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  • in reply to: Synchronicity #1811
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      And after I read your comment, dear Flove, here what the cloud was saying:

      clear mind large birds making finally images distance

      :bounce:

      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1027

      She was the first to notice.

      First there was a loud bang, that she perceived as a shock wave rippling all around.

      Then, she felt a strange flabby thing with bat arms fall into the ocean, while the other energy was coming their ways. “Wow,” she couldn’t help but think; “they’re having unusual nightly activities around for such a small isolated island.”

      The dog resting by the fire got alerted then, and tried to wake up the others. But apparently, they seemed oblivious to it.

      Then, something stranger happened. The small white rabbit started to talk, as if it had been aware all along.
      “It’ll take a while for him to see you again Kay, just don’t yap like a silly dog… Besides, you’ll disturb our guests”
      “Guests?” the dog answered back.

      The moment after, the rabbit had disappeared from the girl’s lap, and was standing between her and the dog.
      “Welcome, Balbina”, he told her.

      “How do you know my name?” she was aghast, unable to say if it was for the talking rabbit, or for the fact it knew her name.
      Unperturbed, it continued “It’s a busy night. There are lots of things happening, and we hope you’ll stick around. It may be helpful for our friends here.”
      “Er… why not… I mean, yes, sure. And you are?”
      “Yuki, at your service. I’m not really a rabbit of course, but that form is convenient”
      “And cute too…” she said tentatively
      “Thank you”

      Balbina had never thought a rabbit could blush, but she would have bet it was the closest thing to a blushing rabbit she had just witnessed.

      “Sorry to interrupt you,” Kay said, but who are the other guests?

      a shrilling voice came as an answer OOOOooohh a campfire! How cuty pooh! Wait till Sha and Glo see that, we could have some roasted marshmallows and pork chops! I’m feeling soooo hungry…”

      “Great… So much for our little secret expedition,” Claude sighed as he woke up.

      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1026

      The GPS was indicating that she was getting closer every minute. She was at less than 8 minutes as the crow flies from the island.
      She had to make a small detour to avoid the now less powerful but still dangerous cyclone Ycart, but all was under control.
      The night had fallen upon her like a bird of prey, and cloaked in the velvety shadows, she smiled, baring her teeth full of squashed mosquitoes.

      All absorbed by the blinking lights of the GPS, and her head full of the roar of the wind and the raging sea, she sadly didn’t notice the hydroplane coming from her left at full speed.
      The shock was brutal, and Madam Chesterhope got ejected from her motorbike which went with her alongside, spiraling down until crashed into the ocean.

      WHAT THE…!”

      :fleuron:

      We hit something! the distraught pilot shouted to Mahiliki.
      Drawing his knife again, thinking of how close he was now to dear sweet Vera, he shouted back “any damage? how close are we now?”
      “Seems OK, but what about the thing we hit?”
      “Bugger it! Move!”

      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1018

      :bunny_head: :y_orly: :cat_happy: :goat:
      :yahoo_party:

      888 th comment
      :weather-clear: :heart: 8/8/8 @ 8:08 on the international date line :heart: :weather-clear: :world:

      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1016

      “Wow, with all that babbling, the gap is closing…”
      “How long now?”
      “Five hours till it’s 8:08 on the international date line…”

      “Just hope we won’t get blank for the last comment, after all that training…” ;))

      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1013

      Ahaha, don’t you think our dear Finn will die of exhaustion after 400+ pages of pooh-reading? Yurick said mischievously to Dory.
      Well, she isn’t the one who’ll have to make the cross-referencing system Dory answered.

      “Good point” Yurick was thinking…
      “Let’s just not forget it would be for the fun of the adventure. Nothing else, no other constraint…”
      “And in any case, nothing will happen before the Circle of Eights is crossed: 888 th comment on the 8 th of August 2008”
      :face-grin:

      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1012

      Elizabeth just had a brilliant idea actually.
      Why not just print her rumbled heap of scattered notes… just as it is. In four volumes if needed.

      What Lemone was saying in his Words of Comfort for the Descended already?

      It’s not the writer’s job to piece the stuff life is made of together, it’s the job of the reader.

      “Bloody good point,” she’d be keoon saying.
      Trust the reader to take what they want, read on impulse… Whatever or not… She had a feeling that in the future when people are reading her stuff, that it will make more sense to them than to current day average readers.
      She was so leading-edge.

      Of course, her editor would make a fuss, but he would have no other choice than recognize her genioos.

      How exciting it all was.

      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1011

      A Pacific island then… she thought

      Let’s move there…
      She could feel her ghost body hover, like a feather sucked into a whirlwind.
      She had to be confident she’ll snap back right at her lying body when she’ll be over with the trip.
      Trust that everything will be okay. As it always were. Will always be.

