📚 › The Jorid

A story of love and adventure beyond the ages and confines of dimensions, which has been retold in countless variations.

With Georges and Salomé, and some of the friends and mentors they meet on their travels on the Jorid.

So the Story goes...

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  • in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #222

    Dory was in fact only seeing one parrot: it was a bit exhausted and its head seemed like it had a toothache… but it had no tooth.

    “Hum.”

    Dory was startled by the masculine voice. She hadn’t heard any sound from someone coming or felt any breeze indicating movement. As she turned her look at the man, she was even more startled by his face. A young face with bright amber eyes, and some funny tattoo on his forehead. She was unable to find any association with the shape which seemed to change in every moment. She was a bit hypnotized by it’s multi-dimensionality.

    “hum” the man said again.

    “Are you looking for something here?”

    His voice was deep and warm, very reassuring and she wasn’t feeling alone now, the tunnel was indeed feeling very crowded, the presence of the man was awesome.

    “Well it seems I’ve found you…” she said.

    “Enchanté. My name is Georges.” he said, a smile illuminating his face.

    “I just came out of the Faded Cabbage, a very nice tavern in Dalmot… I felt some dizzy portal appearing and felt the impulse to go through it, and here I am.”

    It was all nonsense to Dory, except the cabbage part that reminded her of the coleslaw. Her belly was growling.

    “Actually I’m quite hungry, and I’ve nothing to eat…”

    “Oh” he said. He just looked in her eyes, making her feel more dizzy or blurred, she was feeling so out of her reality.

    The smell of coleslaw was filling the tunnel…

    “I have some… what do you call that ?”

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #224

    Grandad! Grandad!, called India Louise to Lord Wrick, running in the old manor, her footstep making creaking and loud noises down the windy staircase.

    Hilarion Wrick was seated in his favourite armchair, dozing after the hefty meal prepared by Nanny Gibbon, the cat Manfred on his lap.

    Raising an eyelid, his cheerful wrinkled face smiled at the little girl.

    — And how can I be of assistance, dear little one?

    — Grandad, this book is full of wonders, but at times it’s like some characters have their own life, and I don’t always understand what they do… In fact, she added thoughtfully, I don’t understand them most of the time…
    — Hahaha, laughed the old Lord, but they have certainly their own lives, as they are living in your imagination. What can I explain to you?
    — Well, let me think.

    India Louise took a moment, and asked again

    — For instance, this woman who just run in the cave, she seems to meet many people here, but I am confused. Is she dreaming, or are they real?
    — Well, as a matter of fact, let me express to you that they are all real, even if you think that she dreams them. However, I am understanding of what you are saying, and I shall acknowledge your perspicacity. These characters are not all from the same areas of consciousness.

    Here, we will explain for the reader that these books were not unknown to Lord Wrick who had spent lots of time during his youth playing with them. How they were lost and found again is the subject of another story, and we will not divert the reader’s patient attention for much longer on this issue.

    — Areas of consciousness?

    — Yes, you see, let me explain. That individual that you call Dory, she is in a physical world. But she is aware, to an extent, of other realities that overlap her own reality. Just as her story overlaps your own reality my dear one.

    — And Illi? Who is she?
    — This one is also Dory, but another personality of her, in another time. She has just passed away, quite recently. She is beginning to slowly become aware of that, and she connects with other of her personalities, and at times blends with them, like the other Illi, the cat-like creature, who is still in the physical reality of Malvina’s world.
    — Mmmm, this is quite intricate…
    — Hahahaha, yes, it seems so, but it will not be so puzzling when you don’t try to attach your current limited perception to this story. This story is you my dear. You are the story.
    — Well, and Sanso, and Georges then, are they dead or what? How come Dory can see them?
    — These ones are special, they have mastered the crossing of the Worlds, and can move through them. They move differently though. Sanso comes from a lineage of an ancient tribe of Zion, and had learn from them how to activate some portals, but only through the physical world of Dory, in their own time. He is not yet aware that he can also move through time as well, or even through other Worlds —worlds that he has no conception of yet.

    Georges is more consummate in that art. Their meeting is not coincidental. You will see that.

    — Thank you Grandad, it’s becoming a bit less confusing.
    — Just flow with the story my little one, don’t hold on too much, or you will find it too difficult, and you will stop to find fun in it.

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #225

    Becky and Sam were chatting on the phone. I want a day off from shifting, Becky sighed.
    I was saying that yesterday, Sam said, bugger off the shift.

