Cassiel C. MacAvity


      In logic, given the statements that A is equal to B and B is equal to C, the solid deduction from there is that A is equal to C. However, while such will hold up on it's own, when an extra layer of reality is added, and it is stated that A is a dog, B is a beachball, and C is a cat, a dog will not equal a cat, especially when compared to a beachball.

      Of the following, I state that all have occurred in my personal experience, and that all seemed to be logically viable, but as it is mostly internal experience, I can offer little or no proof or evidence of occurrence for much of this. In this, A does indeed seem to lead to C, but I will admit that it is possible here that the dog is being led into the cat.

      I met the Rapist at a costumer's convention occurring over President's day weekend, 1994. We spent a lot of time after that in each other's company, but while lovers, it turned out that we could not even be friends. Her view of friendship seemed to be "that which permits me to make absolute, unquestioned, and one- sided use of another, until I and I alone should decide otherwise."

      I am a member of a Renaissance Faire historical recreation group which portrays a highland Scots clan of the 1500s. As I was in the group, and as she said she wanted to attend faires, the Rapist also joined the group, as did Emily, a friend of another member who has since gone on leave from the group. In the next few months, Emily and I became good friends. She was fifteen, at the time, and would force a smile of "fine!" when asked how she was---and her shoulders would feel like a bundle of rocks. Her reality is that she has breeders, rather than parents, and for all her incredible abilities of denial, when she would reflect, as she did to me on occasion, she acknowledged that all she has ever known from them is contempt---Just as I was at her age---so of course I was going to be concerned about her.

      Emily, in turn, didn't know what to make of the Rapist, so at one event she asked, point blank, "Can I borrow him for a bit?" the Rapist floored her with an instant "Sure; as long as you bring him back." The problem was, even if I was clearly involved with the Rapist and would stay with her---from my, and others, point of view---the Rapist evidently decided that according to her, as I seemed to be interested in Emily, not only would the Rapist continue to own me, but she would also take ownership of Emily.

      In time, I refused to put up with the Rapist's bullshit, but by that point, as befits a friend, I had introduced her to friends who were pagans, I had introduced her to the clan, and, lastly, as she was unemployed and we at my warehouse job could use a body, she was hired to work about 15 feet behind me.

      At that point, she had met and quickly clicked with Janice, the then fiance of a pagan friend, and, it turned out, had gotten her claws into Emily to the extent that Emily was chattel. For Emily, she was already familiar with someone considering her as property, and the Rapist also offered sex and chances to get out of the house.

      In exchange for that, in Emily's mind, anything the Rapist wanted, the Rapist got---even if it meant obliterating our friendship by announcing that she, Emily, wanted to talk to me at the Clan Christmas party for that year, then deliberately reciting a detailed list of blatant lies the Rapist had obviously fed to her. By that point, the Rapist had already begun to parade Emily about among the pagans as her "fiance", having proposed to her near the end of faire in a last ditch attempt to disrupt mine and Emily's friendship.

      In casual conversations, so that I think it can be given credibility, the Rapist had spoken to me of being able to do "Stuff", my phrasing, and that at one point the father of a friend of hers, who was the high priest of a pagan group, suddenly pulled her aside to relay a message of "Cut it out, you don't know what you're doing or playing with." Rather than ask to be trained, the Rapist's reply was that playing with "stuff" was the only way for her to learn what she was doing, so no, she wasn't going to stop. At another time, we were running some errands of some sort, and she seemed angry about something. I asked her what was going on and her quick response was "I'm getting a presence headache---someone's thinking of me, and when I fond out who, I'm going to kill him."

      Janice comes from a wiccan background, and her fiance, now husband, Jeff, was a member of a Greek pantheon oriented group which I had joined by invitation about six months before meeting the Rapist. When the Rapist and Janice met, the Rapist told her and Karissa, another woman at that particular event, about being able to do "stuff". Later, when I was getting a ride back from a faire event, she and Karissa talked about another event where Janice had been priestess of sorts, but hadn't really been able to manipulate the energy being generated by the group, so the Rapist and the friend were going to give Janice some training of their own.

      In the Greek group, Jeff had declared himself for the priesthood at the first event I had attended, a men's only weekend out at Point Reyes, which is when the priests of this tradition are created. As the one year waiting period was ending, and it was time for Jeff and the others to go back out to Point Reyes, Jeff suddenly called up DonJon, the Hellene High Priest. He told DonJon that Janice had announced that she was going to be present when he became priest. DonJon replied that, as Jeff and Janice were quite aware, this was a men's only weekend, and according to the tradition, Janice was not going to be present. Jeff replied that, then, he was not going to be showing up, so, no, he would not be made priest.

      About this time, Janice and Jeff started what amounts to a Greek bible study group. A little later, they announced that as they were true Hellenes, they were going to be celebrating a number of the Greek religious festivals, and, as Janice stated to clergy visiting from DonJon's group, "We feel that anyone in this house who wants to priest in this tradition may do so at any time." The clergy seemed a bit perturbed at this.

      Myself, I joined the Hellenes in September of '93 after DonJon had practically jumped up and down announcing "You gotta come hang out with us! You gotta come hang out with us!!" In turn, around January of '94, various events led me to concede, "Ok, I'm Buddhist. I seem to be rather nondenominational, and to at least attempt to duplicate the actions and experiences of Gautama, the historic Buddha, I'm going to be learning from California Pagans, not Indian Hinduists, but I'm Buddhist." DonJon's response when I called him up to announce this one was, roughly, "Cool, dude! Let me know how it goes, and I'll see you at the next event."

      At the last of Janice and Jeff's bible study sessions I attended, I and an old friend of Jeff's both had comments on the evening's subject, but both comments were of Buddhist origin. Janice vetoed both, saying "Let's stick to one pantheon at a time." I stopped attending after that evening, explaining to Janice that while such a series of meetings was a good idea, being a Buddhist at a Greek Bible study session was feeling a bit weird. What was also true, and I also explained, having the Rapist across the room with Emily kept on a very evident mental leash was also getting on my nerves.

      In late December, a member of the Hellenes held a fairly open ritual in Sacramento. I was invited---but it was a long walk---as were Janice and Jeff, who were going to drive up and then spend time with Jeff's parents, and thus not be available as a viable ride. I didn't hear of what happened until at least mid January, and from DonJon, but the ritual did not go off as planned. Janice evidently took that event as an opportunity to attempt a screaming takeover of the Hellenes, announcing that DonJon was doing this, that, and the other thing, all wrong, that one of the Hellene Priestesses was also doing things all wrong, etc. Evidently she was tossed out, as was Jeff.

      In February, was that quarter's Ye Gaskell Occasional Dance Society Victorian Ball, and Emily, a friend from clan, and I went. Over time Emily had been telling me of, among other things, meeting someone at some function and being told "Dear, you are mentally broadcasting in All directions, we're going to teach you all about shielding and stuff!" When Emily arrived at my house to pick me up, my general reaction was "Oboy, it's Emily!!" By the first quarter of the ball, my reaction to Very familiar events and people was; "Oboy, I've got oatmeal for brains, Why??!!!!"

      Emily "looked" around, and announced that no, nobody was doing an attack . . . Well, what about me? What did she see with me? "You've got No shielding at all, and there's a blank spot where you should be." The upshot was; give a call to Peggy, a recent newbie in the clan, a friend of a few years of Emily's who had been doing shielding and lots of such for awhile and had gotten very good at it.

      That same weekend was the final weekend before the start of the faire season, and the back of my head had been trotting out all sorts of what ifs about what was to be done about the Rapist and her de facto toy, Emily. Finally, about midmorning the Friday before the ball, the thought finally occurred of why not write it all up in a letter, including the belated realizations such as the Rapist's having Emily destroy our friendship by lying to me, and point out that as such had been her choice, not mine, it was to be the Rapist's responsibility to keep herself and her toy as far from me at all times as possible. When the decision to write was made, the entire warehouse seemed to glow as it became brighter! When the letter was dropped into the mailbox the next day, that happened again, and I seemed to lose a lot of weight that had been pressing down on me. In between, the writing of the letter was boring, but the doing was a good thing.

      The following Friday morning, the base of my spine complained, so I chose not to make it to the faire event, but when people were trickling back on Sunday, I talked to Peggy, and Wednesday, the following week later, I gave her a call to set up a meeting. She said she'd put some stuff together between when we talked and the meeting, and we picked the following Saturday, at two in the afternoon.


      Day one: Saturday

      March 25, 1995

      I arrived at Peggy's house a bit after two. She tossed me a crystal to play with and we talked. She explained that shielding was a matter of visualization, and did I have anything that came to mind? I did, actually, since I had been coming up with images of lighthouse glass in the time since we had talked. The glass was considered good, and I confirmed that I had an additional image of a lighthouse. Peggy explained that an additional defence with something of that nature was to opaque the glass or turn it into a one way mirror, making it possible for me to see out, but impossible for others to see and probe in. When it came to active attack and defense, however, I had an indistinct view of the edge of the mouth of some large energy beam projector, but not much else.

      After a while, though, the lighthouse was gone, although the glass remained. The glass panes, with the brass frames, that formed a 360 degree circle, were now the control deck of a spacecraft. Peggy had said that one's outgoing beams had to get through one's shielding without compromising it. I replied that this wasn't a problem, the shielding was clearly up "here" while the beam projectors were a few decks down in the same ship.

      The next exercise was to imagine grounding, the better to prevent getting fried by too much of some energy. Peggy told me to imagine standing, with a rope, some string, a bungee cord, Something, extending from the base of my spine down through the floor to the center of the earth. However, I shouldn't follow it down, that wasn't the point, but I should have it there.

      My response was that I was seeing a monk sitting crosslegged in a Zendo, a Zen Buddhist meditation hall. When Peggy complained that I couldn't be grounded if I had my legs crossed, I replied that I was seeing a monk sitting crosslegged in a Zendo. Oh, and he now had a large lead-like lump at the base of his spine. Oh, and there was now what looked like a silver necklace as if held by one point, hanging in a straight line, beginning at the base of the monk's spine, dropping down out of sight, with a electrical current-like pulsating running through it. Peggy commented that, yes, sometimes it takes a bit for the pieces to fall into place.

      She then had me place my hands and feet flat on the floor. I commented that even as the silver chain was still there, the monk was doing the same. She asked If I had figured out that I was the monk, and I think I replied that that certainly followed. I then commented that the monk seemed to have steady streams of dark blue liquid pouring from his arms and through the floor, extending on down to wherever. Peggy replied that yes, I was venting a lot of bottled up anger and frustration. Her analysis of this was from suddenly getting an image herself of, respectively, punching her husband and throwing a sewing project across the room. When I started seeing funny spots genuinely wandering across my eyes, she said I could sit back again, I didn't need to pass out doing this. When I straightened out, the monk did as well.

      By this point the Zendo was clearly part of a huge complex of some sort, but all I could see was the Zendo proper, floating in space. Peggy replied that the Zendo was my control center, the place in which I felt absolutely comfortable, and, as with the grounding of the monk, anything else would follow in course. Going back to the ship, the configuration was shifting again. The ship was a distinct whole, and now at the center of the ring of glass which was now separate. This ship itself was forming into the USS Defiant, from "Star Trek; Deep Space Nine", except as designed by Jules Verne.

      Peggy then decided to try a test. She was going to think of sending a beam out to poke at my shielding to see what would happen. I should---at that point I commented that I was getting a distinct impression of something blasting in from her direction, and had she started yet? She laughed; the barrage had begun when she had first thought of it, but she wasn't firing any more. I replied that I was still getting something. Peggy looked startled, then excused herself. Staring into space for a moment, she then announced "You, stop it now!"

      I began to get an image of a curved spaceship hull somewhere ahead of me, and I opened fire in turn, seeing a beam sear a hole into it. Peggy explained that she had a coterie of four goddesses, essentially a pair of interlinked mirror images, and a pair of gods, and that one of the goddess facets had decided to get into the act, but she had now stopped firing.

      I commented that I had returned fire, but had no idea of my success rate in doing damage, getting attention, whatever. Peggy reported a purred reaction of "Oh! . . . Interesting! . . . " I asked about the collection, and among other things, Peggy described a main facet as being a redheaded woman in black.

      At some point while we were talking, I mentioned recently getting occasional headaches. However, unlike the general ones I was familiar with, where I just hadn't had anything or enough to eat recently, and was getting hell for it, these were a definite pain above and behind the left eye. Peggy explained, that, yes, it wasn't a normal headache, that part of the brain involved personality and intellect---or something like that---and what was happening, and why the headaches would wander in and out so suddenly, was that someone was doing a deliberate mental bang on the front door.

      What comes to mind as I'm adding this info is that for a number of days running a while back---and I can't nail it down more precisely at this point---I would go to work and soon would have a splitting headache---and I seem to remember that was the headache's location. I also seem to remember telling the Rapist about this---making that time After I had met her---and explaining that this normally didn't happen. If my general memories are correct, and if the Rapist is as adept as she implied she was, given her attitude towards all around her, I now get the feeling that not only did she recognize the symptoms, but may have been the cause, in an early attempt to try and control me--- if I'm not putting together an entirely fictional two and two to add up to six!!

      Back at Peggy's, a little later, I commented that the hull was back, but Peggy's response was that it wasn't the redhead again, as she was nowhere in the area. Neither of us had any idea as to the meaning of the hull. As it was just there, and I wasn't picking up anything in an attack, I left it at that.

      Day two; Sunday

      Sunday, I had a number of errands to run and as I was wandering around, I would mentally switch over to the image of the spaceship. It would be floating in space, against a background of stars, and I would be watching over the bow of the ship looking out towards the ring of glass. By this point, though, the ship was now colored gold, instead of the original Defiant's grey-white. The ring of glass was the same, but was now starting to disappear off into the extreme distance, and when I switched to a side view of the ring and the ship, I saw a transparent globe had formed, extending from the ring, giving me shielding in all directions, instead of simply horizontally all around. With all of this, as I would walk around, ride the bus, whatever, I'd have this image, and a general sense of things being just fine.