      She could see the Earth from above… The Pacific Ocean, its huge vastness, delimited by coasts of lights.

      Oh, of course, she had not thought of that, but it was night there. She could see towns, concentrations of which were twinkling like shiny stars on a dark sky; but she didn’t want towns. Far too crowded, lots of energies that were maybe intoxicating at first, but she could feel she would be worn out in a second.
      For, as she traveled in spirit, she had access to so much more information than people usually get with their physical senses alone,… it was hard to explain.

      There… in that dark patch, when she moves closer, she can feel the immensity of the ocean surrounding everywhere. She moves closer to that long island that must be New Zealand, because she doesn’t want to be far from any sort of indication of her location. Keeping an eye on this, she spots something which isn’t a city light. It’s dancing, like a fire.
      How can she spot a fire at that distance is beyond her understanding, but she has learned not to question, and act upon her impulses.

      She wills herself at the fire.

      Waves, the peaceful sound of the waves.

      Around the fire, she can see a dog, crouched near a thoughtful man; there’s a young girl too, with a little white rabbit in her lap. The girl’s parents are resting in a hug, and a man with a strange energy configuration, the like of which she hasn’t seen, is closing the circle.

      What a bunch of interesting people…

      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1010

      She was squatting on the sand beach, near the now calm ocean. The light was so dim that she barely could see the devastation, shards of coconut and palm trees spread on the shore, but the sound of the ocean was soothing.

      Aaah she had hold that pee for too long.

      “MAaaAVIS!” That suave authoritative voice must have been Sha’s.
      “COooOMING!” Tsk. One can’t have a pee alone…

      While she was readjusting her two pieces bath suit, ready to come back to the improvised discotheque, her attention was caught by something on the beach. A fire?
      She squinted her little beady eyes to discard any of the hallucinatory visions that sometimes she had.

      “MA-VIS!”
      BLODDY COMIN’!” a hint of exasperation. “Mrs Sharon Stone, you ain’t the queen here” she thought. “I can go look for adventure meself, if I want to”.
      Besides, the fire didn’t seem to be too far away.

      :fleuron:

      With the darkness that made very difficult their progress, Akita had made them stop near the shore, where they would see any trouble coming and had ordered the small troop to collect twigs and bits of wood to light a fire.
      The parents were still in a bit of a shock, and were staying with a blank gaze, looking with an air of wildness at the soothing sound of the waves. Anita was playing nearby, drawing things in the sand, muttering words to herself.
      That was a good thing that Claude was there. Unlike the others, he seemed quite strong, and the adventure didn’t seem to have left him short of resources.
      He had been on the island before, and had said they had to avoid the constructions, which were all owned by the same people.
      For all that mattered, Akita wanted to get to the authorities as soon as possible, but he had to compromise: they would settle close enough to have a check around and see if it would be safe to go there.

      In a minute, Claude had been roaming through the woods and had gathered a pile of wood. That guy was pretty amazing, Akita was thinking. Odd that he had retained his supernatural strength… At least, Akita had imagined that the guy’s strength was the result of the spider exposure, but now he started to doubt it. He had been sketchy to say the least around the circumstances of his presence.
      As far as he himself was concerned, Akita wished he had retained somewhere his connection to Kay, wherever his spirit dog was. What the creature had said? That veils were thicker, but not impermeable… Or something around that.

      I think they’re still hanging around

      What? What did you say? But Anita didn’t answer. Perhaps his tired mind was imagining things.

      With all that rain soaked wood, it would be difficult to get anything but smoke.

      I’ve got a lighter Claude handed him an expensive ziraf that flashed moon reflection in his eyes.

      Let’s get started then.

      :fleuron:

      What now?

      A roaring sound of a flying thing startled Mavis, passing over her head.

      Mmm… this island’s getting too crowded, me think. Must be another of Vessie’s guests… That gal sure’s got how to use her sex-apple.”

      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #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…

      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1005
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        This I Ching business wasn’t very convenient to figure out, Al was thinking.
        For Becky’s draw, he had more than a handful:

        entry 3 (id:1610) #835
        entry 2 (id:234) #171
        entry 1 (id:1275) #638

        All he had to do was relax, and know that the magic would appear by ways of his interpretation of these numbers.
        He wanted to get 6 numbers out of these 3 comments. So, for each of the comments, he would make 2 numbers.

        So, for the original comment IDs:

        • 1275: 1 (odd) and 2 (even) gives (odd) ; then 7 and 5 gives (even)
        • 234: 2 and 3 gives (odd) ; 3 and 4 (odd)
        • 1610: 1 and 6 gives (odd) ; 1 and 0 gives (odd)

        odd-even-odd-odd-odd-odd (what a bunch of odds, he thought, though barely surprised remembering the numbers came from Becky)
        that’s 1-0-1-1-1-1 or |¦||||

        From now on, he would spare everyone the maths, and play some interlude music while working out the magic.

