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  • Oörlaith heard the sound of a barking dog not far from her rookery. They were back with his master, and she knew at once their mission was complete. A few months ago she had met a strange man, he told her he was called Leonard, and the funny black dog that was following him everywhere was called ... · ID #270 (continued)
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Éric

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  • in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #392

    — The legend of Mævel — (Part IV)

    Mævel’s mind was made up, she was leaving tonight. She took a few of her belongings in a little bundle, and all very silently, moved to the door, the bundle in one hand, and the key in the other.

    But when she tried to put the key into the lock, she noticed something was wrong. The key was way too big for the small lock. What was the purpose of materializing a big key unfit to the locks that were in front of us? she wondered.
    Perhaps the key will have another use, she said to herself, and she put it into her bundle, and wondered whether she could find another way to get out of the bedroom.

    « Use your magic,… you don’t need to play by the rules » a tiny voice whispered in her ear.
    « What does that mean? » she asked, befuddled, as perhaps her parents where right after all, she was becoming nuts… Well, that might attract squirrels and have them gnaw a hole in that wall, she said giggling to herself.
    « You don’t need draw squirrels,… you can draw a door directly »

    What a strange idea, Mævel thought, drawing a door… It sounded so funny at the moment, that she could feel her heart lift and her spirits as well. What could she use to draw that door… Her gaze ran quickly through the bedroom, looking for a bit of chalk, or charcoal, or whatever else. What a terrible thing that she was so obsessed by dusting, as there wasn’t even a single dust bunny left to draw that door.

    « Now, will you pay attention? »
    « I beg your pardon? »
    « What did I told you? »
    « Mmmm, let me think… Oh! I don’t have to play by the rules… »

    So, in a bout of genius, Mævel ran her finger on the wall, starting from the floor, straight upwards, then to the right, and straight down again, until… well, nothing happened.

    « That wall hasn’t budged any! »
    « Are you sure?… Look closer »

    And Mævel saw that the wall had become like a shiny surface of water, right inside where she had drawn the limits of that imaginary door. And when she pressed her finger, it was simply going through it, as though the surface had just been an illusion.

    With a thank for the helpful voice in her head, she was about to cross the surface, but was stopped in her track by a moment of hesitation. Could she change the destination behind the wall as well?
    Why not, after all, she didn’t have to play by the rules.

    « To the forest! » Mævel ordered intently to the wall before jumping in.

    The voice smiled to her fondly.

    in reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk…… #1384
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Wrapped up in the pages too =))

      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #387
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Of course, as soon as they had stepped into the powerful magnetic field generated inside the T.R.A.P., the reality around them was transphormed as if they all had been into a huge deFørmiñG mirror, that they could shape with their strangest thoughts.

        Obviously, they had all started to hallucinate some funny stuff…

        It was happening so quick, Sam noticed. Sean’s breath was smelling of whiskey, and Sam felt Sean had forgotten something on his way to New York. He felt compelled to ask him if there was something on his mind…
        — Peregrine!
        — Who’s that?
        — Oh, he will be so disappointed… Sean started to sob. I’m such a bad father!

        Sean couldn’t find a composure. Hopefully, Becky wrapped her sensual arm around his shoulders, and hugged him tenderly.

        — Hey, look, she said, the children are more adept at these games than we are,… if we want, we can have him project here from his bedroom and share the fun with us. What do you reckon?

        And she started to yell:

        — Peeeeerrrry ! Peerrrry !

        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #384
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Sumelfi had already tried to nudge Becky into adopting a nine-tailed fox for cleaning up some of her stuff, but she had repeatedly delayed it.

          At least, she had whispered in Becky’s ears, with the fox, I can teach the little thing some tricks to eat out the crappy stuff, so that you can make a good impression.
          Well, she loathed to compare, but at least she never had to be assigned to Tina, as her dusting skills were irreproachable.

          Becky was considering… Better a nine-tailed fox than nine fox puppies… She had seen some of the new advertised creatures in the Pup’ shop on her way to Sam the other day, and that could be fun.

          in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #380
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            When Al met the others, he was rather nonplussed by the profusion of capillar effects. Hairs colours were now a bit out of fashion, but he had to admit that Sam’s colours were radiant… Well, had it been for himself, he would have preferred something a tad bluer.

            When Becky had made her appearance, he was really impressed. He found Becky had made a “bald” move that was suiting her dark complexion to a T.
            (Becky was indeed sporting her African ancestry, coming from her mother Sabine Baina N’Diaye, with as much pride as her expensive boots).

