Reflections and Regrets

Dear Alex,

It’s been awhile since we’ve last spoken, I’d say ever since I set out in an attempt to bring Arganee back to its former prosperous state and I feel that I’ve done my part, though I certainly couldn’t have done it alone. So many people played a part in the restoration of this world and its magical status, some even more so than I.

In this group effort many other alchemists and their unique minds and skills have played a creative roll in the restoration of Arganee. From the imagineers to remixers, each has played roles unique to their own skill levels and mindsets that others could not have accomplished on their own. What I have learned during this experience in Arganee isn’t so different from what I have learned during my time in the other world (your world), which is that no one person can do it all on their own. Whether it be an assignment/task ranging from minor in its difficulty level to considerably time-consuming with numerous aspects to it, one works renders more creative/effective results when working with others. Given the state that Arganee was prior to now I can honestly say that it would still be in in shambles, in disarray had there not been a combined effort of everyone’s unique mentalities and their passionate desires to give toward something.

I know my strengths and weaknesses and during this rigorous process of restoring Arganee I also attempted to build upon my weaker areas as an alchemist – my audio and social. With each trial that came my way in the form of “missions” and “DDAs” that served as a potential life-restorer to Arganee I attempted to implement various new methods that might incorporate traits of my lesser versed areas of magic. It is sad to say that I was unsuccessful in doing so, as dividing myself between the many tasks of my life as a whole combined with this this mission me and many other alchemists had set out on, it was hard to find the time to commit to applying myself more so to new ways of doing things. I know that I just recently told you that teamwork is key, and that is no exception amongst us alchemists, but I have remained solitary, in the shadows alone for the most part of my time during this mission as I am reluctant when it comes to counting on others to get certain time-limited jobs completed. That being said, my contribution here in Arganee have been limited to the same level of contributions from beginning to end. If only I was more proficient time management magic.

In the end of it all, I was surprised at how our digital alchemy was able to reform Arganee in the manner that it did. I know you’ve been a bit skeptical regarding the validity good that can come out of digital alchemy, Alex and that’s understandable. One could say that it is much like the rhetoric enforced by people the people of your world throughout history, in how through its implementation it provides a unique conveyance of perspective with regard to what it is representing. The manner in how one attempts to illustrate a point through the implementation of many methods – sound, pictures, words, etc. – can have unique power/sway over a person in how it gain there attention for better or worse. Perhaps they may be in favor of your message or against it, either way you have gained the attention of a number of people who will either serve to either advocate or discriminate what you to the attention of the public. There is power in words and even more power in how one in the constructive way that you get your message out to the world. Digital alchemy has tremendous potential; the most common forms of digital alchemy in your world that come to mind that have a tremendous impact are the news (typed and reported), online petitions and a variety of videos. I know it doesn’t always have such productive outcomes, but the outlet for your message, as well as how many people work with you hand-in-hand in have a profound influence on that outcome. The amount of responses that stemmed from our writing for Arganee should be proof of that.

I know that you have quite the untapped wellspring of potential for this sort of art, you just need to commit yourself more to it, or perhaps, much like me, you have particular preferences about getting yourself out into the world. Either way, keep building upon your strengths and weaknesses and never let your creative voice die.

Your pal,

The One Above All

So long Shadow Girl (wannabe ^.^)….


The Other Side, like your snuggly-snug shadows, methinks, is not as empty as it appears, aye? In fact, the seemingly hollow, swallowing spaces are teem- teeming with tales, tepid at first but ready to squeal, wail–scream like a tea kettle if given the time. Watched pots–kettles–aren’t really a problem here….where I’m from…eyes are pretty decoration at best, remember?

Stories reside–resound off bone–in the Other Side. If you let them. Give them the chance to speak to you, through you. They can be as cozy as those shadows you so admire, the word-weaving as delicate and as carefully refined as that to which you are so bore-boringly accustomed. Different magick is not necessarily all trick and no treat. No, it’s just done different, aye?

Spells this Side of the screen can be simple-so-delightful word-weaving or they can be echoes ric-ricocheting in the unvoid, bouncing off others, creating a cacophony that is at once both disconcertingly discordant and hallowy harmonious. A steady stream of staccato, tweet-tweet-twitters in your unears, inviting you to join.