    Becky was reading the rough notes for the new dimensional reality play they were working on with some friends from the create-your-own-drama group

    “You eat with me? Come on, sit down and tell me how you got there?” who is saying this, Georges or Dory? Becky asked Sam. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was finding the plot increasingly hard to follow.

    Dory, Sam replied, and then added, In my perception.

    Becky sighed, and then giggled, making a mental note to review the criteria for Day Off Shifting Day… It could be an awful lot of fun, too, this shifting, maybe Focus on Fun Day instead…

    … She needs to be like a host, Sam was saying. Becky hadn’t been listening properly and wasn’t quite sure what he meant.

    Ok, so pretend I am Dory right now and I say: How did you get here Georges?

    Hahahahh I won’t spoil you! Sam laughed, and Dory harumphed a bit to herself, wondering how to deal with the unexpected appearance of Georges. Not that she wasn’t delighted at the surprise visit, and quite charmed by him.

    ‘Enchanté’ he’d said, and she giggled again.

    To Sam she said Oh I thought that would be an easy help. Then she had an idea.

    I will write Georges smiled a big toothy grin, and said ‘I won’t spoil you’

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #228

    Salome had felt Georges closer… he was coming, though not here entirely yet.

    She was feeling like he was in between worlds. And there was that other energy personality with him, a bit confused but ready to move on.

    Salome was about to meet with another close aspect of herself in this dimension. She knew the connections and her other self knew she was coming. Malvina was her name.

    Salome was moving fast through the elements of this dimension… it seemed she already had experienced it before, but it was different. New energies and new aspects were adding to the experience and the diversity of it. A movement that could be translated as a big Cheshire smile rippled from her center throughout the entire dimension, and Malvina’s giggle responded in different times.

    Salome was not yet fully focused on the time and space of the encounter, it was not yet necessary, though it has already been done and they were all meeting in the cave(s)… These caves were a translation of the interconnectedness of the dimensions and were constantly reshaping in the timeline of this dimension —though with the particular focus she could experience most of the ramifications.

    She was in a manner of speaking waiting for someone, someone has yet to do a little thing before she would send a focus of herself in the joyful party.

    >> :yahoo_big_hug: <<

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #229

    Georges smiled a bit toothy grin and said ‘I won’t spoil you’

    You mean I have to guess? asked Dory, who thought it was beginning to seem like an odd way to make someones acquaintance; first them appearing out of nowhere, and then expecting one to guess where they came from.

    Hahahahah! You may offer your impression, Dory, not your guess! laughed Georges.

    Well, pffft, thought Dory, I didn’t ask you to come, here you arrive, unannounced, unexpected and you expect me to play your guessing games!

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #231

    HAHAHA! it is your first step now. Let me just remind you that you need not play MY game, the game is yours, ever.” said Georges.

    Dory was feeling a bit confused now. What was he talking about, what game? And first step to what? She couldn’t hold to the anger nor the irritation; all of that was feeling not real or not here, or not there for all she knew.

    “The direction you follow is your choice, and where I come from is not relevant to this conversation. You may say I come from yourself :) and indeed you called me and I wanted company. Do you want more coleslaw?”

    Without waiting for her answer he refilled her plate with the tasty food.

    All those smells,… she could feel so many different things, things that appeared not to be here. A movement caught her attention in her periphery. As she turned her gaze whatever was there had vanished. And this humming, it was like music, but not very clear… if she could just focus more on it, yes like that, she was feeling sooo calm and she began laughing.

    “Hahahah… haha. Did you drug the coleslaw?” She asked, trying to appear angry and unhappy, but all she could do was smile and laugh.

    The images around her were shape-shifting, there were many colors, some of them she didn’t know could be possible, the walls were melting of sort and becoming transparent, or just fluid maybe…

    “Well you see how it’s easy to relax. Let’s see where you want to go now my dear Rafaela”, he said winking.

    And everything turned into a great maelström but she felt secure and could feel his presence reassuring, and there were all those other faces and places, some felt very familiar, had she ever been there before?

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #233

    Dory was secretly delighted Georges had drugged the coleslaw, despite appearing to be angry. She loved the way different things altered her perception, and even though she knew how to alter her perception without using a drug now, she also knew she was creating the drug and its effects, and that it didn’t much matter whether she did or she didn’t.

    (Becky wondered if that principle applied to pain relieving drugs too, and decided that indeed it must. She wondered though if she really really believed it enough to trust herself to create pain relief WITHOUT actually swallowing a little ball of physical matter)

    Dory was reluctant to admit it at first, but she’d also known all along that she’d created Georges appearing out of nowhere like that, and that she had in fact invited him. Sometimes it seemed easier to forget that and just grumble, which of course was acceptable too. Grumbling was fun sometimes, but it got awfully boring if she carried it on for too long.