      About 12:20, I looked, my mind suddenly generated an image of an incoming blast which was plowing into the glass. As I hadn't really been thinking of anything, or nothing I remember now, and as there was a set response to this, I shifted the ship to duck out of the way of the blast, fired at the beam proper, then turned and fired back at the source of the beam. I had an image of a pair of orangeish beams blasting into a hull, and once the details registered, I wondered about some sort of shielding for the opposing ship. I then saw a translucent bubble of something which was between me and the ship, but directly before the part of the hull into which I was drilling there was a hole in the translucency just a bit larger than the pair of beams, indicating I'd blasted through the shielding as if it wasn't there. As I didn't seem to be doing anything more than cutting into the hull, I broke off my attack and imagined the glass opaquing to black and the ship itself vanishing, then doing a vertical u, flipping up and upside down. There was a probing ray from somewhere, but I had vanished and moved, and watched it zip past me.

      About twenty minutes later, I had an image of getting probed with what looked like a beam of coherent fog. The glass at the point of contact suddenly materialized a huge T shape vertical wing which was used to sweep the beam away and in the direction of some passing woman. The thought with that was "She's cute, go follow her!" A little after that, the beam was back, and this time I opaqued the glass, and soon the beam was forgotten.

      I talked to Peggy that night, telling her of what happened, and her comment was that someone was rather surprised to discover that I now had some serious shielding and defense---no, make that offense---capabilities. I commented that the ring seemed to be disappearing further and further off into the distance. She warned against letting my shielding get too far out, and evidently, too far out to control, but my sense was that the even for the "immense" distance I was covering, the shielding was secure, and was, in fact, simply expanding to a natural distance.

      Day three: Monday

      I only worked a half day, but that turned out to be enough. From about eight, when I started work, to about eleven forty- five, when the lunch break was called, I was in near constant combat, with a short stop at the morning break time. I never had any ruptures in my shielding, no matter what the incoming attack, and seemed to have no problem slicing through opponents shielding, ships, whatever. Even with all the damage I seemed to be causing, however, whomever it was kept coming back for a new attack.

      The first half of what occurred was essentially sensing one or more malevolent bodies and getting attacks from it or them, or after awhile, just attacking on my own. The methods varied. Where beams were exchanged at the beginning, I would blast into whatever was attacking. Later, I noticed that the brass framing between the windows had sprouted spikes which extended up and out. With the shield ring spinning, these were used to physically rip into the bodies of whatever was "out there". Soon, the glass panes themselves began pivoting on their horizontal axes while the ring spun, thus serving as an even more effective buzzsaw.

      The second half was more personal, and all I can say of people seeming to turn up in this is that if what I was working with wasn't the actual people, or was simply my mind generating it's own imagery, what has appeared does seem to be the named people.

      The imagery this time was within corridors of sorts, as if hand to hand combat within a spaceship, and instead of somewhat impersonal beams of some sort, I was fighting Janice. She got the worst of the wear, getting beaten back, shredded in various ways, and at one point impaled on what I remember as a bed of writing pens.

      Once I left work, the combat stopped, and I really don't remember anything unusual for the rest of the day.

      Day four; Tuesday

      Tuesday was basically peaceful. Again at work, beginning in the morning, I started getting images of "something(s)" "out there". These were the same general blobs as Monday, but while there seemed to be occasional malevolence, no attack seemed to be made, so for a short while I simply noted their presence, or opaqued the shielding, and left it at that. Next, while there was no exchange of any sort of fire, the thought occurred to get really big---so I did that.

      After that, I was no longer placed at or just above the spaceship. Now I had the ship behind me, while I was up by one pane of the glass, peering out through what I could see from a side view was a massively thick slab of shaped glass. For much of the day from then, I had two or three blobs floating just off one pane. One of them was radiating red, which I picked up as being intense anger, and I would occasionally flip the pane on it's horizontal axis to reverse the magnification effect.

      As this went on, I would flip the glass back and forth, opaque it and not, and at one point, instead of a ship in the center of the ring, I had an entire spiral galaxy, which I thought interesting, but which didn't seem to last long.


      Day five: Wednesday

      As I recall, things seemed to be slightly off, but I couldn't figure out what. For lack of anything better, I opaqued the glass, and, occasionally, spun the ring around, but nothing was really evident and things still seemed out of place.

      I checked the Zendo, and the monk was still there, still crosslegged, and still grounded. And, somewhere about then, the Zendo had become one room in an enormous feudal Japanese castle. To look at various views, I switched the castle and the ship. Placing the castle into the ring in space, I noticed that it didn't just go far up from the ground, but it also extended below the groundline for at least half it's height.

      When the castle was back into the ground, I saw grounds of mostly sand, with a grey rock ring forming the outer walls. Also, between the castle wall and the outer wall, I saw what proclaimed itself to be Emily's Grave---but there was no headstone or such identifier, and it wasn't even a distinct mound of dirt, but it was Emily's grave.

      A little after that, while looking at more additional views, I noticed that the castle was absolutely empty. As I've said, I, like Emily, had breeders, not parents, was not permitted to have more than a bare existence, rather than a life, so I wasn't too surprised at the absence of what should have been years of fond memories.

      Also noticed was that I now also had a cathedral. Out past the main doors was green grass with grey stone walls beyond that. Also in the grass was, again, Emily's grave, also still indistinct. By this point I had a clear, though not clearly placed, sense of apprehension.

      As things still seemed out of place, but even the new locations seemed fine, I tried the spaceship again. After "settling in" and watching things, I noticed at some point that I was no longer centered on the ship, but slightly to once side, as if the operational bridge had shifted from being of the Star Trek Enterprise to being of the Star Wars Millennium Falcon. And, finally, I noticed that there were no longer any stars, that the ship no longer had stars in the distance, but was surrounded by billowing black clouds. Back at the castle, beyond the outer walls was solid white fog. At the cathedral, beyond the outer walls was more fog. Beyond that, I had no idea, work ended, and I headed home.

      On the way home, I checked around again, and the stars were back around the ship. At the castle, I now had blue sky, and I could see down a mountain valley. The cathedral was still wrapped in fog, however.

      When I called Peggy that night, I announced that I wanted to rattle off the latest occurrences, and schedule "stuff", part two, which got a giggle. However, when I got to the part with the grave and the clouds, she was very alarmed---someone was really pissed off and trying to blast through my shielding. The grave was not a grave---it was a tunnel through my shielding designed to attract me to the outside. We definitely needed to get together again, and we set a time for the next Saturday. For the moment, she would think about things, and would get back to me by Friday night or so with a list of things I should bring on Saturday.

      At midnight, a little before I went to bed, the stars went out again and the apprehension returned. At that point, all I could think of was that whoever was trying to get at me had to be pulling some rather long hours.


      Day six: Thursday

      When I got up, the stars were still gone and the fog was in place. Standing on top of the castle and looking down, I noticed that while the "grave" was still there, from that angle it looked like a shadowy, rectangular hole. So, I pulled the pin on a grenade and dropped it into the hole. There was a thump and flash and a loud unidirectional yelp.

      A little later, I tried dropping a firehose size hose down the hole and pumping in gasoline. Before the hole could fill, the gas ignited with a whoosh that was felt more than heard, a huge rising fireball, and an agonized yelp. Going to the cathedral, I tried pouring in kerosene, but then remembered something about kerosene not burning in the open air, being why it has been popular for tank fuel, in case of a damage caused internal leak. Adding more gasoline and tossing in magnesium, when all that went off with a pop, there was another loud yell. When the fire cleared, the hole remained undamaged, and now sprouted tentacles which tried to sweep in all directions and after me.

      Slicing the tentacles off at the edge of the hole with a broadsword, a laser, or both, I think I then lobbed in dynamite and concrete, for definite damage and to seal off the hole. As that occurred, the ship was suddenly surrounded by more holes, in all directions and, again, all within the outer shield. Obviously, if someone was creating holes that sprouted in a sealed three dimensions, four or more dimensions were being used. Things shifted slightly, and at that point, the entire ship, holes, and ring, seemed to tilt on edge, and as the angle hit ninety degrees, I was elsewhere, in what felt as being, or being at least four dimensions, and I was right next to the Rapist, who was obviously doing something. She screamed, startled.

      Borrowing from Heinlein's "Magic, Inc." I slammed her into a chair, tied her to it, slapped a gag in place, and when a timer materialized to be set, the first thing that came to mind was thirty-eight hours, which at six thirty a.m. would be eight thirty Friday evening. I sent her thataway at high speed, then, after some thought concerning relativity, wanting her pinned down, and the difficulty of moving all else at close to light speed while she remained still, I brought her back to the cathedral, put a bulge of rock into the cathedral floor, and sealed her in it, leaving a slit to see most of her face and her eyes.

      During this, I received muffled howls to the effect of "let me go!!!", to which I replied, "No!" After that, I checked the outside of the cathedral, and all was clear, blue skies, a sun I could feel when I was out on the ocean beach in front of the cathedral, and more of the same with the castle and the spaceship.

      For a while after that, I switched around looking at things. The grave hole was sealed, but was still present, even if I did now control both ends, and as I'm writing this, it's still there and probably will be until I can figure out how to get rid of it. When I would go "elsewhere", I would "look down" and see the three overlapped, with one hole tunneling through as a channel of solid red.

      As for "elsewhere", I could sense/sort of see a flat space for a limited distance, with framework outline buildings that seemed to be made of silver, silvery strands, but strands as if they had been set into place, given enough heat to begin melting, and as blobs started dripping down the strands, resolidified. What there was of sky was black, a blank. Unlike what had happened before, there were no impressions of analogues of me, such as being in a cathedral, or the Zendo and then the castle, or of the original spaceship. While they still existed, at a different place, when I was "elsewhere", I was myself, there in full. While I could be attacked, it could only be directly, hand to hand, or in one case, by swinging something at me that was actually there, not by using substitutes such as an attacking energy beam, as before.

      In addition, while I was now there and I could still sense the Rapist in the Cathedral, I could also sense others around me who also knew I was there. There was no malevolence, and in fact, as I played with the three locations, and the situation of being "elsewhere", being in four spatial dimensions, the general attitude I picked up was an amused "Look at the child/newbie/something of the sort playing with the buttons!" Except for flashes, and with stated exceptions, both of which I'll get to, I never got any sense of any particular identities other than "people".

      Sometime around then, either while "elsewhere" or in the cathedral, I don't remember exactly, as I recall, I thought of Peggy's redhead, possibly as an attempt to identify the others "elsewhere". What I do remember clearly is that a redhead in black ran in through the doors of the cathedral, past me, and into the main body of the Cathedral proper, which is where the Rapist was emplaced. I'm not clear about seeing anything, was facing the wrong way at the start, and I never got a sense of particular words, but the redhead got to the emplacement and screamed something at the Rapist, entire sentences about something, and from the Rapist I could get a definite feeling of "Oh, shit, I am in Very Big trouble!!!!" After that, the redhead skipped on out of the cathedral, having said what she needed. Knowing the Rapist, It immediately went in one ear and out the other, but I'll get to the rest in time.

      After that, I was aware of the redhead being "elsewhere" along with the others. Thinking of her would get a face of someone in her forties, no one I could remember seeing before, with a set of deep blue eyes, a somewhat stocky body, height a few inches shorter than me, and as I'm thinking of it, a general operating attitude of a hands on, special forces Colonel. I remember a question of "would you like to worship me?" to which I replied I'd take the suggestion under advisement. That got a laugh and a retort of "Imp!" and off I went to work.

      At work, everything was peaceful. the Rapist herself turned up. From there, either I was preternaturally aware of her starting that day, or there was actually something going on. As I've commented to Peggy, all this could indeed be the result of a rather overactive imagination---but with in it's own framework, everything seemed to hold together. That day at work, I was definitely noticing from sounds and such that where I would place a hand on a box or my table, she would slap a hand down. Where I would walk, she would stomp. And with that and seeming changes in how she behaved around me and others, it was as if she was thinking "I know that you have me, or part of me, sealed into place, and I'm not happy with it!" No, nothing was said.

      Sometime, beginning in the morning, as I was doing a cycle through the locations and "elsewhere", changes started turning up. For the locations, the other two were unchanged, but the castle was now inhabited. The inhabitants were period Japanese courtiers, full kimonos and everything else, and while the monk was a permanent fixture in the Zendo, and still grounded, when I would appear in the castle, usually in a general equivalent of a throne room, I would be at one side of the room, elevated on a platform though which I could see the sky and part way down the valley, and everyone in the room would stop and turn to look at me. The general attitude was that I was the lord of the castle, I had appeared in my proper place, they were in the proper places, and what particular orders did I have for them? But I had nothing I could say, even as they awaited for an address or command.

      A little later, I think in the early afternoon, "elsewhere", someone appeared in my face, very definitely present near me, aware of me, and intending that I be aware of him. At this point the image is fading, but I remember a Caucasian male, brown hair swept back from his forehead to his collar, clean shaven, wearing, as I recall, corduroyish dark green or brown trousers and coat, one being of the different colors, with a dark shirt of some sort, and dark shoes or boots. I have no memory of ever seeing him before, or in person, and in time, after a number of other events, I was aware of him being somewhere, but I couldn't see him. For lack of anything better, I'll call him "the first guy". And he was in my face for the express purpose of ordering me to release the Rapist.

      I said no. After all, she had been caught making an attack of some sort, and she was now duly imprisoned. She would be released after a time, eight-thirty Friday evening, but until that time, no, she would stay where she was. He wasn't happy about that, and remained insistent. I told him to go away, batted him away, whatever.