            As for himself, Al was not displeased that he had followed the good-hearted advice of sweet Tina about his hair loss. But, as he had discovered along with Hari Amgic, it all boiled down to the fact that was he was finding the tonsure rather elegantly distinguished, and giving him the looks of a wise old monk.
            That had made Tina laugh of course, as she was finding him looking more like a monkey :(|) than anything else. Well, fine then, a Capuchin and that’ll make us agree on something at least, he had retorted a bit vexed.
            The truth was that now, with the help of Hari, he was growing hair so fast that he had to shave them in the morning, and they would be knee-long and thick in the evening… But that was fun.
            He was laughing now; he couldn’t have the monk look, but at least he had the sadhu look.

            He said to Tina with a mischievous wink that he really loved her hot pink dress with the little white kitty cats patterns on it. Perfect Goldilocks look. :D

            in reply to: Synchronicity #1547
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Bald sync in NY, with the song from the Brit group Morcheeba I had in my mind yesterday What New York Couples Fight About & Skye (the singer)’s haircut :)

              Once a label is on something
              It becomes an “it”
              Like it’s no longer alive

              […]

              If it’s up to you
              My little sweet baboo
              Through the shouting and the fever
              Think of life as queer
              Think of it my dear
              And some knobs or a fancy tone
              From here there is no reason
              Baby’s got it made
              But it’s not what the life’s about

              What is imagination
              May become a fact
              If we think of it that way
              If you want to know

              ( )

              in reply to: Synchronicity #1545
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Twin arena, Tina/Arona… sand and twins twicks, treaks, twists, whatever… :yahoo_doh:
                PS: let’s say that’s a bird  :yahoo_chicken: :yahoo_chicken:

                in reply to: Talks on the latest Instalments #1449
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  For the benefit of Finn, who wondered, here is an excerpt of an interesting conversation:
                  (# 241)

                  TP: ok, so Sean and Becky get it together then, and have triplets, then quintuplets
                  TP: then quads
                  TP: IVF
                  TP: hahaahhaah
                  Q: wow
                  TP: 12 kids
                  Q: poor Becky Pooh
                  Q: =))
                  TP: and Sam is godfather
                  TP: oh she finds she loves it
                  TP: haahahahah
                  Q: interesting
                  TP: but, Sean drinks a lot, and Sam helps her

                  in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #371

                  Dublin, November 2057

                  Hallowe’en had always been associated with fond memories with Sean. After all, back in 2033, it was the inauguration date of the first T.R.A.P. entertainment park, where he and Becky had been falling madly in love with each other.

                  There had been lots of things for Sean to put aside, especially considering how quick it all had been for them, especially considering the death of his wife, and this too short period of grieving by all standards, but well, bugger off the others.
                  He had not wanted to give any explanation, and Becky and him were sure of what they did.
                  And all had changed that year, even Becky had suddenly wished for lots of children. And they’ve had got children…

                  2035, the triplets: Oliver, Léan and Illana
                  2037 the quintuplets: Flora, Finn, Frank, Fanny and Fergie
                  and finally, in 2038, quadruplets: Vivian, Eve, Kevin and Mavie

                  He was thinking of his father, and how they had almost ceased to communicate. The children now, were almost all grown-ups and this would be the first Christmas they would have together with Becky without the children. Sean was feeling a bit nostalgic.
                  Perhaps he should phone his father, the upright Lord Hilarion Wrick…

                  in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #370

                  — The legend of Mævel — (Part III)

                  When the blue fox had disappeared, deep into the woods, Mævel was left wondering if all of that had only been a dream. Perhaps it was just a dream, and something that would make her parents raise their shoulders in dismay.
                  Especially since she had lost their gift carelessly they would say, the little pearl white ribbon…

                  She picked up the clothes that were left hanging to dry up in the wind, and came back to the little house.

                  Of course, her father Jorg noticed that she was not wearing the ribbon, but he was not much of a question asker, and things were or were not, and analyzing them was unnecessary for him. But of course, Ilga noticed it too, and she felt sad for poor Jorg who had endured so many sacrifices to buy the little ribbon that Mævel was no longer wearing. She wanted an explanation! Was it no longer to Mævel’s tastes, had Mævel lost it?

                  So Mævel, who could not lie to anybody, told them her encounter with Blohmrik, the cursed god in the woods, in the shape of a wounded blue fox… and at each of her words, was seeing their faces more and more disconcerted.
                  Their poor girl, who was already so different, had completely lost it,… ribbon and all that was left of common sense in her.

