onto the other. They were close counterparts for each element, and perhaps it was the drawing closer of these which had created an imbalance of some kind.
                      “Yes…” she smiled. She was seeing how it could be made easier.

                      She sent to Leörmn the clearest picture she could make, then popped her foam bubble, to gracefully dive into the pool, having changed her skin to that of a black and white killer whale.

                      :fleuron:

                      “Thank the Elder Gods,” Leörmn thought, as he just received the warm familiar energy of Salome from deep inside himself.

                      So that was it… He had to find his counterparting Nirgual, and merge with her for the duration of their little excursion here.
                      N’meôrl was the name. Salome had met her already a long time ago. She was a brilliant shade of abrigot (some orange smooth fruit).

                      It would be quite easy actually. Like the Dragons, Nirguals were summoned by their true name, no matter the distance.
                      Blessed be Salome…

                      Popping back into focus, Leörmn pronounced loudly “N’meôrl, I hereby summon thy!

                      When the huge bird appeared all the others who had started to assail the dragon with question were startled.

                      Contrary to all appearances, Leörmn was not a dragon of many words, so very few needed to be actually exchanged. The two creatures both knew what had to be done to preserve the balance. And even if they had not known, the pressure on their energy fields was so intense that the merging was just like two magnets drawing closer naturally.

                      And One again they were.

                      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1126

                      When the plane to Long Pong finally took off, Becky (and Becky, and Dory) got the strangest feeling of déjà vu.

                      in reply to: Synchronicity #1820
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        And pool in Japanese is “ike” (/ee-kay/) 池 :)

                        Loops and hoops in pool, lightened up by poohs

                        in reply to: Synchronicity #1818
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          Interestingly, the random quote today was about Yikesy and after Jib made his comment reintroducing the little baby Ugling after quite some time without news, I found out this newsline in Yahoo about tropical storm Ike, in Florida Keys…

                          And watching a StarWars blooper on youtube to show Jib for lack of better explanations, there was a “Marshall Hiroshima” in the credits… Synchs with Tracy and her friend (she’ll have to tell it if you want more details, but anyway, that’s another sync)

                          in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1120

                          Sometimes I wonder… said Yurick as he watched the strange headline in the news:

                          Ike set to bypass Keys

                          in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #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?

                            in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1116

                            “What a trickster that darn dragon” mumbled Arona, when she saw the door close behind her.

                            “I hope Vincentius will take good care of little Yikesy, and Mandrake of Buckberry…”

                          Viewing 20 replies - 1,281 through 1,300 (of 1,722 total)