      A little while later, while checking around, a redhead had appeared on the beach in front of the cathedral, sitting, looking out over the water. I went over to say hello, and when I got to her and looked down, I looked into the face of the Rapist's friend, Janice, the wiccan and ostensible Hellene. The impression was that this was Peggy's redhead, who had run into the Cathedral, and who had Janice's face, and this was perfectly normal, and, though nothing seemed out of place, I didn't buy it.

      Lacking any better ideas, I went back "elsewhere" where I found the first guy staring intently at me, and the redhead, the real one, staring at him, rather pissed off. Clearly he had planted the image of her, albeit with Janice's face, on the beach for the purpose of causing trouble, probably still to get me to release the Rapist.

      There was a stalemate for a bit after that, and I would occasionally cycle through the locations and elsewhere as I continued packing and whatnot at work. Later in the afternoon, there was another occurrence which changed things some more. As I was at my table at work, images came to mind of the Rapist walking up to me in the warehouse and asking if she and I could talk about this, with her clearly aware of what was going through my mind, and wanting to talk to me about it. After a short while, the thought finally occurred that if one's major attention could only be in one place at a time, as seemed to be the case, if she was trapped in the Cathedral, how could she be loose in the warehouse?

      After the last occurrence with the first guy, the first place I looked was "elsewhere", where I saw him intently concentrating on something, clearly generating and controlling an image of the Rapist. I tiptoed up to him, got next to him, he didn't seem to notice me at all, and yelled "Boo!" He jumped, quite startled, and I seem to remember him quickly scuttling away, to the amusement of all around me.

      That struck me as odd. He seemed to be familiar with "elsewhere", had seemed to have been there long before me, but was such that I could startle him. So, if he was a bit out of place, then he had to have been assisted in some way, so, who was controlling him?

      At that point, I got an image of Five or more dimensions, and someone staring "this way" in a somewhere where he was against a background of shadow and some smoke, with a reddish glow from somewhere behind him. For the moment, I'll call him "the second guy". As I wished to continue working at the warehouse at that moment, instead of walking into the table or staring into space for lack of applicable attention, I didn't try to go "that way", and just noted that something was further elsewhere. The second guy, as with the first, was someone I really didn't recognize, also Caucasian, balding with wisps of brown hair above his ears, almost an upside down tear drop of a skull and face, an intense stare from smallish eyes, and a near permanent almost scowl. He too was dressed darkly, but there was less detail of what.

      Also about then, I noticed an extra layer of detail to all involved. Everyone, including me at various levels, had what seemed like a brownish, slightly grayish, columnlike growth extending up from the back of the neck, and about as the base of the skull down to the tops of the shoulders and as wide as the neck. This extended up and effectively out of sight and was the control mechanism for the next level up. I, in the warehouse, as well as "up" in the cathedral seemed to have one, both of which extended up to I at the "elsewhere" level. "Elsewhere", I had another which extended up further, but was not controlled by the second guy. Extending up from the cathedral, the Rapist's went up to the first guy, and his, in turn, went up to the second guy. As I thought about them later, the second guy has one, but it is quite ethereal, he's aware of it, and doesn't appreciate it being noticed---but I didn't see where it goes, and when looking for one from the redhead, I didn't see one, and got a definite reaction of her being rather annoyed at the thought that she could have one.

      Sometime around then, while "elsewhere", I decided that I wanted to sit down, preferably crosslegged, and either a low platform about six feet on a side appeared, or I just sat on one that was there.

      Sometime after that, a new location also appeared. At the same four spatial dimensional level as "elsewhere", I was in a room I now see as maybe fifty to seventy feet wide, and slightly rectangular. When I first saw it, and still occasionally, I was slightly off angled from the walls, looking towards the right side wall. The sole illumination is by the wall, from a pair of small candles from which I can always only see the illumination. The room is filled with platforms about six feet to a side, and each of the other platforms that I could see and also sense around me is occupied with football player sized figures, all bald, sitting crosslegged with their hands in their laps, wearing pajama like clothing, robe like clothing, facing the front of the room. The room is still and silent, and they are as aware of me as I am of them, but, essentially, we are there, there is no reason for us to interact. In everything about the room, there is a definite "what is, is, and what is not, is not", and I, in turn am there in the room, because that is what is. After I told Peggy about it, her reaction was to begin calling it the Bodhisattva room, since that is what all the figures of people in the room seemed to be.

      A while later, Saturday, I believe it was, I finally thought to square myself with the walls and face the front of the hall. As I did so, I became aware of a small platform at the front of the hall with someone there I have not seen, sitting, who is the master of the room. I was welcomed by the master as one who was in the room, and without remembering any words, through telepathy, or empathy, if nothing else, as was with "elsewhere", I asked what I should do. The master answered that I should sit, to the amusement of the others in the room, and that is what I do there. Mentally, I've got all hell breaking loose in some form of fashion, but physically, I sit.

      As for my size, I had multiple images. I had myself, ballet dancer body size, in the room, on my platform, but I also had a general shell image of myself as large as all the others, except that the shell image had one hand up, facing out and the other hand reaching forward and touching fingertips to the platform.

      Now, as I was writing about the neck extensions, the thought occurred to look for them in the Bodhisattva room. Myself, I have one, and the master has one, even if I can't see what Seemed to be a him, but it was quite a while before others appeared extending up from the other figures. What comes to mind is that as the responsible master of the room, the master would have one, and in turn, while a bodhisattva, to actually apply the label, would have eliminated most of any such connection to things, as a being of some sort, a tenuous connection of some sort should still remain until the bodhisattva cast it off, and thus, as a tenuous connection, would be awhile in appearing.

      Going back to "elsewhere" and while still at work, I still had the first guy insisting that I release the Rapist. Finally, to hold him in place until I could get some feedback of some sort, probably from Peggy, I pinned him down. Physically, I'd probably take a bit of doing before I remembered what the proper procedure is, but "elsewhere" the intent existed, and I faceplanted him into the ground and kneeled on him. One of my legs was pinning one of his down, with one of his arms trapped up between my legs. This way, he was immobile, I had my arms unoccupied, and all I needed to do to check his situation was to shift my weight, bending his arm some more, which would get a loud scream of pain. At that point, he stopped demanding that I let the Rapist go, and started demanding that I let him go. As with the Rapist, I said no. He'd bothered me, he'd been told to stop, he'd earned the penalty. Again, there was a stalemate, for a bit.

      What changed was the arrival "elsewhere" of the second guy, who demanded, in turn, that I release the first guy. When I refused, as with the first guy, the only thing the second guy could do to try and affect me was to forcefully get in my face. As with the first guy, I batted off the second, given that I had the first pinned down and had fairly limited mobility. The second guy kept returning, so after a while, I broke his arm and sent him off, hearing him muttering imprecations as he went.

      After a period of time, I had an impression of something travelling towards my head, and I ducked, just as a heavy weight swung past from behind me. The image that accompanied this was the second guy high above the surface of "elsewhere" and swinging weights from a supporting framework of some sort. I then "saw" the framework being shaken, and the second guy fall, dislodged from his perch, to slam into the ground nearby. Clearly he was disabled, the fall was fifty to a hundred feet, and he was no longer going to be a problem. I was wrong.

      In a bit, he was back, so I shot him. In a bit, he was back again, so I shot him again. At one point, I had a flash of a headache, checked at "elsewhere" and he was trying to get at me again. This time, the redhead was standing there, and thwacked him for me.

      For the moment, it was time to go home, so, on my way, I looked around at various things and approaches. the Rapist was still in the Cathedral, the first guy was still pinned, with the second hovering around, the castle was occupied and peaceful, and the spaceship was peaceful and surrounded by stars. The next thing I noticed was a big black painted metal door set into one wall of the bottom level of the castle. Off hand, I had no idea what the door was or what was behind it, except that it was sharply defined, and that I had a general image of it opening or being about to open, and that it was something to be concerned about, but that, unlike the "grave", it was definitely of my own creation.

      I talked to Peggy again that night, and rattled off the changes since the night before, and she commented that she was still thinking about whether or not I needed to bring anything Saturday. About the door, it could be something sealed off, but it could also be an accessway to my subconscious, with the built in assumption of who knows where that could lead, thus generating the apprehension.

      Before I went to bed, I wanted to do something more with the first guy than to keep sitting on him. What was coming to mind was that if one places two bodies of energy next to each other for a while, how will the two be kept separate in time, and I really did not feel like melding with the first guy, so I needed to place him somewhere.

      The spaceship and the castle did not seem appropriate, and the Cathedral was out, as that would be far too close to the Rapist. The Cathedral idea was good though, and so as I could see what I knew was the Southern Scottish coast from the beach, I went there and tried to have a second cathedral opposite the first, looking towards Ireland. A cathedral was not working, so I went with "something" and got a large, brick, open building with brick grounds out in front, if not all around. That would have to do, and I buried the first guy in the bricks in front much as I had buried the Rapist in the cathedral, with his timer set to release about fifteen minutes after hers.

      The second guy was still pissed about the general events, and still insisted that the first guy be released, but as I now had the first guy sealed in his own place, I could deal with the second in a bit more detail, and rather than pin him down, for the same ultimate reasons as before, I tied him up, leaving him on the ground "elsewhere" as I sat on the six foot platform, watching. It wasn't long, either before I went to bed, or sometime the next day, that I noticed he was on the loose again, but as he had first appeared in five dimensions, tying him down in only four was not going to be successful.

      One thing I did notice about the new situations was that I could not see the cathedral and the new brick building separately. I could stand on one coast and look at the other, as I had before, but when seen from "elsewhere", the two insisted on being seen as one set location, complete with the strait in between.


      Day seven: Friday

      Friday was somewhat uneventful. What did occur was an increasing feeling of something being not quite right. For lack of anything better, I looked around at things as I was at work. With the spaceship, I was again surrounded by clouds---and I could see stars---at the same time. The castle was surrounded by fog. The Cathedral and brick building were clear, but even if they had been fogged out by someone attacking, the distance was so great that I wouldn't see any evidence of it. Both the Rapist and the first guy were pissed off and demanded release, but clearly remained effectively immobile. "Elsewhere" was unchanged. The second guy was still floating around, but he wasn't causing any trouble that I could detect. The others were there, but what feedback I got didn't indicate anything being seriously unusual. The redhead was there, and was watchful, but wasn't going to take any action regarding whatever herself.

      After awhile, feedback from the others began to indicate that the problem was not another causing problems, but that somehow I was that cause of the trouble I was detecting. Checking to see how the redhead was reacting got more of the same, so I started checking various locations. The answer seemed to be in the castle subbasement, because the door now had blots of electricity rippling across its surface. I wasn't certain what was going on, except that the best guess was that the door was about to open. On the other hand, since there wasn't any external threat, I didn't worry too much.

      Later in the day, something was really off, and I wasn't ill or anything, but things felt very wrong, out of place, something. Things "elsewhere" were basically the same. The redhead was even more watchful than before, but unchanged. Remembering the door, I checked the sub basement again, and found the door was gone.

      Behind where the door had been was a corridor of sorts, much like a mine, with dirt walls and wooden support cross beams, but the beams were a bright green and the rest was white. I could feel nothing, but I could see what looked like green tracer material flowing out---but not across the floor, as if as a liquid. The trace wisps were curving out up at the top of the doorway, as if something clear which the trace material was in was venting out of the entire tunnel at absolute full blast. Whatever it was that had been sealed behind that door, there was a lot of it.

      As I left work, I didn't pay enough attention to the traffic going by, and missed the handiest bus. The obvious solution was simply to wait for the next one, which I did, but in the meantime, I began to be absolutely enraged. After a while the pieces fell into place. What had been behind that door, and was the cause of feeling out of sorts---and winding up with a hair trigger feeling of fury---was absolute, unadulterated anger, and it was just now venting after who knows how long.

      I caught the next bus, as expected, but as things still seemed off, and as I wanted to get rid of any additional old stores of such stuff, I started jumping around, trying to find anything that could be dumped. Suddenly, I was in a sealed, underground chamber. It extended for quite a distance, and down the walls, fairly close together, were door after door after door, exactly as in the sub basement. I cracked one of them open, and the door blasted back as what was behind it vented out. I cracked open another, and the same thing occurred. I could see this going on for days, so I then took all of the doors, and popped them open all at once.

      At that point, everything blasted forth, all that suppressed and buried anger, and as that main chamber was sealed, it had nowhere to go, the pressure climbed, quickly, and I literally had to pop my ears as I was riding on a perfectly ordinary bus. Lacking any better ideas, I made the chamber a part of an entirely different spaceship, one with bomb bay type hold doors, which I quickly dropped open so that everything could simply pour out.

      Once home, I sat with my hands and feet flat on the floor for a bit, to dump anything left over, and then started up my computer to check for email. As I was wandering around online, I kept checking things, to see how I was doing. Generally, I felt exhausted, not so much that I needed a nap, but rather that I had just been run through a wringer. Checking the sub basement again, the tunnel was starting to fade from sight, becoming just an indentation in the wall. In the chamber, a bunch of doors were hanging open, and while a number of others were closed, when I poked at them, the slowly swung open a bit, instead of slamming open, so everything had indeed drained.

      I talked to Peggy a little while later, by which time I was feeling much more energetic again, and she said to just show up the next day, and don't worry about bringing anything unless it seemed to really announce ME!!! On her part, as I had already outstripped her experience, she was going to have Beth, another member of the Scots, come on over, and bring in the heavy artillery. Included with that was the possibility of doing something about the Rapist and Emily. Evidently Peggy's specialties included healing and binding, and she and Beth had a spell they could use for isolation and improving, but I would have do provide the decision on that one.

      Day eight, Saturday


      I was picked up at the Bart station by Peggy and Beth, and on the way back to Peggy's, we stopped off at a fabric store to pick up stuff for a clan event the next day. I was doing an occasional general look around at things as time went by, partly monitoring, and partly seeing if there were any new developments.