    The coleslaw was delicious.

    Have some more, offered Geroges

    (Becky made a note to change Georges name to Geroges. It was no accident that she kept typing it like that, and she was beginning to think correcting it all the time was futile, and that she was somehow missing the clue)

    Dory munched the crunchy coleslaw.

    (Without a moments appreciation for her lovely strong full set of teeth, Becky noticed)

    Dory unexpectedly felt a moment of appreciation for her teeth. Wow, she thought, I never even think about that, but teeth are cool. She shuddered when she remembered an awful dentist dream she’d recently had.

    Dory looked up at Geroges and smiled.

    Got any chocolate?

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #256

    Yann have been working on the drawing sporadically, several subject were coming to his mind at the same time and he wanted to treat them all… All what he could do for the moment was just draw some sketches of all that… there was that scene with his niece and the dragon-boy, and that other scene where he could see that man on a dinosaur-like mount…

    At times he could also feel the gentle energy of his dear friend Amanda. He’d wanted to meet her in Vienna in June, but unfortunately she couldn’t attend the meeting. She was participating in his current exploration of art. It was like he could feel many energies from different people and different beings and he could choose to express them as he wanted.

    Some could be translated just in movement, like just drawing lines and create a harmonious disposition and interactions between them, suggesting other lines that weren’t fully expressed or weren’t expressed at all.

    Some others could be translated as colors and shades, contrast and iridescence… possibilities were infinite.

    He was wondering how he could introduce the gentle energy of his friend, but maybe it had already been incorporated.

    :fleuron:

    Salome was feeling a draw to the cave…

    She was focusing her energy slightly differently now, in order to manifest in this dimension an aspect of herself.

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #257

    When Cuthbert came back to bed after having had his cup of cocoa, India Louise was awake too.

    — I saw him too, she said to her brother.
    — I don’t want to see him again, these books are scarey.
    — It’s intriguing, I want to know more, India Louise said, egging on him.
    — When I close my eyes, I got all these roots and webs crawling, it’s mad… I can’t…
    — He has found a friend to help him cross the Dark Forest to the traveling portal.
    — A friend?
    — Yes, a friend. She’s special.
    — Tell me more…
    — She’s a white unicorn, only him can see her.
    — Wow…
    — She’s named Mirÿnda. She’s glowing white, and he hears her speak in his mind, she shows him the way through the forest…

    :fleuron:

    — Mirÿnda?! A fool in saffron robe gallivanting in the forest with a unicorn now? That’s all you could find?

    Tina was taken aback…

    — Well, I could have used a grizzly bear too, now I think of it… Al answered flippantly.
    — Tsk tsk, replied Tina a bit annoyed. And why not a humpback whale, or an arctic lemming, or even… why, a leopard gecko for that matter?… And who’s that Mÿrinda anyway?

    :fleuron:

    — I don’t know any Amanda, Fiona said to Quintin that night. Don’t really know many of Michaela & Elias’ students. She’s Yann friend, right?

    Quintin had answered distractedly, as he was engrossed by his last painting…

    Later that night, he couldn’t find sleep, as the dragon he was painting was still expanding his web of roots and branches in his mind’s eye. He opened his computer to see that Malika was online.

    She told him something that night, something Quintin found abysmally profound and perplexing about his dragon…

    Dragons can shape shift, into anything they want to. There are several doorways/portals that they use for travel into this dimension. Malika said
    — Yes, said Quintin, this drawing has something to do with these portals initially, but I struggle a bit to represent them…
    Yes, so you can just depict it to be flowing, liquid-like energy in the center, when the portal is active.
    There are some that are being shone to me on the bottom of the ocean floor.
    What is being shown to me, is a dragon with a tail much like a mermaid, and hands with webs, big yellow eyes…

    Wow he had thought, she can really see.

    :fleuron:

    Jadra, guided by Mirÿnda, had been moving quite easily through the Dark Forest. Of course, he wouldn’t have dared touch the holy creature, and so he was walking hesitantly behind, taking care of where his bare feet were touching the ground.

    The Dark Forest was bordering the Marshes of Doom, and at times the limits between the two were almost indiscernible. It was said that every foul, err… fool… damn,…

    — Will you stop being so buffoonish! raved Tina again.
    — Perhaps I should let someone else continue then? said Albert.
    — Well, that’s entertaining, replied Becky mechanically.
    — OK. I’ll jump in, said Samuel, with a wide grin.