So much of this place is for collaboration, for complex hexcraft no one alchemist (nor new-necromancer *hmph*) can hope to weave entirely themselves. Different magick requires different skills & work, aye? In the dark, though, we find each other, run our rickety, unfingers over the wefts, warps, welts, and webs of our story-skins. Share and shift and make room for more–the tales of our twinings.

Some things, I’m sure you know, Shadow Girl, fit better than others. Methinks spinning snippets of word-weaving on the Other World Wide Web for others to, mayhaps, stumble across and elaborate upon/complicate easier for you to appreciate than coming up with oily, snake-slithery words for ha-ha funnies. Our tastes, I believe, align in such a way. Curses and ha-ha hexes that create inconvenience–fly-away strands that won’t keep to their bands, slippery shoe laces, tongue-twist-twist-twisting–are great sport the only one I’m good at but, words woven to summon tears or demand blood are decidedly less fun to play with 🙁 The only flesh, blood, and bone a spell should require is your own, the only tears a poem need those freely, hum-humbly offered. If your funny ha-ha-ness is asking for otherwise, for more than fair, it’s not very funny ha-ha, huh?

….Here I am rambling to-and-fro like you, Dycpgc-Egpj-uyllyzc. Le sigh. Methinks you’ve grown as much on me as I’ve on you. Certainly, I’ve learned much about your Something World magick….it’s something, alright. Haha. No shadow suspended on a string of dust. Your magick is grounded in, well, ground. Fleshed out from flesh. Very tangible. Kinesthetic. Ours is still far removed. At a–shortening–distance but, a distance nonetheless. In the absence of that solid sense your Something World specializes so wholly in, I think we’ve weathered well though. Gotten creative. Imaginative. Appreciative. Done well teaching appreciation for what is instead of what isn’t. But, you tell me? Though you cannot touch me, run your fingers over my story-skin as you are accustomed to in Somethingness, can you feel me? As much as you can hear me? As much as you care to? Am I enough for you? Does my heart-for-handless-hands Lavinia-like? beat a rhythm you can jive to/with?

Methinks finding such an elusive, fair-for-sure jive a small but so necessary step. Unearthing a taste, too, for off-beat, Other delights also a must if one is to take something from my-handless-held-heart to their wickedly-warm-woosh-wooshing-one. Might unsettle the stomach or some other such sensitive system else-wise, aye?

Once you start bum-bum-bumbling like a honey bee rambling through the ruddy roses, it’s impossible to stop, huh? That, or you’re just contagious Shadow Girl…

Anyway, it’s been real or has it? Shadow Girl. Dycpgc-Egpj-uyllyzc. Hope to hear–haha–from you and your shadows soon. Don’t be a stranger, now ^.^ None of you alchemists out there, should settle for being strangers. Drop a line in the dark and the ripples will reach my far reaches–make them near, you hear–ha–? Or, cast a tweet-tweet-twittering spell and I will be sure to out-tweet tweet-tweet-twitter back a spell at you. Though the Other Side may be a vast and untamed unvoid, words to and from friends tend to travel the swiftest of any spells~

Céad slán go dtí go gcasfar le chéile sinn arís,

Nox Síog (yiy lmr y Qfybmu-Egpj-uyllyzc) <3


Crunch, Crunch, Crunch Time…

Is their power in parody? A latent ability that, once tap-tap-tapped, can transform thinking? That, through entertaining, can spur one to entertain thoughts they usually bar entry to? Is the silliness really all that silly?

Unfortunately, neither Dycpgc-egpj-uyllyzc nor this so-called Qfybmu-egpj-uyllyzc were able to find the time to giving such muse-muse-musings adequate consideration. Too many end of the season–end of one chapter–projects and other odds n’ so many ends to juggle. Thinking serious ’bout silliness just fell through weary fingers… 🙁 which isn’t so funny ha-ha, believe me for a change.

Dycpgc-egpj-uyllyzc has been reading her bones and me, my moon’s passages, though, and we forecast some free time in the near future to devote to properly measuring the merits or lack thereof of funny ha-ha-ness when it comes to instigating real change.