      While I was standing in the checkout line, I was watching "elsewhere", and the thought occurred of playing with names. After I had gotten out of bed a few hours earlier, I had looked at the plain and a few of the Greek gods had been making momentary appearances. So, while I was standing in line, I decided to pull out the pantheons . . . . So, let's try "Jesus!!"

      Grey clouds immediately appeared around "elsewhere" and formed a cone, with what looked like a giant pearl far up at the center. By the time I got to Peggy's, the clouds lifted and flattened out, "elsewhere" had extended out to become a plain of marble, snow, ice, salt, something, with tall mountains of the same stuff forming the horizon, rising up to touch the clouds. The others who had been around me before were still there, and were still unseen.

      The redhead was still there, as was the second guy. In addition, what was beginning to come to mind when I though of him was Mara, "the evil one", right out of Buddhism. Peggy's reaction was that she didn't like the clouds and the pearl, that to her it meant that someone was watching me, but my impression was more of observant benevolence than any malevolence. And at times after that, as I would try other names, while I would get differing responses in time, the usual reaction was a flat echo, leaving me uncertain if they reaction is from an actual invoking of an actual Name, or whether my growing up in a Presbyterian church is causing echoes.

      At Peggy's, Beth and Peggy and I discussed stuff. One comment that came up was about the redhead. While she may have ultimately been the same as Peggy's, given the general description and actions I was giving, Peggy announced that my redhead had to be an Irish war goddess.

      As a briefing, I handed them a copy of the letter I had sent the Rapist, and asked if they could find any loopholes, problems with my logic, whatever, and not only could they not, but the general reaction was "this is a really sick person."

      At the same time, I explained that I was still on the mailing list for Janice and Jeff's bible study session, and told them of Janice's insistence, the last time I had attended, of "One pantheon at a time!" I then handed to them the latest newsletter, which was definitely approved by, if not written entirely by, Janice, which talked of the Greek gods Ares and Aphrodite. In a column discussing Ares as being not so much a god of war as action, first, there was a paragraph very deliberately borrowing from the Hindu scriptures, second, everything wrapped up with the argument that to hesitate is bad, action must be taken now! When the giggles died down, I announced that one spell each should be done, one for the Rapist, and one for Emily, as was so clearly called for!

      After awhile, Peggy and Beth started setting up, covering a table space with all sorts of paraphernalia. I was told I could do as I wished, to comment or not, as they went about things. Their attitude was that if one couldn't have fun with this, there was no point in doing it, and by no means were they going to start playing pagan puritans!

      As they started lighting candles, doing songs in four directions, etc., I started providing commentary. For myself, I was getting an image of a sort of room that I had never before seen. It was built entirely of wood. The roof was gabled, as if for snow, but there were no walls, the roof being supported on a set of pillars. Outside could be seen a forest at night, with a general impression of being somewhere in northern Europe.

      The floor space was lit, with people on it, moving about, standing about, doing whatever they were doing. I was seeing the room from the view of one sitting in a high chair at one end of the room, with those on the floor being aware of me, but not necessarily needing to pay any attention to me, as it was my job to be the one in the chair.

      As Peggy and Beth went about their preparations, one of the comments was "Now it's time to invite Mom and Dad." I accepted this as a basic statement, and had no particular thought about it. As they sang to invite "Mom", the general thought occurred of the redhead I had seen before, and I think Peggy confirmed that assuming the redhead wouldn't be a bad idea.

      There was a change as the started calling in "Dad". The song was to one called "Hoof and Horns." As they sang the song, I suddenly blurted out that I was getting an impression of someone behind me and to my right. Furthermore, in what became known as the ritual room, while I was still in the high chair, and the people on the floor continued with whatever they were doing, they would now take nervous looks well over my right shoulder with expressions analogous to "Oh, shit, now it's armed!!!" Peggy and Beth's comment was that fear was expected, and that I should say "Hi". Peering up and back in the ritual room, I saw a shadowed figure about 30 to forty feet high, with horns. I turned in my seat, waved up, turned back around, and I think I then announced "Ok, now what?"

      What now was the imprisonment of the Rapist and the protection of Emily. We discussed the details. the Rapist was easy. A large egg would be created, mirrored on the inside, to imprison her with no means of escape, so that anything she tried would then be amplified and reflected back upon her. In Emily's place, another large egg would be created, but mirrored on the outside, making it impossible to get at her. At the same time, a shunt was to be built into Emily's egg, to permit the venting of what the Rapist had done to her, letting her heal. In both cases, as the need for the eggs faded and disappeared, the eggs would as well. Specifically, should the Rapist remain as she was, unchanged, so her egg would remain, forever.

      Peggy's speciality was binding, and doing a good job of it, so she took care of the eggs. For each, she lit a candle, which would be left to burn down, and concentrated on the details. As she did so, I reported what I was seeing. As the creation started, I saw the pearl floating over the plain start to blast bolts of energy out over the horizon.

      For the Rapist, I saw her at work, at her table in the warehouse. As Peggy did her work, I saw an egg growing up and enclosing itself around her. As it occurred, I could see that the Rapist was aware of the whole thing and absolutely infuriated, but unable to do anything about it.

      With Emily's, this time I wasn't seeing her in any set location, but I did sense an awareness of the egg being created, but that was all, and she soon disappeared as the egg opaqued into a mirror.

      Sometime during the formation of these two eggs, I had an impression of a third egg being formed, this time around me. This I accepted, as i had no reason not to.

      Peggy announced she was done, and that the respective candles would be left lighted. As Beth and Peggy shut things down, doing the closing ritual, as before, I got no particular sense of "Mom" as the levels of the ritual were reversed. But as Hoof and Horns was told that things were at an end and he was free to leave or stay, as he pleased, the figure to my right rear did an abrupt about face and headed off into the woods. After everything was cleaned up, Peggy and her husband and I headed out the door, to get me home.

      On the way home, I checked various locations, including the eggs, and then suddenly announced to Peggy, "He's back." In the ritual room, the lights were dimmed, and the people on the floor were lying about, still. On the plain, however, Hoof and Horns had not only walked up behind me, off to the right, as before, but this time, had a hand on my right shoulder, although it was unclear if it was his right hand or his left.

      Sometime about then, I started getting images of an egg that had been shattered from the inside. As checks of locations showed that the Rapist's and Emily's eggs were intact, the best I could assume was that the shattered egg was the one that had formed around myself.

      Day nine, Sunday

      Sunday was uneventful. There was a Faire group stitch and bitch, and I attended to work on a leine.

      Day ten, Monday

      At work, I kept an eye on things, and pretty much just monitored. At my personal locations, all was calm. Watching the Rapist's egg, in turn, I saw the warehouse, with the Rapist imprisoned in her egg. She was furious, and kept banging a fist on the inside of the egg. While she was facing me as she did this, it was clear that she had no concept of anything beyond the mirror before her, and was simply attempting to attack the nearest surface. With Emily's egg, in turn, everything seemed peaceful, still, it just sat there.

      the Rapist herself had shown up at work, and nothing seemed out of place directly, but she did seem generally upset by something, much as if she had gotten herself into some situation and couldn't figure out what to do about it.

      Sometime during this, a thought occurred of creating a record of this, writing out everything that had occurred, not having to rely on uncertain memory. Wanting some feedback, I asked the nearest source at hand, whomever it was on the plain. The immediate reaction, from several sources, was an unequivocal "No, this should not be done." I accepted this, and continued on with the day.

      On the way home, there was a change. As I was most of the way home, I had a sudden blast of absolute, pointless rage. I seem to recall it involved what I have had of a male breeder, since father just doesn't apply, but there was no reason for this. I forget how I had figured this out, but the thought occurred that rage makes a great cover or distraction for something else, and as such, needs no reason, as long as the distraction works. In which case, as the Rapist was imprisoned and the first guy was nowhere around, as well as I could tell, then Mara had to be the cause of the attempt. So, what was it that he wanted to hide? What was it that I was not supposed to notice?

      For a while, I couldn't think of anything, so I tried checking the different locations. Still, nothing turned up, so I did some sort of mental throw the cards up in the air and reshuffle. On the plain, instead of me, I substituted The Batman, cape, chest insignia, ears, and all. Not only did this fit with everything else, but as The Batman, I jumped to being of the same height of Hoof and Horns.

      The next question was why? What is the meaning of being The Batman, and why doesn't Mara want it known? The next thought was that The Batman is a personification of vengeance---not revenge, but vengeance, being a tool with which to balance things. As Mara wants things out of balance, wants people such as the Rapist able to continue to prey on others, then he certainly would want there to be no tool of vengeance.

      Given this, I asked again, should I write this down? There was a different response this time, that as the tool of vengeance is doing the writing, it will be a testament, a record of that which has occurred, of good and evil, to be handled with care. Well, since repercussions were not a problem of mine, then it would be done.

      That night, I made a couple of calls to get some feedback. One was to DonJon, to see how things were, but, first, I called Geoff, my Bujinkan instructor. The Bujinkan is a feudal, pre- Tokugawa, combat form of jujitsu, and Geoff himself had encountered some interesting stuff over time. He had just had a rather long and exhausting weekend, so he got too tired too quickly to make it through the entire story, but one thought did come to mind. As I was talking, an image popped into his mind, one of a laser rifle held in suspension in a forcefield in a place that was not a place. At the time of need, the rifle would be available to the single one for whom it waited. His comment was that it was too perfectly a match of the sword in the stone to miss, but he had no ideas beyond that.

      Day eleven, Tuesday

      That day at work, the locations were calm, still. With the warehouse image, the Rapist was now slapping the sides of her egg, rather than pounding a fist, and crying.

      That night, I talked to Seamh, who replied that as a distinct unbeliever in anything of the sort, she thought the whole thing was thoroughly weird, but also that it was consistent.

      Day twelve, Wednesday

      That day, when I'd look at the egg, all I'd see was a little girl, almost a stick figure, sitting quietly, staring up out of the egg.

      Day Thirteen, Thursday

      By this point, the egg had only some debris and some energy which was the Rapist's. In the meantime, I had some rather weird stuff going on. A number of locations had a lot of fog, but there was no malevolence. The spaceship seemed to have clouds, but also has no clouds. The ritual room was both lit and not lit. On the plain, I tried to reach up to the pearl. I remember that earlier, I had been able to reach it, but this time it was out of reach. I tried to see the redhead, see her in my areas or in her version of Ireland, which, by that point, had begun to appear. While I could see her, all that I see of Ireland was a greenish blur. The warship seemed fine, but was blacked out, but rather than being surrounded in clouds, seemed to be wrapped in something.

      That night, I called Peggy and asked about it. The answer was that I had evidently shut down, as a protective measure. It wasn't that I was about to be attacked, but rather that I was about to blow a number of fuses, and needed to protect myself from myself. And, by the way, about the candles; Emily's candle took about four days to burn down, which was normal. the Rapist's candle, entirely on the other hand, had burned down to nothing in only a single night. Evidently the targeting had been right on the money.

      Day Fourteen, Friday

      Friday was uneventful; I was still shut down.

      Day fifteen, Saturday

      Saturday was a day for working at the computer, specifically catching up on the typing up of my notes. During that, there was a thought to the effect that the spacecraft was working fine, but there was a need for something new, and quickly the spacecraft became a space-going Russian, Typhoon class, nuclear missile submarine. Within a few hours, though, it seemed to be decided that even this was not enough, and the submarine became an original design interstellar warship.

      This new configuration was a circular labrys design, with multiple banks of Star Trek variety phasers and torpedoes and a cloaking device. In time, as things progressed, it became about 300 feet in diameter, small enough to land on it's own, but large enough to have eight torpedo tubes fore and aft, with replicator fed magazines, ensuring that there would be no shortage of ammo as long as there was energy for the replicators. The phasers were in vertical banks of three to each side, and ran from the bow to the stern. Dead center of the bow, above the forward tubes, there was also a phaser cannon, the same as that on Admiral Riker's command Enterprise, from the final episode of "Star Trek, The Next Generation". Ultimately, it became considered the Karma class warship; Vengeance.

      Around this time, the other change involved Emily's egg. the Rapist's egg stayed the same, but Emily's egg had seemed to pull away in view to be one seed pearl among rows of many, all embedded in a variety of green goo. By this point, green was seen as being the color of basic framework stuff of the universe. There was a meaning to her placement, but it didn't occur to me until much later.

      Sometime around this time, the brick building becomes clearer, and gets identified as being a foundry. I still can't really see inside, however.

      On the plain, as I recall, The Batman seemed to be, oh,, "too much there", doing more than needed. As a variation, I tried having The Batman sit crosslegged, much like the monk. That was fine, seemed much better. At that point, the plain was basically empty, so there was no danger of squashing any of the others while sitting.

      Day sixteen, Sunday

      Sunday was generally uneventful. I ran errands, took a nap in the afternoon, wrote up some notes, and when I tried to go to bed, didn't sleep all night.

      Day seventeen, Monday

      Monday was quiet. I still seemed to be shut down, and after work, I wrote for a bit, and went to bed around 9:30 or so.

      Day eighteen, Tuesday

      At work, about nineish or so, I got a sudden headache in the usual location. While looking around at stuff, I noticed that the foundry is becoming more detailed, albeit it's still shadowy as hell, and I'm definitely working on something, but I don't know what. The warship seemed to be fine, but something seemed to be going on, so I fired a general blast up and to the left, but I'm not certain there was anything there.

      I had an impression of Mara being around, but it wasn't very distinct. Barring that, I had a general feeling of being slightly tired, which wasn't surprising after being awake, if not up, all night Sunday through Monday. While keeping a general eye on things, various images and sequences wandered through my head, including the Dunsmuir games, which weren't until July.

      At Dunsmuir, I saw the Rapist, dressed in black, in what seemed to be whatever clearing it was that she'd dragged Emily off to at the time the previous Dunsmuir games when she'd decided to disappear and dodge me and everyone else. This time though, she had all sorts of ritual type paraphernalia, and was in the process of casting a spell to blast the hell out of the clan pavilion and anyone in it, presumably such as me. I was elsewhere, but was aware of this, and started trying to get back to the pavilion before she could finish beginning the attack.