    It was said that every full moon, the Mighty Shrimp would come from the shores of the Southern Seas and haunt the Marshes in search for souls to be turned into krill, so that he could be the WALRUS (Wrathful Almighty Lord Ruler of Undersea Souls).

    Well, at least, that’s what Jadra had heard in his youth, when you tend to believe everything… So he was weary of the hiki-hiki sounds in the night that might have been the dreaded call of the Mighty Shrimp.

    :fleuron:

    Quintin was having a strange dream. He was a huge whale, along with another one he knew was Yann, swimming powerfully in the vast ocean, passing by strange creatures that could have been mermaids or improbable fishes, when his gaze was attracted by a stream of glittering particles of light.

    The lights were enticing, he would have said even “mouth-watering”, had he not had the baleens full of water already…

    :fleuron:

    Salome was moving through layers of consciousness, something humans focused in physical dimensions would have found difficult to grasp, as it was nothing that could be easily conceptualized. She was, as best as she could put, like a huge cloud of lightness coalescing into a form, when she decided to project her aspect.

    Taking form into a dimension required no effort in actuality, the consensus reality created by all the essences focused into the reality making quite a strong pull. She only needed to move her attention to what she wanted to manifest. Altering her reality slowly around her, to move closer to the desired effect.

    She was not only traveling through time and space, but also through multitudinous layers of dimensions unnoticed to many humans —in fact, she was not really moving, but that was a convenient way of telling things for humans…

    She said “humans”, because she was fond of this particular dimension, where she’d had lots of experiences.

    When moving through the dimensions, it had her projected focus of attention constantly and naturally adapt its form to the psychological environment.

    Here, she had just moved through a honey-drops dimension, where focuses were drops of golden honey-like substance, and as she moved through it, her own aspect had changed to that of a sand-glass shaped drop of honey.

    This was great fun for her to see the ease with which she could focus into this infinite variety of adventures, but for now, her pull was to some more complex physical dimensions.

    She started to move again, de-focusing, past the lazy honey drops.

    The honey drops were now shape-shifting to a whole immense field of snake-like strings of light, and they all started to converge to a direction. She knew the feeling. She followed the strong pull.

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #270

    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 Moufle. An ancient word for mitten… Well she didn’t ask why he’d call him like that, the dog was so hairy…

    Leonard was a lonely traveller, quite ancient as she could feel, but she wasn’t able to know his actual age. And there were some other weird feelings when she was focusing on his energy tone, something to do with time itself.

    When she first met him she knew he was the one she was looking for for ages. It’s been such a long time she hadn’t heard from her sisters. Oörlaith’d been having these dreams since they chose different direction many years ago, Malvina and Roselÿn, her precious ones. It wasn’t necessary for her then to keep objective contact with them through the glubolín.

    One year ago, the dreams stopped abruptly, and she tried several methods to reach her sisters. None of them with success. All her attempts failed, and she thought first she had lost her own power, but she knew one can not loose power of self, just forget it or create it on purpose. She realized then it was time to recreate these links more objectively.

    She couldn’t find her glubolín though. And Leonard arrived. Fortunately enough he had news from some strange events occurring in the land where she knew Malvina had settled her rookery. Was she still here with Leörmn?

    ***

    Yann had been feeling many impulses to draw scenes from his dreams and from the story they were creating with Quintin, Fiona, and Truth. It was an urge from inside and last night he had a very intense dream activity, most of which he couldn’t remember, it was more like a big forum with many different personalities all exchanging experiences and exploring new avenues.

    He was also attracted by old stories he was writing when he was a student, the one involving Georges and Salome, it seemed to him they had taken a life of their own now, and they felt very powerful, and most of all, they felt like really having fun.

    One of the drawing that was intriguing him was one that represented a sign of sort, in grayish sparkly clouds. He had given the pic a strange title, Oorlath. Yann had connected the name to an individual and was surprised when Quintin told him about a princess named Oörlaith. He was wondering who she was…

    She still had no face when he thought of her… maybe she was hidden for the moment… and he had the strangest thought that she knew Leonard, the man he’d been drawing with his black hairy dog.

    Haha, he had felt her smile.

    ***

    Chiara was looking for the boy she’d met last time in her dreams. Maybe he could give her some berries again, they were really tasty and fluberrish.

    But she’s been looking for him for so long she wonder if she could find the way again…

    Where she was now felt different. The light? The air? She took a deep breathe and just sat down on the grassy land. She had a quick thought that the land were more rocky than grassy a few seconds ago, but as she was feeling the grass under her hands, she dismissed the thought.