        (some lalala music) :yahoo_party:

        and for the mutation (835,171,638): 1-0-0-0-1-1 or |¦¦¦||

        And the result: ‘Fellowship of Men’ mutating to ‘Increase’

        Bah… this is more fun to add more nonsense than try to figure out what it was all about. Al was finding it the moral of the story for today.

        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1000
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Tina scowled: “What?”
          Six at the top means: A goat butts against a hedge.
          “Oh, that must be another of Becky’s evil doing…”

          Al added after a moment: “when I scrap the last line, the draw is not bad either …”

          “Oh,” he said, looking at the numbering… “Eighteen to go in eight days…”
          “Yes,” said Tina, “we will have to slow down now, better tell Becky that, or she will see our entries and go crazy with new ones”
          “Ahahaha” Al couldn’t imagine how Becky would react at someone telling her NOT to do something ;)) — it was like playing “you won’t dare” with a child :))

          in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #999
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Al fumbled for a minute, and exclaimed:

            ‘The Power of the Great!’ mutating into ‘the Taming Power of the Great’…

            He was genuinely impressed…

            in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #998
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              “Okay,” Al started.
              “At the essence of I Ching, is the notion that everything is mutable, and changes. Everything changes, except the law that says that everything changes.
              “In many ways, the I Ching is like a book where the pages numbering change every time you start to read it. Not unlike our story composition.”

              “I get that,” answered Tina, interested by what would come out.

              “So,” Al continued, always disagreeably pondering, Tina would say. “usually, when people are drawing to read from the I Ching, they have six numbers that give an hexagram. And these numbers are carrying into them their potential change, which usually gives another hexagram to read.”
              “In our stories, the entries have a fixed identity, which is given by the system; this is our starting point. For your comments, this is ’4-191-328’.
              “But as everything evolves, our entries are given an order in the book; this order is changeable, and that’s what I will use for the second hexagram; in your case it’s ’2-151-223’.”
              “If you say so…” Tina sighed, a bit lost.
              “Oh, I’m inventing the rules as we speak,” Al said trying to reassure her somewhat.
              “I don’t know if that makes me feel better” she said.

              “Okay. Now, I need to create the hexagrams; hexagrams are defined by six straight or broken lines; zero or one, binary system. Here, Chinese usually use the convention that odd is straight, and even is broken… Ahaha, doesn’t seem to make sense, but odd is male, unbalanced into action, and is associated with single, straight things. Broken is paired, complete in reflection, unbalanced in passivity.”

              “And I wonder when we actually start to hear something that makes sense?” whispered Tina, a bit crossly.

              “Okay, the thing I see, is that I have trouble making one hexagram with seven numbers, ahaha”, Al laughed a bit embarrassed.

              “Oh, then no point in wiggling like that” said Tina very sweetly, “Scrap any bit that bothers you”.

              “Okay, anyway we can go deeper into them afterwards if needed; I’ll scrap the first number rather than the last, because you see, 2 and 4 are both even, and thus there is no mutation here.”

              Original Mutation
              8 ╌ 3 —
              2 ╌ 2 ╌
              3 — 2 ╌
              1 — 1 —
              9 — 5 —
              1 — 1 —
              4 ╌ 2 ╌

              “So here we are, if we scrap the bottom one, we get…”

              in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #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…

              in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #992
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                And, Al just got a striking revelation… that if you combine some entries numbers, you may get a I Ching sentence which may reveal some interesting clues…
                It’s all about the flow of transformations, sweetie. he mumbled to Tina in the most ponderous way.

                Tina answered a bit flippantly “what you are up to now…”
                “Let me show you,” Al said, “could you point me two entries that are particularly meaningful to you?”
                “Oh, let me finish my entry first”, Tina answered

                Al waited…

                in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #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…

                  in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #989
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Oh, he thought, at least Tina’s coming another 8 closer (then immediately thinking he was now changing it to another start of a cycle — another convenient way of saying he’d just blown this new magic occurrence of “858”, but wasn’t it how changes were supposed to be made?).

                    Now, what the cloud had in store for him, he wondered…

                    elikozoe sync closer especially dear ask soon suddenly began known difficult step”

                    OK, Al thought, now that’s interesting… this was no coincidence that “Elikozoe”, his nom de plume (he was born Albert (Al) Yokoso, from a father of Japanese descent and a mother of Cajun descent) would appear like that out of the blue…
                    As for “dear”, who else than “Dear” Tina :agreed:

                    in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #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.

                      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #986
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        Oh well, I think I’ve just made it… Wonderful technology ;))

                      Viewing 20 replies - 1,341 through 1,360 (of 1,722 total)