      I was then at the pavilion, standing to one side of the front, when the attack arrived. I absorbed the entirety of the blast, which generally wasn't noticed by anyone else, stretched up, arms up, to return it, while faking an all out stretch, multiplied the energy, at least three times, I think, and fired back.

      At the clearing, the paraphernalia was the same, but it was Janice, in the same black, standing there as all the energy snapped back, there was a very bright flash of white, and she dropped to the grass as if hit by a stroke.

      The problem is that those scenario thoughts had just wandered into mind, without any particular conscious thought on my part, so after that, I pulled back to the plain. I was surrounded again, but not suddenly, as if they had been there for awhile, and when the thought occurred with me of "did that happen, or was it just me", the answering feedback was that it had indeed happened---but just then, not three months in the future.

      At that general time, something seemed to be going on, so I was looking around some more. On the plain, the figure of The Batman seemed out of place sitting crosslegged, so I had him, me, stand. That felt more right, and I had more of a sense of seeing as myself. In addition, I thought of trying to tap into the pearl, so I reached up, and this time, could get to it. And at the same general time, the thought occurred to check the ritual room, the one in the woods, where I found it to be completely lit up. Nothing seemed to be occurring, but the lights were on.

      Now, in the warehouse, right after the Dunsmuir images, the phone rang. As I'm usually the closest to the phone, I usually answer, and it was Karissa, asking for the Rapist. They talked about something for a bit, evidently the Rapist was being taken shopping for clothes, and she hung up. About a minute after that, the phone rang again, it was for the Rapist again, a voice I'd heard before, and this time I had a quick, albeit uncertain, impression of the first guy, the one who had been somewhat pulling the Rapist's strings and demanding her release when I'd imprisoned her in the cathedral.

      That time I caught general comments about her going to Emily's at four thirty or so, then going to his house, and something about whether or not Emily's breeders would let her do something, and then the Rapist went back to work.

      At that point, while watching stuff, I became aware of still being Hoof and Horn's height, but this time the others as post markers were almost the same height, reaching about shoulder level, and rather than the indistinct posts they had been when I first went to this height, they were now stylized obelisk-like crystals. At my personal height of just under six feet, the crystals started with an about six inch high foot square base, which then narrowed towards forming a pyramid which would be about two feet high. About halfway up the base pyramid, though, began the remainder, which were four sided, elongated diamonds, also no wider than a foot, with their top tips being about five and a half feet off the ground, or, about my shoulder height.

      Beyond that, what came to mind was that although there wasn't anything I could really point at, I was under attack, or about to be attacked, or something like that. As it was, I still didn't feel too energetic, so the thought occurred of tapping into someone or something. The bodhisattva room never came to mind---I think it's more of a place out of place. Hoof and Horns didn't even come to mind and wasn't even present. The redhead did come to mind, and I could now turn up in her version of Ireland, instead of getting a greenish blur.

      What I did then was to suck in a lot of power, and as I did so, I got an impression of the entire island of Ireland suddenly getting accessed and drawn from, of an enormous green blur suddenly going north. I then reached out, got to the first guy, and dumped all that energy. I got an image of him appearing to almost scream, his body bent back, feet off the ground, surrounded by a blast of energy.

      At this point, I have no ideas about effects, if any, on anyone I can walk up to and touch, but I will note that the guy who made the second call to the Rapist called her again after lunch and they had what seemed an intense and quiet talk about something which ultimately seemed to wind up more flirting than anything else at the end.

      On the plain, the impression of the crystals was that they were serving as both a sort of buffer and, as along with me, a conduit. At the same time, though, the energy level seemed to be dropping. I tried to reach out to the redhead again, but while I could get to her alone, this time there was a clear, vertical, flowing barrier between me on one side and her and her Ireland on the other. I tried to reach for the pearl, but kept drawing up short. I had an impression that I needed to do something, rather than let everything drain, so I faded out, becoming invisible, and that seemed to stabilize things. Once stable, I then . . . . somehow, albeit deliberately, . . . flared, and the plain went incandescent, as with the Dunsmuir images, but for a period of time, not a lightning-like hammer. After the light faded, things did seem to be at a higher, more stable, level.

      More looking around; Checking the barrier between me and the redhead, what came to mind, with her nodding, was that the barrier was not so much an attempt by others to cut off energy, as, instead, an insulating safety mechanism protecting her Ireland from me and whatever energy I had or didn't have. On the plain, extending from the tops of the mountains up to the clouds, there was now much of the same barrier as with the redhead's Ireland, but while it was the same sort of barrier, it was more of a boundary and marker than a shield. I still saw, felt, The Batman, standing, but the outer ranks of the crystals were broken and shattered, scattering out around their bases.

      My thought at that point was to find out if there was anything one did with such an occurrence, does that mean a "dead" crystal, a drained one, what, and what was it that did happen? One impression that came to mind was that it was my doing that had broken the crystals, and that the last flare-up wasn't entirely necessary, and I also tried to think of what else could have been done.

      In the meantime, in the castle Zendo, the monk was still grounded with the silver loop, but instead of sitting, was dancing. The thought was that the dancing it might be connected to the music playing over the stereo in the warehouse, but at one point when the music stopped, the monk kept dancing. My thoughts while watching the movements were that they were semi-stiff, stylized, Asian indian---the dance of Shiva, although whether the dance of creation or destruction, I didn't know. At this point, since nothing particularly destructive happened, I suspect the dance of creation.

      While watching things in general, on the plain, I was taller than I was when I arrived, the clouds above would shift up and down, albeit they aren't sending energy bolts over the horizon as they did when the eggs were created, but the mountains were the same height. My impressions were that they were definitely a barrier of some sort. Lunch was called, and I went to scribble some notes.

      After lunch, the monk was still dancing, and it was clear that it was not to the music. A Peter Gabriel album was playing on a CD player, and the monk refused to match the beat. Overall, there seemed to be a feeling of waiting for the next things to occur, but there wasn't anything in particular to watch. What came to mind was a large cat, just after combat, waiting, and ready for more combat. Instead of The Batman, I, as a cat of the same scale, then sat out on the plain, looking around, growling slightly, and for lack of anything better to do, I then sprayed in all directions. I don't remember the crystals being around, if they were, I don't remember any objections.

      The next thing that came to mind was trying to reach the pearl again, and as The Batman, I reached up and grabbed it again, this time feeling it as if through a gauntlet. The thought occurred that if it was up there, I should be, and I had it pull up, I had my feet lift off the ground momentarily, I stuck my head up above the clouds for a moment, and somewhere in there the thought occurred that if the monk was doing so well dancing in the Zendo, perhaps he should be on the plain, at the size scale I was at now.

      I, as the monk, then danced on the plain as I also watched myself, as the monk, dancing on the plain. I don't know what the dance movements were, but the dance was being done. In the Zendo, there hadn't been enough scale for much detail, but on the plain, the monk was bald, in his forties, somewhat Asiatic, with medium brown skin. He was wearing a brownish, grayish, dark, two piece gi-like outfit, although with no belt, since that is to display rank to others---and another can use it to strangle you. As the dance continued, if he was there and that size, it seemed So to see from higher, and that happened, especially since the pearl and the grey clouds were now gone. What was now visible was a bluish black sky seen as I looked up over the horizon.

      After a period of time, the I, as the monk, stopped dancing, and stood, waiting. At times, I was aware of looking far below at Hoof and Horns as he wandered around from spot to spot looking at what was at his feet. What came to mind was that he was wandering from casting of spell to casting of spell, in accordance with circumstance or deliberate call, and with such, while he was not indifferent to me, I just was no longer a concern of his. Also, sometime soon after the end of the dance, I had a sudden image of a very heavy pendulum in full swing towards a set target.

      Four thirtyish arrived, and we all headed home. I had been watching a lot go on, so once home, I dropped things, sat down, planted hands on the floor, and although the monk was out on the plain, there was still a ghostly sort of afterimage which did the same, and after maybe 15 seconds and a couple of very general wisps drifting off and down, I was left with a distinct feeling of what do I do now? So I sat up again, switched on the computer, and started writing up the day.

      Back on the plain, as I was writing, I became taller, and began to see over the mountains. Without the clouds, the mountain shielding went up a short bit and stopped, the mountains appearing to be small stubs. Beyond the mountains were more plains and mountains, basically testbeds, displays, arenas. Looking out at the other arenas I could see little clusters of posts---the "others" that were around me as they appeared in the other arenas.

      Looking out as I wrote this, I saw an ever growing curve of horizon. Off to my left, I became aware of something my height, which then began to approach, walking up over the curve of the horizon from it's section of the planet. There was some apprehension, but then I was being approached by something I'd never before seen, about which I knew nothing.

      Between my feet had been small points, dots, what have you, and while I could sense slightly that there were others around me again, there weren't any more details than vague energy clouds--- presumable the approaching someone, now arrived, in detail as a form of many in one.


      At that point, the warship still was. The castle still was, albeit the monk was not in the Zendo, even if a huge section of silvery loop was passing through it. The foundry still was, although work paused, something was being worked on. The cathedral still was, and now had a scribe. Although he was a tonsured monk in brown robes, he wasn't celibate. In the ritual room, it was both dark and lit up. The bodhisattva room was, with a complete collection of bodhisattvas, although from the master's point of view, one of them often had a pair of pointed ears sticking up. In the warehouse, the Rapist's egg was still sitting on the floor, although I really couldn't see anything inside, and I had a general thought of something being inside.

      I got larger and larger in relation to a shrinking planet. My fingertips got larger than the plain, and, after a while, the planet went away. Looking out, Something was out there, some of which awaited, and I wasn't making out any definite details . . . .

      Later, I was "standing" in space alternating between the monk and The Batman. I was feeling a general all over tingling, and yes, I had just eaten, so it wasn't lightheaded hunger. All the locations and times were overlapping; all the same place and simultaneous. Mara was about, but while he stewed, that seemed to be all. I had gotten a couple of flash headaches, but the impression seemed to have been more, Where the hell have you gone to??!!!

      As I was going to bed, I remembered the playing with names, so I tried it again. Jesus got a ripple, but so did Allah. Since the respective doctrines are different, there seemed to be something other than the "usual" religious interpretation going on.

      Day nineteen: Wednesday

      Today, it got weird. I took notes through the day at work and later wrote them out.

      In a number of introductions; if the monk was doing a dance of Shiva, it might at that point have been the dance of destruction. As stated, like Emily, I had breeders. Unlike her, I had been free of their immediate presence for awhile, or I would not be doing the things I had been doing. The breeders and I did keep in touch---they were covering the grocery and medical insurance bills.

      However. After what I had for my memories, and what I know of other people's memories, and both my and other's reactions to the comparisons, I just did not ever have parents. Given the situation and probably requiring a fat lot of money or a sudden, subsidized, move, a general plan was to write a detailed letter, such as the one sent to the Rapist, outlining the past, pointing out the problems, and pointing out that they were on their own, at which point I disappear.

      My analogy was that like others, I deeply regret my misspent youth---but unlike others, I never had any chance to do any of the spending---any of the rare attempts were crushed. I'm not like them. I'm not going to hunt them down and make them miserable, and etc., that's the way they chose to exist, that's what they did to me, that was not the way I choose to live, any such attempt would make me as them.

      At this point, all I had was one big pair of debt markers. Money will not recompense me. Pain will not recompense me. Unless I am greatly mistaken, I am owed at least twenty years of basic existence, from at least age eight, nine, ten, on, to do with as I, and I alone, please, to cherish, to use, to waste, to live, within a family, would be nice, whatever; To have that which I was denied. Does this accounting sound plausible?

      The problem, of course, is that the time is spent. They have no way to pay their debt, their karma is sealed, and all I can do and remain myself, is to cut them loose. Does this accounting sound plausible?

      As I arrived at work, the general situation was unchanged. The only exception that comes to mind was that I noted that Hoof and Horns was back in the ritual room, behind the high throne, with his hand on my shoulder. My notes seem to imply he was back in both the lit and dark ritual rooms.

      At the time I was writing the notes, he was gone, but it did seem that things could be occurring in cycles then, especially as much of this did occur most when I was around the Rapist. At one point that evening, I had just swallowed a pair of potassium tablets, and either they were incredible fast acting or I had a serious placebo affect going, because while tenuous, he was back, first in the lit room, then now the dark room, and at the other locations, I was being welcomed back to my own locations.

      Relatively soon after work started, I received visitors at the cathedral. The visitors arrived in a horse drawn coach, inquired of myself and the cathedral, and departed, and left me with no idea of whom it was.

      At five after nine, I saw Janice at the Dunsmuir clearing, I drew power in from the redhead's Ireland, fried Janice, and bowed to the redhead, who bowed back. This was the totality, and took about thirty seconds, maximum.

      Going to the monk, there was an energy bubble of shielding, although I still had no idea what else was out in the darkness, or where I was.

      I got another sudden, localized, headache. Except; Those headaches which I've learned to associate with Mara, the Rapist, and company, weren't intensely painful, but a sledgehammer does come to mind, plowing into the front of the area. That one, that morning, was new, as if someone was at the back of the particular area, and prying away with a pair of tweezers. What came to mind was a benevolent, albeit painful, "Hello, can we now get you properly wired for this stuff?" My left cheekbones seemed to twitch in sympathy, as if the sinuses were being fiddled with. I decided at that point I would give Kaiser a call the next day, and see what else might be going on.

      When I did go in, my doctor gave me general expression of "I don't believe what you're telling me and that you are telling it to me!!" But, later, he also commented that he takes a rather mechanistic view of things. I told him that that was fine, because of the headaches and such, I wanted to see if there were any neurological problems, which there weren't, everything was fine.