    She was hearing birds singing, it was quite funny the way they were bounding from one sound to the other and she could understand what they were saying, much gossips and a few compliments for a new mother ;)) nothing really important to her. She Jibbled.

    Lying down on the mossy land, she was looking… mossy? wasn’t it grassy? Now it’s mossy… hope that wouldn’t become mothy ;))

    She was looking the clouds, some were grayishly sparkling, she was enjoying it…

    “Are you looking for something” a voice said.

    Chiara quickly sat up and gazed at the fat lady who was standing before her.

    “Hahahaha, you found me at least my dear” laughed the woman.

    “My name is Roselÿn, and you are Chiara, aren’t you?”

    The little girl was gaping at Roselÿn… how could she possibly know her name?

    “I feel I know you :yahoo_thinking:” she said dreamily.

    “You make me feel like when I’m with my uncle Yann, and… there’s something else… oh!?”

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #295

    Becky had decided to take her friends out for the day. Poor Al needed a break from scratching his head in confusion, and dear Tina needed a break from rubbing her aching temples. She knew Sam would enjoy a day out too.

    Becky was enjoying preparing the itinerary.

    Champagne breakfast at the Droles de Dames cafe in Le Touquet~Pu first, a table reserved under the gaily striped awning overlooking the sea. Fresh croissants and hot coffee, Bavarian cream donuts, tangy fresh squeezed Tesorillo orange and Tiki kiwi juice, scrambled dragon eggs on French toast, and Moroccan mint tea.

    The exhibit of Sand Sculpture was next, a pleasant stroll on the beach after breakfast would be just the ticket, Becky thought.

    Next, a little side trip to place a few hibiscus blooms on the grave of Oscar Wilde. He was buried at the Father Chase Memorial Garden on a mossy knoll overlooking the sand sculptures, a short stroll from the beach.

    A golden coach and six dappled grey horses would meet them at Father Chase gardens and take them to the lawns of Sandlebright Hall, for the hot air balloon ride. The big red balloon would land on Isla de los Perdidos, a magical island in the Rift Straits, for a picnic lunch under the coconut trees and a relaxing swim in the deliciously warm lagoon. Balti had agreed to provide head massages for the little party of day trippers, and had suggested a big iced jug of crop juice as the perfect accompaniament.

    A paddle steamer would arrive to take them back to the mainland after the sojourn on the magical isle. There were comfortable whicker steamer chairs on the deck with cosy tartan blankets for those wishing to snooze a little, or raucous poker games inside the red plush interior for those who chose to exercise their creating skills on the green baize tables.

    The Cirque de Paradoxia matinee was on the agenda for the afternoons entertainment, with the new sonic stone juggling as one of the highlights.

    A theatre supper in Covent Garden, Becky had decided, and the Orient Express was the perfect way to get there. Hercule Poirot had kindly agreed to serve drinks and nibbles on the journey. Becky perused the entertainment section of The Reality Times, wondering which play to take her freinds to. Aha! Salome, of course!

    Becky considerately booked rooms at the Hogwarts Hotel on Queen Street for her friends to freshen up and change, ready for the evenings festivities. A hot pink stretch limosine would call for them and escort them to the Blue Man Group show, and then on to the party at the Dragondrome Stadium.

    Becky booked rooms at the Taj Mc Fal Hotel for her friends to retire to after the party, whenever they so wished…the pink limo would be available all night.

    There, said Becky in satisfaction, they will love it.

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #347

    She was focusing different aspects of herself differently and slowing down her vibrationnal quality in order to acquire that timely touch necessary to interact as she wanted in this particular dimension.

    She was focusing on this… cave and adding her own energy to the movement of this seasonable exploration.

    She could feel Malvina and a young female… Arona, yes as translation of her tone, speaking together.

    She was feeling Buckberry was also attracted to the cave of his father.

    She smiled… her dearest Georges was here too now.

    Salome was fully focused now in one of the bluish glowing tunnels… she rippled a loving energy to the glukenitche who turned yellow of pleasure for a few seconds, and she walked through the rocky mount in the direction of the roockery.

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #421

    As soon as Dory had said goodbye, Georges had felt her presence fade out. He was glad he’d met her.
    Once she was gone, he heard the voice of his beloved one… he had felt her coming for quite some time but she wasn’t very focused yet.

    — Hello my lynxounet!
    — Hahaha! How are you Salome? Long time no see :yahoo_big_grin:

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #422

    — The Murtuane seems different than the last time I came, said Salome.
    — Yes it is. People are changing it. It is becoming like a planet, spherical in a way.