Hopefully, the wait is not too taxing for you fellow alchemists. Methinks, the crunch of crunch time echoing in more ears than just Dycpgc-egpj-uyllyzc’q and reverberating off more than these fair bones.

Many thanks for understanding~


Despite the crunch, magic spells are still being cast. Check them out if you dare ^.^

Faerie Spells

Shadow Spells

Céad slán till an chéad uair eile, daoine~



Memes.  Interesting form of communication I have discovered in this realm. Facebook, too.  So many posts.  “Funny” requests.  Why?  I want to tell ppl to stop, stop, stop. So, I made some memes to speak their language.  Not sure if message will be received correctly.  I think they may be….how do you say…..crass?

Skeptical Baby Big | ARE YOU SURE YOU WAITED LONG ENOUGH TO POST THOSE BEFORE AND AFTER PHOTOS? | image tagged in skeptical baby big | made w/ Imgflip meme maker

jesus facepalm | THANKS, BUT I'M PRETTY SURE GOD DOESN'T NEED ME TO GIVE HIM A SHOUT-OUT ON FACEBOOK | image tagged in jesus facepalm | made w/ Imgflip meme maker
Third World Skeptical Kid Meme | SO YOU'RE TELLING ME IF I DON'T CHANGE MY FACEBOOK STATUS TO SUPPORT YOUR CAUSE OF THE WEEK, I'LL HAVE 7 YEARS OF BAD LUCK? | image tagged in memes,third world skeptical kid | made w/ Imgflip meme maker

I'M PRETTY SURE THAT CELEBRITY LOOK-ALIKE GENERATING APP YOU USED WAS JUST BEING POLITE | image tagged in that look when some one leaves and then returns to facebook | made w/ Imgflip meme maker

It’s a good thing I do not know many ppl in this world.  I shall choose to reside in the mirror land.   

(For more reading fun, see my friend, Wanderer_920’s post about parodies in the Netnarr world)

Extended CWA: Avicia’s Story

My friends, I loved the Cooking With Anger prompt so much, that I decided to tell you more of my own story here! I can be wordy, and I had to cut it down a great deal to fit the requirements of that exercise.  I am glad to tell you more of my backstory. Please click on the linked words, they will enhance your experience of my story.

I looked out the window as my coach surged forward through the swirling vortex outside the window, a seemingly nonstop stream of tears trickling down my cheeks. This was uncharted territory. I was leaving my home world, going to “Earth.” leaving my friends, my housemates, and my family behind for an unforeseeable period of time. Grief welled up in me as I pondered what might be waiting for me, as the coach pulled out of the whirling ether and into the transport station. I was leaving my home world to travel to Earth and meet up with the other alchemists.

“Avicia Znevffn.” I heard the robotic voice address me, as the conductor suddenly blipped into existence in the doorway of my coach.

I looked up.

“Your departure point approaches. Gather your luggage.”

The robot remained stationed in front of the door of my coach, as I collected my possessions and let my mind wander.

I thought about home. In the last week, I had come to appreciate the little things that I knew I would miss, as I encountered them for the last time. I went home to say goodbye to my family, and wandered into my mother’s garden. The sky was a warm orange color, signifying of the height of the day, and the snow pea flowers were in bloom. I felt a surge of tenderness as I looked intently at their delicate white and purple blooms. I felt tears fill my eyes at the memory. I didn’t know how long I’d be away, but surely I wouldn’t experience anything like my mother’s garden for a long time.

As the coach slowly stopped whirling, the robot blipped away with a final, tinny, “Goodbye,” and the coach doors slid open, I was surprised to see a long, bright hallway in front of me. No other coaches were left at this stop. I was told that I would meet other alchemists on this journey, but I seemed to be alone at this stage. I was further surprised to see the no-nonsense departure route ahead of me. No more contact with the outside world of this planet, straight to the transport down to Earth. There would be no sugar-coating this journey.

I drew a deep breath and stepped into the hallway, hearing my soft footsteps echo down in the empty hallway around me. It was a long hall, but with each step I saw the entrance to the waiting room. I knew what would approach when I stepped beyond those doors.