      Back in the occurring events, the insulating shield was back around the redhead's Ireland. I got the impression that sudden drawing was ok, but no more than once a day.

      I got Egyptian images. Not Nassar and Soviet tanks, but the name Anubis, and the inside of a large operational Egyptian temple, of a wall on my immediate right as seem from near the roof, with pictographs going off towards the facing wall a good distance away, and dusty light slanting in from the left. The offer was of Lots of available, drawable power, thousands upon thousands of years worth. It was not so much that they wanted me to do things, but that I was growing, and I offered a release for some of that power, with some of the stuff I've been doing. All I had to do was pick a target, wait until it got fried beyond a crisp, and shut the power off. There was an impression of, no the power was not inexhaustible, but the anticipated draw got more than offset by what came back in each day or such period of time. There was a quick image of frying Janice again, and of the first guy recoiling---he'd been fried, thank you, he didn't want to play. Someone with the head of a jackal was on the beach, visiting, the local delegation, as it were.

      General thoughts wandered through of the Rapist being at the upcoming clan meeting, asking if she could talk to me about what's been going on. I turned to Peggy and asked for suggestions, as the thought had occurred of just handing the Rapist the entire pile of notes and letting her read, and, furthermore, as she was involved, why not choose a "neutral" location, and meet at Peggy's . . . and invite Beth, for more backup---I mean, because she too was involved.

      Before the visualized meeting, there was a call from Peggy of "Cut all the references to the Egyptians." I did that, and there were concerned thoughts of how good an editor was I. At the meeting, that editing ability was brought up. and while things were kept general, with no names, the Rapist---and her people, since, being "general, random," thoughts, the one visualized probably wasn't the Rapist---then knew about the Egyptian alliance.

      The Egyptians appeared on the Cathedral beach, complaining. I pointed out that I was still learning that stuff, something which they knew. The offered help of their own, an infusion of sorts. I declined, wanting to grow on my own, and as the long run values a pure growth even if the short run may see it unable to succeed on it's own.

      Besides, if they were attacked, if they cannot overcome, then they were not capable of functioning at that level, and, besides, it was a good opportunity for them to brush off their cobwebs! They laughed, and agreed.

      The question occurred of who was in the coach? The name Cagliostro cames to mind, along with a head wearing, and tipping, an Elizabethan middle class hat. The next question was that was it the original Cagliostro, or an identity, and there was a grin to confirm that it was present day and an identity.

      Another odd matter was turning up. When I started working at the warehouse, I had Fridays off, and when I added them back in August, there was a general proclamation of "Oh, you're working Fridays now? But that was back in August. That week, I had been waking up in the mornings, being very happy that it was the weekend---no waitaminnit, there was another day in the way first.

      After lunch, I returned to my table to be asked what I was doing there on a Friday. I pointed out it was Wednesday . . Oh, so it was! She had kept thinking it felt like Friday.

      Speaking of Friday, the next thing that came to mind was wandering into the store "Ancient Ways" with Peggy and talking to the someone behind the counter who was someone I'd met just before and at a convention. He repeated a warning he'd received of beware people who seem to be doing things with time . . doing things to be hurting people . . I told a simple version of the Dunsmuir attack, from July back to the time it actually occurred, and who was it who warned him? . . He and I wrote on pieces of paper, exchanged, and we'd both written Janice's name.

      What came to mind was that the Egyptians were old, out of much past time. Where I had thought of Dunsmuir having bad associations from memories, Janice was working from there in time, appearing to be in July. There was something going on involving time . . . and in the foundry, it was now declared that what had been under construction for the last several days was an honest to god, intended to be functioning, time machine.

      Janice was pissed and appeared on the beach. She wanted all of that stopped, Now! I didn't really have a back door that came to mind to throw her out of, or a front door, for that matter, but since others did know the way, I had jackal head and the redhead carry Janice out.

      A deduction cames to mind, let's give Peggy a pop quiz for when she walks into the clan meeting; Which one in the room was a vampire? And not necessarily feeding on blood. Ultimately, though, the Rapist never appeared at any clan meetings.

      Thoughts of combat came to mind. why?

      Thoughts of my doing an attack on Emily came to mind. No!

      At the Cathedral beach, I slammed the end of a staff into the sand and a red crystal at the top flashed and blasted through whomever it was who suggested that, Janice, again, coming to mind. I had never before had or seen the staff. The flash was seen all the way from the foundry. The redhead applauded, and the Egyptian was politely impressed.

      With a time machine in my workshop space, my mind started playing with the grandfather paradox. If you go back in time and kill your grandfather before he had children, then, in the new timeline, no children were born, you never existed, you never went back in time to kill your grandfather, he had children, and the new timeline was destroyed before it was created. In my case, the ideal would be when I was seven, and would leave me with a particular set of memories from before that, but with a different life after that, which would probably parallel this one, but be a life, more than just existence.

      In the meanwhile, for years, my occasional colds had always been some sniffles and even less coughs. Every few years, for a couple of days, I would get the shotguns---a loud noise was heard and there was a stabbing pain in my chest. Yes, recent occurrences, like basic age, could start changes in behaviors, but recently, I had gotten a case of the shotguns that lasted for a good week and a half or so before disappearing. And today, as the grandfather paradox presented itself to be played with, the shotguns appeared out of nowhere. Accompanying them was a sledgehammer variety headache, and I checked the beach again. It was Janice, whom I simply clubbed down, and then I drew power from Egypt and fried the hell out of her.

      I asked the Egyptians if they had seen her, and they reported that she had just been trying to get at them after the last time I'd had her thrown out.

      What came to mind was that the Egyptians came in to provide time, knowledge of, and such, as they go back so far through it. What I'd been doing all along, for example, and on the other hand, had been to work with space.

      There was another sledgehammer flash headache, I went to the beach, and that time an arrow slammed through whomever it was. The arrow, it seemed, was fired by a Greek archer. So, if one Greek was here, what about others, and those above them? At that point, I saw a cluster of the male Greek gods on the beach, watching a display of military maneuvers. Where were the women? I got an impression of several of them around, but more sensed and felt than seen. The tweezers headache was back for a moment.

      Over in the foundry, Hephaestus, the Greek creator of tools, stuck his face out to look outside for a moment. It was he who had been building the time machine.

      In the meantime, the afternoon break was called, and, going into it, the assumption was that no, there would be no sending of a corporeal assassin back in time in a noncorporeal time machine to commit an impossible assassination.

      After the break, Hephaestus announced that he agreed, it couldn't be done. Except that the announcement was coming from behind a mask. If Hephaestus wanted to say something, he would have, and wouldn't need a mask. The only one who would need a mask would be one who wanted to deliver false information and be mistaken for Hephaestus---so someone thinks that the paradox could be solved.

      I quickly solve the paradox, and the answer is to go sideways in time, deliver information, and the assassin is someone from that timeline, who is acting to preserve what for him is the only existence. As nothing corporeal is needed, a noncorporeal time machine is used, and when I get started over at age seven, parallel development would call for my repeating the same general experiences as I had been doing for the last several days, but probably at a different time. When I'd reach a certain stage of development, the memories would be dumped into my brain, along with the knowledge of what to do and how to do it. Again, in that instance, and ignoring Star Trek's favorite plot device, as the best way would be through a noncorporeal jump, the logical choice would be causing fatal accidents through equally noncorporeal magic, rather than trying to physically go to and exist in an earlier time, with it's inherent difficulties.

      More info, from on the way home . . . The monk was still in space, but had been reclining more and more, and was now encased in armour of steel that was a foot or more thick. The time machine would be done in a few days, probably by Saturday or so. Cagliostro's involvement was to provide the designs. Delivering the designs for a time machine after work had begun did make sense for a time machine, but a more clear version came to mind of Hephaestus doing the hardware and Cagliostro providing the designs for the software----which got another acknowledging smile from Cagliostro.

      I didn't know what would happen from here. What seemed relatively plausible---just try and define the nature of time--- was that while the corporeal body would be left holding the fort, once the information was delivered and the assassinations complete, the entire corporeal and all timeline would collapse back 24 years, to then move forward again from there. But I had no idea.

      Peggy had no idea herself, and proposed to pop through my shields on Friday to see for herself what was going on, which could be something else entirely . . . .

      At that point, having talked to Peggy, I went to bed.


      Day twenty, Thursday

      The notes began; "Already!", from before work, I believe.

      The thoughts that occurred were waking up from a week's coma and greeting Peggy with; No, it didn't work, in the other timeline, I had a full life, but I never got the second set of memories of that timeline, and thus came on back here.

      There was an image of a mask nodding excitedly; "Yes, that's right, you've solved it!"

      Problem! . . . If I never "awake" in the other time line, realize that from the other point of view, there was a concurrent time line which must not exist for that time line to exist, then I never go back in time to defend the existence of that time line, and that time line never exists and I never had a life in that time line in which to add or not add a second set of memories.

      I thwacked the mask. Everybody laughed. I had a general impression of it being Jeff, Janice's husband, behind the mask, but it was a Very general impression, and that deduction just doesn't seem to add up.

      Later, at work, "there was much sound and fury".

      Someone appeared on the Cathedral beach earnestly arguing that the time jump shouldn't be. He asks; Why were the Greeks assisting in that, I.e. what do they got out of that? The earnest one was then shot dead with a Greek arrow. I asked why he was silenced, and there was further silence.

      There were ambiguities there. Lacking an answer to the question, the matter of whether or not to go through with all that seemed open. At the same time, I saw a young woman who seemed happy at the earnest one's death,----but she looked an awful lot like Janice might if you subtracted a good twenty or thirty years. If he was agreeing with her, why would she be delighted at his death?

      For the first question, the Egyptians comment that they, themselves were in favor of the proposed mucking with time lines as I would provide much power later, and comment that the Greeks were involved for the same reason, but were embarrassed to seem so venal.

      For the second, what comes to mind was that the earnest one was actually from the time line other than this one, that he was trying to subvert me, ere, by trying to prevent the other time line's creation. He was, of course, subjecting himself to the grandfather paradox, and was doomed to fail, but in the meantime, Janice, being territorial, and actually thinking that all that was---including all that I or anyone else would do and create--- was her personal property, and resented the earnest one as being a trespasser, and never mind why he was actually there.

      A sense of waiting continued.

      The warship now had a bluish swirl off in the distance.

      The castle was at battle stations, with archers, including Greeks, on the walls. The ritual room was lit and busy. The warship had more bridge detail and some crew, and there was a thought that the time machine mechanism was to be installed in the warship.

      The warship seemed to be floating off of Earth, with the blue, what was now identified as a vortex, up ahead.

      I was getting an intermittent headache behind my left ear proper, instead of forward, as such had been. Now, had a lot of that just been related to an ear infection? I was going to call Kaiser for an appointment, and got images of not just my doctor, but trying to explain recent events to an accompanying gaggle of medical students, most of whom were scribbling "this is SO weird!" I quoted from the movie "Little Buddha", where the father says, "I don't share your beliefs." or "I don't believe any of that.", or something like that, and the monk to whom he's speaking cheerfully replies "Why should you?"

      Just before lunch, I finally noticed that the warship was now surrounded by all out black---there weren't even any clouds that time, and it wasn't not like the earlier protective insulation when I had shut down.

      I called for the medical appointment. The nurse announced that my doctor will be accompanied by a resident, who will discuss the case with him.

      A lunchtime checklist; The warship---still blacked out, and the bridge was busy. The castle---Battle stations, and the command area was busy. The Cathedral---Things were humming. People not seen clearly were zipping back and forth, at least one Greek female wanted to flirt, but there was the problem of how my cathedral corporeal body could physically interact with someone who was there as a body of energy. The foundry---was uncertain . . it seemed busy, but not busy, perhaps as work was starting to also occur elsewhere. The ritual room---was lit. The Bodhisattva room---was peaceful.

      A little later, looking from the warship, the vortex was very bright and closer, up and off to the left, and the Earth was unseen, hidden by the black, but I could still detect it down to the right.

      A bit before the end of work, I noticed that not only could I see the foundry from the Cathedral, but the separating water was only a small inlet of sorts---a large chunk of Scotland and Ireland had gone wandering off to meet each other.

      "Now"; as I was writing, that evening.

      The ship was almost into the vortex, Earth was not really anywhere about.

      The positioning kept flickering about, whether they were facing, or side by side, but the castle and cathedral were on the same patch of green grassland which was uncertain as to whether it was Scotland or Ireland. Those who had been on the beach were somehow present, even though there was no longer a beach. The interior of the foundry seemed to have become the warship's engineering section. I was getting a headache, just inside my head from my ear, but higher than before. In the Cathedral were a Lot of people, many standing still, waiting, many brightly colored Greek robes, but also others who weren't clearly seen, if present, and others who were consulting furiously, and some of the latter two groups were mixed.

      The Batman was sharply defined in the Bodhisattva room. The room was peaceful, I was tense, but otherwise not at all out of place.

      The ritual room didn't have a lot of people, and was cold. It was brightly lit, and Hoof and Horns was sort of behind me, sort of not.

      The castle had two wings of buildings that had been hinted at before. There was now a clear force field outlining everything, and the archers had arrows in their bows, with their bows drawn and pointed out, including towards the sky.

      The monk was aware, alert, and lying back in his armour.

      That last sentence had begun as a typo; The mink---a combat art dojo I'm a member of is called "the happy weasel" dojo; minks are related to weasels.

      the Rapist's egg in the warehouse was present, solid, and empty but for what was left of the Rapist, debris and some energy. Emily's egg was still the bright one among two or three bands of seed pearl sized eggs set into a band of green jelly-like stuff. I saw an extending pod of energy, outlined in a net-like grid of black, trying to get at Emily's egg, but it was being repelled. There was much anger and frustration radiating from the grid.