                  So they locked her up in the bedroom, that she was now occupying alone, as all of her brothers and sisters had left. Just to save her from herself, and see if that would help her gain some more solid sense of reality.

                  Mævel understood her parents, but she was deeply contrite that they could not understand what she had lived. Mævel was still doubting the reality of her meeting the blue fox, so she asked for some sign from the Gods before going to sleep, to see clearly.

                  That night, Mævel dreamt of a dark-haired young man with a white diadem1 around his head, dressed in a cerulean blue tunic and wearing a sword. He was enshrouded in a warm light and as she took the hand he was extending, they were carried away by a springing scented wind into a meadow of multicoloured flowers, some of which she had not even known could exist. She had felt at home.
                  When she woke up, in the middle of the night, Mævel was transfixed by the beautiful soothing dream. She could not remember much more, but he had told her something. That there was deep magic in her, and it would help her find her true home, but that she would have to gain back her true name from the Elder God who had took it from her.

                  She quickly took her decision. She knew she had to search for the blue fox in the forest. But how could she escape the locked bedroom? She was starting to feel desperate again, but she remembered that there was some magic in her, and how she had felt it deeply true in her dream.
                  As she was focusing on the warm expanding feeling of her dream, an old rusty key materialized in her hand.

                  1 diadem: [ ˈdī-ə-ˌdem (dəm) ] from Greek diadēma, from diadein to bind around; akin to Sanskrit dāman rope — was originally a white ribbon, ending in a knot and two strips that were placed often on the shoulders, that surrounded the head of the king to denote his authority.

                  in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #369

                  These guests have been once again distracted on their way to the party… Malvina was thinking, munching some raisins for her stomach was growling now.
                  Perhaps they were gathering more guests along the way, the cave was so full of surprises.

                  Oh yes they are, said Leörmn, they have now a little Ugling boy in their care… It’s like this young woman has truly a golden heart…
                  Aaaand, added Leörmn with a mischievous smile, I guess this unlikely couple with a baby will probably have some surprises in spare for us,… notwithstanding the fact that the cave’s tunnels are already steamy anyway.

                  Malvina caught off guard, almost rolled on the floor laughing at the unexpected probability that had surfaced in her mind, and blurted out a swear word “Boston!”

                  in reply to: Yuki’s Livrary #1311
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    October 23 rd

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

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

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

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

                    in reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk…… #1371
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Ahahaha, it IS a random entertainment :yahoo_big_grin:

                      in reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk…… #1369
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        Yeah, it seemed something like “daily reminder quote” was a bit rude :pirate: ;))

                        :notepad: Sketching the NV gondocabs now ;)

                        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #359

                        New Venice, year 2101

                        In the waiting hall, Bart was pacing the floor recklessly. They were having their first baby, but the doctors had hushed him out, because there were some complications…
                        All he could do was wait.
                        They were one of the first couple to have tested the new program that allowed same-sex couples to procreate without requiring the assistance of a third-party so to speak. In fact, it had been hypothesized to be possible a long time ago already. Well, theoretically… because the most challenging part had been to bring acceptance to the people, as the old beliefs were still alive in a few moribund activist groups. But what,… nature was doing even more exotic things in the realm of creatures…

                        Now he was thinking of Oscar, who had chosen to be the bearer of the child —a girl that would be… will be, mentally corrected Bart to himself. Funny thing about genetics was that male-male couples could have either girls or boys, but female-female couples could only have girls. Only because the male “Y” chromosome was carried by men.
                        It had been a painstakingly long subject of discussion among scientists and philosophers as to the unbalance it would create, but well, for the time being, it was the chosen design for our human natures.
                        As long as new ways of bypassing this restriction had not been invented, better enjoy it than stretching one’s mind around it.

                        Looking at the window which showed the stilted structures above the waters, Bart was thinking how it was all an incredible story… What were the probabilities for that to happen?
                        Bart couldn’t help but feel grateful for all of his blessings.

                        At the same moment, the big breasted nurse appeared at the door crying with a large smile “it’s a healthy girl!”
                        Bart burst into the room.

                        :fleuron:

                        They had already decided how she would be called. Midora, they had agreed.

                        When he entered, Oscar Wrick’s young face was tired and sprinkled with beads of perspiration, but he had the happiest look on his face. He was still feeling a bit self-conscious about the changes the pregnancy had generated in his body, but for now he was all absorbed by the little breathing thing resting in his arms.