Technicians would await me with a dose of the medicine that would put me out as I transported through time and space to my destination. My housemate, Knida, had told me it would be cherry flavored. At the time, I had snorted at the idea. Was I a child, that needed candy-flavoring to make a trip? But the anticipation had built up, and I felt a strange surge of bliss at the thought of a sweet treat, to soften the journey.

I took a breath and pressed my hand to the cold metal of the door. It reacted immediately.

“Avicia Znevffn,” a robotic announcement rang out. The doors opened, and a technician greeted me.  

“How was your trip?” the technician was not what I had expected. She was a kindly looking woman, who reminded me vaguely of my own mother. I wondered briefly at her story, before snapping myself back to reality.

“Tense,” I replied.

“First time away from home?” The woman’s eyes showed concern, and I felt something like adoration as an image of my mother flashed again through my mind.

“It is.”

“Well dear, it’ll be perfectly fine. Missions like this are what we’re made for.”

I nodded. I knew.  We were meant to leave our world, to travel to others, to interact with any and all beings willing to collaborate cultures and learn.

“What’s the transport like?” I asked, ready to snap to business.

“Quick. The serum will remind you of cherry ice cream. A cold feeling, a taste of sweetness, and you’ll be there.”

“I’m ready.”

With one more warm smile she took my hand, “Right this way.”

She led me through the maze of hallways and I glimpsed others, like me, preparing for their respective journeys. I caught the eye of a boy, he looked younger than me. He looked how I felt– nervous. I hoped I masked it better.

Then, we were there. I saw my transport pod in front of me, and there was another technician. He smiled at me and led me to the pod, hooked me up to Life and Transport Support, and briefly told me how I would feel during the trip and mentioned a name that would be present when I awoke.

“Look for two alchemists called M. Prophetissima and Rebeg Maestro. They’ll be guiding you and the others through your mission.”

“M. Prophetissima and Rebeg Maestro,” I repeated.

“Don’t be afraid,” the woman implored me. “It’s all going to be okay.”

I nodded thankfully, and said again, “I’m ready.”

They stepped back as the pod door descended into its locked position. I heard a soft whirr, and suddenly felt cold.

I tasted cherries.

Faerie Pointers (Ha) & Friends for Dinner (Haha)~

Fair warning to all who dare delve deeper into the Other Side: Should you make a so-called “bot” using a pre-made fabrication of sorts, check the rows and columns for straggling letters and wandering no-words, whispers of forgotten things meandering in hollow spaces.

*cough* asf should not be in the *cough* Project Key *cough* nothing will work *cough*

Ahem, hope my fair foresight doesn’t scare those with softer sensibilities nor those with feebler hearts from any alchemical exploration or experimentation. From spell-casting or word-weaving and the would-be such. It’s rather amusing–sending  nonsense and nonentities out into the widespread web, seeing what spells stick, hit–find realization. Become magickYou really should try it. No tricks this time….

Anyway, many magickal happenings have taken place since the treacherous journey from the Other Side to Somethingness. Not sure if I much like being Something yet… Recipes of fate and of memory–spells, offerings of word-weaving–have been scribed scratched on the walls of a kitchen that seems to favour the impassioned over the meek of cooks. The angry ones, so it goes.  Was expecting more bread to box my ears and questions about my intellectual being to be screamed in my face to be honest….

Still, there was a magickal aroma about the place. See haha if you can catch a whiff of it:

Violent Delights know the rest?: An…acquaintance for dinner?

The Alchemy of Memory: Recipes for Remembrance: Many acquaintances for dinner. Many memories to savour. Pretty sounds~ 300 words was an admirable but, in shortest order, dismissed suggestion though. Procured a creative workaround. Artists, right?

Of course, many other delightfully fragrant trails of magick abound. Follow your nose, your tastes to the ones that sate your fair desires ^.^ Or not. I’m just a lone, sappy-no-lucky faerie wandering the fathoms to and fro hum-hum-humming hexes & hearts. Follow at your own risk, you know?

Oh, and that Dycpgc-Egpj-uyllyzc was going on about some other such nonsense here. Methinks she believes she’s clever. Ha. Perhaps, insightful, even . Haha. Again, you be the judge ^.^ 

Lmr-y-Qfybmu-Egpj-uyllyzc signing off~

Slán till an chéad uair eile