      I talked to DonJon. His reaction was; Very Jungian . . . He thought that at the very least, some sort of major psychological buildup to a breakthrough was occurring. It could be an actual switch of timelines, which could be dangerous, but then I'd be changing my own line, and for only about 24 years, for whatever may occur, or, the events could be a fulfillment of all that had gone before, a filling up of the empty spaces, and I sensed resistance to that, because there were So Many empty spaces . . . enough, possibly, to generate a story about alternate timelines . . . In the cathedral, that idea brought silence. Hephaestus was too busy in engineering, and the Bodhisattva room was not involved.

      At the same time, with either analysis, after I read to DonJon all that had been occurring, I saw, and told him of seeing, a Greek god figure on the bridge of the warship, standing by and behind the command chair as I was in it. The figure was in red robes, and wearing a red theatrical character mask. The mask could be because it was not a god, but someone wanting to be seen as one, or it could be a shield for, not from, those around. And then it was that the god was Zeus, and it didn't matter whether there was a change in timeline or a filling of the empty spaces, when he took off the mask was when there would be completion.

      DonJon brought up The Who's "Tommy", which he'd had playing earlier, and the scene of breaking through the mirror . . but I think I had already broken through my mirrors. I had thoughts of sitting down with the Rapist and discussing stuff, but the thought lead nowhere, and the follow up thought was that she had to do the changing, there was nothing for me to do.

      As I was playing with names again, Zeus kept turning to look, the cathedral people kept rippling, and someone "beyond" said "What??!!" Since that was making Zeus appear to be an automaton, did my mind simply need a voice "beyond" to keep up the mental adrenaline? Or was there something beyond I had yet to grasp for which I was creating images? Cagliostro smiled.


      Epilogue, and addons . . .

      Tuesday, July 4, 1995

      Circa July 15, or so, 1995

      The ship seemed to leave the vortex in time, and there were no changes detected. As far as I can tell, while there is a sense that a time machine is still built into the engine room of the warship, the grandfather paradox solution was never carried out.

      Quite a few weeks went by after the events listed above. I didn't do much checking of locations and such for a while, and when I would, things would seem slightly distant. At the same time, though, a few other events occurred which had their effects.

      Sometime in April, I finally realized that Emily is dead, and has been since the middle of November. the Rapist had never succeeded in destroying our friendship; given that Emily had run over to see me and give me a hug at a gig in Reno at the beginning of November, that was the last time I saw her alive. When I next saw her body at a party in Oakland, Thanksgiving weekend, even though the Rapist was in San Jose, any response was limited, distant, because there was no longer anyone in the body to really make anything more than a rote response.

      Soon after that, I met Elizabeth, and spent a lot of time with her for a couple of weeks. After some weird occurrences at the beginning of the two weeks, the thought occurred that she could use an egg of some shielding. This thought was while I was standing at a bus stop, on the way home. This time, without any songs, casting of a ritual circle, anything, I could see an extremely massive, completely spherical, externally mirrored, shell forming around her, which was embedded in a wall of green gas when it was done. Later, when at home, I was having dinner when I thought it would be a good thing if the house I live in could have the same shielding---and just about in mid mouthful, I saw the house, from above, being surrounded by a huge, thick walled egg, mirrored on the outside. And while I had no objections to the egg, I preferred to wait 'till some other time than the middle of dinner, but that egg just would not stop forming. Very quickly, while looking up towards the sky from within the egg, and looking down from the outside, I soon saw the same black grid unsuccessfully trying to reach into the house. Lately, even with the house shield in place, I'm also seeing one around my computer.

      When I talked to Peggy later that night, she confirmed that it was indeed possible to generate very solid shields for people even while standing at a bus stop, and she had no idea why Elizabeth got an armored sphere in gas when Emily had gotten a seed pearl among many, in green goo. It wasn't until later that I plugged my realization of Emily's death into the eggs, where Elizabeth got armour because she was alive, but, really, the one place that comes to mind where one will find bodies quietly placed in row after row after row, much as with Emily, is a graveyard.

      Peggy said that the god on the warship bridge isn't Zeus, it's Kronos, his father. DonJon's reaction was that between the mask, and the red of the robes, it could be Dyonisus, wearer of masks, or Ares, god of personal combat. A friend of mine says it's me, but then I keep seeing him behind the command chair as I am in it.

      At the end of May, I was a member of registration staff at Baycon, a local science fiction convention. At the same time, the Rapist showed up as security staff, with Emily's corpse in tow being claimed as being general support staff. Given that the only times "Emily" was seen that weekend was when it was in it's usual position of subservience of no more than five feet or so from the Rapist, and that the Rapist was seen without it a number of times, "Emily" was probably stashed in the Rapist's room the rest of the time.

      During the weekend, a number of different people reported having some really strange dreams, dreams that usually never occurred. Myself, I had two.

      In one, I was at an Elton John concert. I went backstage, and after arriving, saw myself in a full length mirror. I was in white, with a pale white face, and with either white hair, or a white hat. Soon, someone attacked me, with a punch, as I recall, and I sidestepped and counterpunched the person. There was a two tone electric bell, and there was knife slicing at my midsection, chest area, in the hand of another. Again, I sidestepped, and smashed the arm, and then the person, and then the first person attacked again, and the sequence continued in a loop until I woke up on my own.

      In the second, I was in some sort of living quarters of a large building. The impression was that they were my own, but that is not certain. The ex-husband of the Rapist's associate, Karissa, announced that we should get going to "the show", and we began walking to a different section of the building.

      That different section was an art gallery of sorts, and as I approached from the back entranceway, I saw someone trip and go plowing into one of the shelves of pottery, beginning to send everything flying. I was then further into the room, and could see the set of shelves from a different angle, where a second person was crouched down and easily caught the shelving at it began to collapse, and in turn triggered the collapse of something else, which a third person corrected for, and so forth.

      It was then a few minutes later when someone major entered the same way I had, the first person tripped, the important person practically had a heart attack in shock, as intended, and then realized that it was an elaborate practical joke, also as intended.

      I was then outside, on the sidewalk, and was talking to someone I never had an image of. I was telling of the major person and the practical joke, and the person I was talking to asked if they could meet. We then entered the building by way of a coffeehouse, and once in, my companion started sprinting through towards the back of the building. Soon we were running through a maze of stacked up tables and chairs, and as we reached some central location in the maze, everything switched from full color to black and white, people were present in greater and greater numbers, and, one at a time, all, including myself, began to recite random sentence fragments, After that, again, I woke up.

      I have no idea who the two major people in the second dream were, but a thought did finally occur for the final sequence in black and white. Borrowing a thought from a short lived TV series called VR5, the black and white sequence never occurred; it was a cover for something else following the maze run which wasn't supposed to be remembered.

      More recently, as I've been checking locations, the warship and Castle seemed to be fine, and the cathedral seemed to be fading out of existence, as if it had ceased needing to be. As I'd check the warehouse image, and the Rapist's egg, things seemed to be ok.

      Then I noticed something odd about the warehouse picture, that it looked like a picture, and i could see the clamps holding the picture in front of my mental camera. Now, when I look at the image, the clamps are gone, and it is the warehouse. But now, in front of the Rapist's desk, there is something, but the egg is gone. As with the attempt to get through my shielding, what is there is proclaiming that it is indeed the egg, that everything is just as Peggy created, but I've seen that fake before. How it was done, I don't know, but the egg was destroyed by someone, and what was left of the Rapist has been released and, no doubt, rejuvenated.

      About a couple of weeks ago, I checked various locations and found that the cathedral had returned to very sharp definition, but things seemed odd. Inside, I was the only person present, and outside the cathedral was an absolute, nonstop downpour, with so much rain pouring down that I could hear the sound of it from inside. The castle was fine, but instead of the mountain pass and the valley beyond, all I could see was a solid, unbroken white. With the warship, it was at the center of a sphere of unbroken grey clouds. Someone seemed to be present out there, but nothing seemed malevolent, and neither I nor Peggy could figure it out.

      It wasn't until this last Monday that the thought finally occurred of White out, White noise, Whitish clouds . . . I was being jammed, by someone very thorough and sophisticated. I quickly received a sense of a second person watching things, and when I tried to probe at the clouds, they would glow with a rather indignant blue. At that point, in the warehouse, the phone rang. It was a call for the Rapist, and it was the male voice I'd heard before. She faced away, and I couldn't hear much of anything, but the call was a short one. He said something, she slightly giggled some sort of response as I recall, and quickly hung up. What came to mind, out of all that was a call of "the Rapist! . . He's finally figured us out!"

      By that point I was pissed off. I see no point in any of the crap I have been going through, and would rather appreciate it stopping. When I talked to Peggy that night, I pointed out that this had been continuing for several months, and that her main response after the initial few weeks was that I should learn to see auras, and if they didn't appear immediately, then I should wait and be patient. Problem: Someone isn't letting me wait, and I'm out of patience. Peggy agreed that maybe going offensive might be a good idea, and she would do some research.

      In the meantime, I began a steady barrage into the clouds, and even combined operating features to fire phasers from the body of the castle and the cathedral, to the evident anger of my attackers.

      Thursday or Friday or so, I suddenly saw a large bulbous device in one of the holds of the warship as Hephaestus laughed his head off. It was his new weapon, and since I hadn't known of it, I hadn't given it any thought, and thus my attackers knew nothing of it. It wasn't so much a bomb as a deliverer of poison, radiation, whatever, and it was ready to launch. While whoever it was had been jamming, panicked, I fired it at the clouds, and it blasted into the being beyond them, ripping in, spewing stuff as it went.

      Very soon after, the rain stopped at the cathedral, to be replaced by fog, the castle finally saw sky again, and the warship was again surrounded by stars---except for one large yellow-orange sun, which was first noticed as being directly overhead.

      In the meantime, I've been noticing what I have been calling a slight bit of vertigo, without quite being dizzy, and this comes and goes, but often while an attack seems to be occurring. At work one day, I suddenly got a knot in my lower left rear neck, which I never do. Going into the break room for the morning break, I told the redhead: "You have ten minutes to fix the problem, I'm going to sleep." When I woke up, the knot was gone, the redhead had an air of a job completed, and the attackers seemed to be pissed. Another time, sitting at the beginning of break, I had a distinct sensation of someone pressing in on the sides of my head, which has also never before happened.

      As a part of my small faire Scots group, I am, or my character is, a knight of the independent crusader order of St. John of Jerusalem. Included in the oaths a knight takes is to protect women and the defenseless, destroying those who would attack them, and to assist in the protection of Jerusalem from the Infidel. While "Jerusalem" and "Infidel" can cover a wide variety of missions, the protection of women and the defenseless certainly is clear, and Emily would certainly have fallen into both categories.

      Recently, an army of crusaders has appeared. They are everywhere. They are on the bridge of the warship, they are training in its holds. They are in the castle, and serving as guards upon its walls. In the cathedral, there is a single line, standing against the walls, their swords out, resting, points down, vertically before them. And they are all angry that someone is attacking one of their own.

      Now; the attacks have been occurring, and I fight them off, with the poison device, or without, and they continue some more. I keep seeing a sun, in very close proximity to both the cathedral and the castle, and often near the ship. It seems clear that someone is watching, I think I have figured out who, why, and how, and I don't like it.

      Again, this is pure speculation, I do not have a certainty, but the puzzle seems to fit the pieces.

      After the Rapist met up with Janice and Karissa, Janice and Karissa started introducing her to a number of the local pagans, the general group from whom Janice drew the members of the dubiously Greek study group when she caused her and Jeff's departure from the Hellenes. Beginning in September or so, and according to Karissa's husband at the time, as the Rapist soon wasn't able to get me into bed anymore, she began sleeping with quite a number of any available pagans, including Karissa, with the husband being used solely as their shared cock.

      Sometime around then, she met up with someone I don't think I have ever seen, the occasional voice on the warehouse phone, who I think is "the first guy", Mara's agent, the one I sealed into the foundry. The husband's comment near the beginning of May was that the Rapist had stopped sleeping with the pagans, and was now only sleeping with Emily's body, presumable using clan and other events as cover to get past Emily's breeders. From what I know of the Rapist, this is extremely unlikely---she's far too fond of very regular straight sex.

      What seems to make more sense is that the reason she was unable to have as much effect on me as she would have wished when we were together was because she was too weak, too untrained, too unfocused. Soon after faire, however, she met the first guy, and is now sleeping with him as he teaches her more powerful ways of doing things, doing things to people, dominating, and psychologically destroying. With this training, soon after faire, Emily was her first kill.

      At Valhalla, a recent faire at which the Rapist, "Emily", and the Rapist's sister made their first, albeit for only a few hours on Sunday, appearance of the season, they disappeared out of the faire area after lunch. About mid afternoon, the sister reappeared, looking thoroughly frazzled. Given that, an occasional phone call from the warehouse, what I know of the Rapist, and given that the sister is approaching 18, approaching nominal independence---which, to the Rapist, is anathema---I think the Rapist intends the sister to be the next kill.

      At San Louis Obisbo faire, SLO, I briefed one of the last people who hadn't heard any of what had been going on and began to detach from everything. Coming home, from SLO, things began to change, and different situations would have happened as I monitored things over time.

      First, In the warship, I have become the figure in red, as I am sitting in the command chair. over time, the warship has become indistinct, but then something new occurs, and it snaps back into focus, so I suspect its existence is a matter of need and ability.

      While on the way home from SLO, the castle became what looked like a Tibetan Buddhist administrative palace, sitting on top of a mountain.

      That Monday, the strait between Ireland and Scotland was back, and the foundry was absolutely empty and no longer the warship's engineering section. Soon after that, the cathedral changed, becoming more like a castle, more of a fortress, while otherwise appearing to have the same purpose as before.

      Tuesday, the mountain rock went from grey to steaming black. Soon, the mountain started flattening out as the palace became a polygonal citadel, tall, but squat, with sloping sides. Inside, there was a round, vertical shaft extending down out of sight and lined with green rectangular stones.