                        After a warm embrace, Bartholomew Jobsworth thought that he should spread the good news to the family, at least to his mother, dear sparkling Indy and Bart’s parents, Eugenia and Cuthbert. He also had felt the presence of his Dad, Bill, during his wait and was deeply thankful for all of their support.

                        in reply to: The Room of Requirements #1486
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          Hehehe, all about style B-)

                          It’s done with h2. h3. etc. at the beginning of a new line.

                          h2. my new title
                          (new line)
                          my regular text

                          my new title

                          my regular text

                          in reply to: Synchronicity #1534
                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            About Yurara Fameliki (comment # 220)

                            Yurara (ゆらら の月 Yurara no Tsuki)

                            Yurara Tsukinowa is a quiet girl who can see spirits and sense their emotions. Not wanting to seem abnormal, she hides her secret until she meets Mei Tendo and Yako Hoshino, two guys who use their spiritual powers to ward off vengeful spirits. The dormant guardian spirit in Yurara arises and a strong-willed beauty with the power to release souls emerges.

                            in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #355

                            Gibraltar, Spain, October, 23 rd 2007

                            When Dory’s partner (well, the last one that is) came back from his shower into the lounge, he found little Becky playing with Dory’s computer as though it were her own.
                            He had always found strange that his first wife’s daughter had get along so well with the temperamental archaeologist… In fact they mostly ignored each other, but they were so similar in many respect that it was like they didn’t even need to communicate, they just knew each other.

                            Becky was only 5 (or was it 7? Dan never knew of course, which made Sabine, his first wife, constantly reproach him his lack of care) but she was brilliant. Perhaps that was the father in him talking, but he knew she would be doing great things. At such a young age, she had read The Perilous Treks of Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson (written by the Lord’s widow-then-remarried wife Floribunda von Grotto) so many times he had lost track himself (“as always,…” “now shut up Sabine, will you!”) and that was the least of her talents, he could tell.

                            For the moment, Dan was more wondering about Dorothy. It had been nearly a month she had been away for her vacations in Madagascar. Two weeks more than she had told him… And there was this Jabin man in Tel-Aviv still trying to reach her. Well at least, he had forwarded the message to the hotel, so she would have had it.
                            She might have delayed her return, especially if she had found some interesting archaeological stuff… well or a more handsome man… At least Dan could understand the handsome man, he laughed so loud Becky turned her head to him.

                            — Are you alright Daddy?
                            — Oh yes I am, treasure. What are you doing on Dory’s laptop? Not breaking anything are you?
                            — Oh no… I’m just having fun with one of Dory’s friend…
                            — Ahahaha, really? Dan was impressed
                            — Yes! But I didn’t tell her that Dody Doo was not home, she’s a bit of a worry wort.
                            — Ahahaha… Dory will come back, sooner or later, don’t worry…
                            — Oh, but I don’t worry Daddy! I know that she’s well. Now, I’ll tell bye bye to Fionny Fea and we can play backgammon!

                            in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #354
                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              — But we’ll have to find a pseudonym, Al had said to Becky, as they were discussing the unusual play last day.
                              — Yes! Becky had said enthusiastically.

                              And Al had known he was going to love the surprise that Becky would be finding for them.

                              Now, he was waking up, and the sun was bright and the sky clear above the waters. He’d had dreams of a huge reception, with lots of foods at all levels of a huge building, that people were eating and eating, but still there was always enough for everyone, and more, diversity too.

                              And there was this groundhog day dream before (and a popping blue dot in his peripheral vision as he was jotting down his thoughts, err he always thought jolted, that would make Becky laugh again), and in his groundhog day, he was winning millions in many different ways, but all that money had a purpose to help him in a rescue mission. He could not die before his mission was accomplish, or everything would start again, and again the abundance would be here in the form of millions…

                              When he saw Becky’s last entry, he wished he could hug all of them soon…

                              Yurara Fameliki… I love that name, he said to the noisy bird nesting on top of his window…

                              in reply to: Yuki’s Livrary #1312
                              ÉricÉric
                              Keymaster
                              Viewing 20 replies - 1,641 through 1,660 (of 1,726 total)

                              Daily Random Quote

                              • Oörlaith heard the sound of a barking dog not far from her rookery. They were back with his master, and she knew at once their mission was complete. A few months ago she had met a strange man, he told her he was called Leonard, and the funny black dog that was following him everywhere was called ... · ID #270 (continued)
                                (next in 12h 37min…)

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