      The foundry had a new construction, something made of loops and thin slabs joined at angles. it started small, then filled the entire foundry, then vanished. The impression I got was that it was for simplifying communication between several places.

      The citadel seems to be an anchor point, a very large, permanent ground. The foundry is a construction site, and I'm not certain of the cathedral. The warship is for war, but now I need offensive capabilities, so it, too, may change soon.

      Peggy and I are setting up a meeting for the near future. She finally agrees that I need to have offensive capabilities, that I need to be able to attack at will and in detail, and not just wait for someone to come up to me and harass. I'm not feeling inclined to become like the Rapist, and mindgame people on a regular basis, but then I never was.

      However . . . . . .

      I seem to have been under attack for some time now. I have lost a friend, and a woman I loved is responsible, and seems to be responsible for or thoroughly connected to this series of attacks. Right now, I deal with what seems to be a recurring series of attacks. I have and reenforce the shielding as required, keeping the strait fully in existence, as its disappearance seems to be a defensive maneuver. Myself, I anticipate no problem attacking in return, of hunting without mercy, of making an end to all of this, whether she is the target, or those around her, or those beyond her.

      It is time to end this incessant mindgaming, and I look forward to my next phase of detailed training . . . . . . .

(Email to Catie, who was to visit the evening of the harvest ritual)

      What Do the civilians do for entertainment?


      Assuming you've read Mindgame by now;

      Yesterday, the warship was travelling through some huge structure made of wisps of blue fog. Vger, from Star Trek 1 came to mind. Everyone was at battle stations, and Hephaestus was at his station in engineering.

      The cathedral and citadel, while shielded, had skies with the same sorts of wisps, but in red.

      Earlier, the citadel grounding shaft was draining huge amounts of something; watching it was like watching the anger from the castle, complete with telltale green wisps showing direction of flow, down the shaft, being a ground, but this time, the anger wasn't mine.

      Yesterday or today, a look at the shaft showed it clogged. Everything was clear, but there's no movement.

      This morning, while packing the books, my mind would wander around at random, but then it would conjure up scenarios of people I know, usually from faire, declaiming enthusiastically how improper I and the situation are . . . regardless of holes in such an argument, and brushing off any "what about" comments to the contrary . . . . my ex uses "logic" that way . . . .

      There was a scenario thought of your trying an experimental ritual, or, from the point of view of past this next Tuesday, having already tried an experimental ritual; put up an absolutely blocking wall between her and I, and extend the blinding effect to anyone who might be used to get around the wall. Cut to being at faire, where my ex's boss was exclaiming to me; "I can't see you!!!!" You're there, I can touch you, but . . . ." Someone else, in turn, someone effectively neutral, had no problem seeing me, auras, etc.

      Within about an hour, looking from the citadel, and seeing some separate location, I could see a large brick wall in actual existence. Also in that time, I noticed that where my ex usually just places boxes on the conveyer line to be pushed down to the computer, she was suddenly slamming the boxes down the line as hard as she could push them.

      The redheaded goddess type is around, but that's about it.

      A scenario appeared of being in a ring of people, sitting around a fire, I think, and someone I'd never before seen announces that where everyone else can see auras and such, she can't see me!!! This should not be!! Does she know the ex?

      Why yes!!!!! She's wonderful!!!! A fantastic person!!!!

      My response to the others, and then to her, is; "Methinks the lady doth protest too much . . . What poison do you bring for the porches of Mine ears?"

      I think she left very soon, or that particular place went away, or something, since I wasn't swayed by the protestations . . . . .

      After a couple of hours, I could see bricks missing from the wall. The warship, in turn, was surrounded by a globe of absolutely black clouds with a glaringly white sun at one spot in the globe.

      In the afternoon, I got some flash headaches and the "heartburn", and by 2, 2:30 or so, I had knots for shoulders. My ex got a call from a voice I recognized as being an intermittent caller, and there was a long, detailed conversation. (Another, ah yes . . . The holes left by the missing bricks were quite blue, rather than shadowy brick. By the time of enough tension for some reason to knot up my shoulders, the wall had been smashed out, as if a great circular object had plowed through, leaving an edge of blueish broken briks, where the bricks at the top had dropped from lack of support.)

      After the afternoon break, the redhead was quite agitated, I'm not to look at things, I do not want to look at things, she's waving her arms around . . . .

      The cathedral has been trashed. Most of the roof is gone, the doors in front and the stained glass windows in the rear have been blown out. The outside coastline and its trees, grass, and beach, have been blasted down to bare rock. There is no longer a beach slope, the sea now begins at an immediate drop-off. Hoof and Horns was standing by the remains of the cathedral steps when I first looked, he'd never before turned up there.

      The foundry is only a bit chipped, but it was only an empty building of, and surrounded by, brick.

      The warship has been trashed. Things still function, but there are casualties, with funerals, and a lot of physical damage. Hephaestus is doing repairs.

      Looking at the citadel, it is undamaged, but where there was a bit of drainage for a few minutes, finally, when a object is released over or near the shaft, it doesn't fall, but sits in midair, or, midstuff.

      A new building has appeared. It's black, it's huge, a great squat square at least a couple hundred feet high.

      I'm on a throne, up on a dais, with my back to a wall, or I'm up on an outer corner, looking out and around a light brown desert plain, with grey rock mountains in the distance. So far, the sky is blue and clear. The room with the throne is rectangular, with at least a couple of hundred feet to the narrow sides and an equally high ceiling, and I can sense there is still a good two thirds of the building behind me, maybe more. Hoof and Horns is holding station forward and to my right, mid way up the slab steps of the dais. I'm in armor.

      Of those who floated in and out of the cathedral and such, there is a sense now of everyone for himself, and for now, my presence and vicinity are just a little too lethal to risk. Hephaestus is somewhere around the building, but that's all I can tell. "Reaching" for the redhead and her version of Ireland, all the shields are at full armor strength, and all I can see is a flowing grey blur. I'm not surprised.

      Flash headaches have been occurring intermittently.

      The thought occurs of an intent that either I should not be attending faire this year, or that I should not be meeting with my friend this weekend, or both.


      On a more cheerful note, a cousin has started his own internet access provider company, and wants my money, and so by the time Tuesday rolls around, I may just have a new account to play with!

      Temujin Mac Avity

      The big black building is a hall of judgement. Pluton comes to mind.

      No wonder no one wants to visit!!!

      Although I did see a couple of Egyptians appear off in a corner for a moment . . .

      My friend has asked me to do some meditation and visualization exercises before we meet. We shall see how it goes.

      Temujin Mac Avity

      Answering two notes at once, Catie and Melissa; Thank you for the response. Acceptable feedback includes "You're loony!", "My God (your choice), you ARE under attack!", "Uh, I'm really not certain of your use of commas.", and, "Etc." Unacceptable feedback, while tolerated, would have been No news is good news.

      For Melissa's comments;

      The furthest I have ever gotten in 'fantasy' images has been to run---or watch my mind run---scenarios of maybes, which sometimes give me a What If guide, but which are all very clearly recognized as Internal Occurrence Only, and, This Never Actually Happened---especially when I, or the rest of I, can lean back, look at the scenario, and comment that one thing or another is extremely unlikely---which has happened.

      When I went in for the main medical checkup---and a couple of weeks later, to have a recurring foot pain unsurprisingly explained as an already corrected bad choice of footwear---in both cases the reported non foot symptoms were greeted with "We can't find anything, even the lab results say you're fine."

      As far as telling what energy is coming from whom, directed how, I have no idea. I'm told by "Peggy" that I'll seen auras after a while, but I have to take her word for it. Right now, I see what is stated, and am otherwise left going "ah . . I dunno . . "

      As far as "interesting" internal things occurring with more and more time, right now there seems to be a stalemate, with my point of view indicating that something is thataway, but as long as it's not thisaway, there's nothing to do but wait.

      As far as mood and physical and mental well being, I was puzzled and then pissed when the cathedral was receiving a solid downpour, but, in general, it seems more a matter of visiting a location, then making deductions, decisions etc., "out here", not in. If I'm doing something else, then I'm concentrating on it--- remember, I work in a warehouse, there's not a lot to think about, and all this only began After I started working with Peggy.

      As far as realtime connections to the real world, the only solid connections are as reported in Mindgame and in the email, but then, since I definitely am "out here" that's why I keep adding disclaimers.

      As far as time spent "thataway", sometimes "I" won't go. "Peggy" asked me to meditate, trying to further develop imagery abilities by trying to go to a set location and feel surfaces, hear things, smell things, feel the heat of a sun, but while I have felt heat at times, when I tried to actively do something, the most I managed was a swipe at a wall behind me. I was very clearly sitting in the break room at work and not anywhere else.

      As far as things learned in the imagery, all I can think of is I'm observing not quite physical interaction. Yes, a lot of combat has occurred, but with real life knowledge and training is the realization that combat is adrenaline, if that, and not testosterone---if a fist approaches your face, get out of the way, and repeat as required. As far as learning from the Bodhisattva room, I have no idea what, it's just a place of people in meditation, and should a grenade appear in their midst- --which it wouldn't---everyone would duck, and little else.

      Regarding Catie's comments;

      Yes, a major portion of this could indeed be just me. I do see myself undergoing a lot of changes. On the other hand, I have several people who have read and heard of all this, and their reaction is that these are actual occurrences from the outside.

      A therapist such as you recommend could be a very good person to talk to, we shall see. Right now I don't see an indication of go or not go.

      There is indeed a difference in me because of "the Rapist" and the (now 17) fifteen year old. However . . . I've had lots of exes of one variety or another, and have never had this reaction, none of the exes has gone on to affect others with as extreme an effect which has also been observed by others, i.e. having such an effect on a personality as to destroy it, with another aside from myself stating afterwards that something is indeed wrong.

      My exes boss at faire has stated "I'm told this sounds like just a bitter ex-boyfriend", but quite a few others at faire and not have returned with, to paraphrase, "Yes, you're pissed, but, this isn't like you and there's far too much else going on."

      As far as the anger over various things, and dealing with it, there have been different situations and reactions. In many instances, there has been a blast of rage, with a definite thought of "This is ridiculous, there's no reason." With the image stuff, I have never been able to "see" thataway and go "I wanna kill!!" I have only been able to see "something" and react to it, or not, as the case may be. And as I stated in the email the purpose of the wall was to cut off anything associated with "the Rapist" and see if I can get some peace, while at the same time the accompanying "scenario" had "Peggy" standing near me announcing, "I can see him just fine!"

      As far as continuing to work with "Peggy", she's quite willing, but when I was working with her this last Sunday, we hit some problems. Following her instructions to try and set up a form of radar for incoming stuff didn't work, and an apparent attack occurred at that point. Her suggestions were of some help, but ultimately there was something which I could not get rid of, and which could not get at me, and there was no anger, just an impasse---and "Peggy" announced, "I don't know. You need combat training, I've never done combat, I'll ask around." My solution was to ultimately see if I could "become" the final attacker, and I "saw" myself as that, being forced off by myself, and in making that part of me go away, the attack finally vanished. If this works in the future . . we shall see . . .

      Anything else? Anything I may have missed?

      Temujin Mac Avity

      Oh, yes, now that I think about it . . . . .

      Melissa's comment that "the Rapist" seemed to disappear after her egg was created, and a lot of other things then took off, makes sense . . for a bit. I forgot to plug in the tactics at that point.

      "Peggy" is evidently Very good at shielding and creating shielding, and once fully created, an egg should only dissolve from inaction---unless another destroys it from the outside.

      I have always had to concentrate on "peeking thataway", hence day to day reality does take precedence, and thus my surprise to "peek" one day---and find the cathedral destroyed. The same with going back after awhile and only then noticing that the image of "the Rapist"'s egg was too fake looking.

      It would have been quite tactically unsound for "the Rapist" to get released and then immediately announce "I'm baaaaaccck!!!!!" A thought occurs that if my mind really wants to just play with itself, an image of her should have turned up again a long time ago . . .

      With deduction, and concurring feedback from at least two friends, "Peggy" and another, someone is giving "the Rapist" her long delayed training---and it's black, not white. This person did indeed get her out of the egg, but things were left at a subtle level, until this last Sunday, when I was at "Peggy"s, working on defense stuff.

      Something came over a set of walls, it would not go away, I shifted locations and situations, and got a large room containing only myself, in person---and "the Rapist"---as she was very actively circling around to find an opening through which to attack.

      The game continues . . . . .


      Catie . . . . Tell me of your recommended therapist . . . fees, schedules whatnot---and somehow I suspect this person is Not conveniently attached to Kaiser!!! If nothing else, I can go in for a psych version of the med checkup and see what turns up.

      Temujin Mac Avity


      Final notes . . . . . .

      projected anger:

      I have been in situations where I was enrqged---but for no reason. So, where is this coming from? . . .and I would "see" a projector aimed at me which I would then need to negate or destroy.

      I have worked the Cherry Blossom Festival every year for the last ten years. The first time such a realization occurred, I asked of its origin, and then had an impression of absolute rage which continued at full blast---but which then went past me, not into me.

      becoming the probe and turning it around:

      There would be times when i would "see" something peering at me, and I would become it, and follow it back to it's origin. While I did sometimes have a sense of encountering people, this, however would only lead to some other point, and I never had any sense of being able to reach out on my own.

      methods of ritual:

      Some people are happy waving a dull knife about while chanting . . . I would just be waving a knife about, and get nowhere . . . . staringing into space and making pictures and associations, however, Now THAT works for me . . . .

      As of 9/15/95, I Don't get staged locations anymore . . . I see flashes of stuff, black clouds, blue sky, but no landscape, or, at one time, unnameable standing with a ring of people in a brightly lit room.

      Currently I've been getting physical sensations, muscles tensing up, indigestion which isn't, and so forth. Things are occurring, but i'm still trying to figure out how to manipulate and use . . . .



© 1997 Cassiel C. MacAvity