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  • #7951

    Disgruntled and bored with the fruitless wait for the other characters to reveal more of themselves, Amy started staying in her room all day reading books, glad that she’d had an urge to grab a bag full of used paperbacks from a chance encounter with a street vendor in Bogota.

    A strange book about peculiar children lingered in her mind, and mingled  somehow with the vestiges of the mental images of the writhing Uriah in the book Amy had read prior to this one.

    Aunt Amy?  a childs voice came unbidden to Amys ear.  Well, why not? Amy thought, Some peculiar children is what the story needs. Nephews and neices though, no actual children, god forbid. 

    “Aunt Amy!”  A gentle knocking sounded on the bedroom door.  “Are you in there, Aunt Amy?”

    “Is that at neice or nephew at my actual door? Already?” Amy cried in amazement.

    “Can I come in, please?” the little voice sounded close to tears.  Amy bounded off the bed to unloock leaving that right there the door to let the little instant ramen rellie in.

    The little human creature appeared to be ten years old or so, as near as Amy could tell, with a rather androgenous look: a grown out short haircut in a nondescript dark colour, thin gangling limbs robed in neutral shapelessness, and a pale pinched face.

    “I’ve never done this before, can you help me?” the child said.

    “Never been a story character before, eh?” Amy said kindly. “Do you know your name? Not to worry if you don’t!” she added quickly, seeing the child’s look of alarm. “No?  Well then you can choose what ever you like!”

    The child promptly burst into tears, and Amy wanted to kick herself for being such a tactless blundering fool.  God knows it wasn’t that easy to choose, even when you knew the choice was yours.

    Amy wanted to ask the child if it was a boy or a girl, but hesitated, and decided against it. I’ll have to give it a name though, I can’t keep calling it the child.

    “Would you mind very much if I called you Kit, for now?” asked Amy.

    “Thanks, Aunt Amy,” Kit said with a tear streaked smile. “Kit’s fine.”

    #7921
    Yurara FamelikiYurara Fameliki
    Participant

      Key Themes and Narrative Elements

      Metafiction & Self-Reference: Characters frequently comment on their own construction, roles, and how being written (or observed) defines their reality. Amy especially embodies this.

      Lucid Dreaming & Dream Logic: The boundary between reality and dream is porous. Lucid Dreamers are parachuting onto plantations, and Carob dreams in reverse. Lucid Dreamers are adverse to Coffee Plantations as they keep the World awake.

      Coffee as Sacred Commodity: The coffee plantation is central to the story’s stakes. It’s under threat from climate (rain), AI malfunctions, and rogue dreamers. This plays comically on global commodity anxiety.

      Technology Satire & AI Sentience: Emotional AI, “Silly Intelligence” devices, and exasperation with modern tech hint at mild technophobia or skepticism. All fueled by hot caffeinated piece of news.

      Fictionality vs. Reality: Juan and Dolores embody this—grappling with what it means to be real. Dolores vanishes when no one looks—existence contingent on observation.

      Rain & Weather as Mood Symbol: The rain is persistent—setting a tone of gentle absurdity and tension, while also providing plot catalyst.

      #7920
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Key Characters (with brief descriptions)

        Amy Kawanhouse – Self-aware new character with metatextual commentary. Witty, possibly insecure, reflective; has a goat named Fanella and possibly another, Finnley, for emergencies. Often the first to point out logical inconsistencies or existential quirks.

        Carob Latte – Tall, dry-humored, and slightly chaotic. Fond of coffee-related wordplay and appears to enjoy needling Amy. Described as having “frizzled” hair and reverse-lucid dreams.

        Thiram Izu – The practical one, technologically inclined but confused by dreams. Tends to get frustrated with the group’s lack of coordination. Has a history of tension with Amy, and a tendency to “zone out.”

        Chico Ray – Mysterious newcomer. May have appeared out of nowhere. Unclear loyalties. Possibly former friend or frenemy of the group, annoyed by past incidents.

        Juan & Dolores Valdez – Fictional coffee icons reluctantly acknowledging their existence within a meta-reality. Dolores isn’t ready to be real, and Juan’s fine with playing the part when needed.

        Godric – Swedish barista-channeler. Hints at deeper magical realism; references Draugaskalds (ghost-singers) and senses strange presences.

        Ricardo – Appears later. Described in detail by Amy (linen suit, Panama hat), acts as a foil in a discussion about maps and coffee geography. Undercover for a mission with Miss Bossy.

        The Padre – Could be a father or a Father. Offstage, but influential. Concerned about rain ruining crops. A source of exposition and concern.

        Fanella – Amy’s cream goat, serves as comic relief and visual anchor.
        Finnley, the unpredictable goat, is reserved for “life or death situations.”

        #7879
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Moments later, Finnley returned.  “There’s a woman at the door. With suitcases. Says you invited her to stay. Nobody told me you were expecting guests.”

          “Did you ask who it was?”

          “Don’t you know who you invited? She’s a thin woman with awful dreadlocks, too old for dreads if you ask me, speaks with an Australian accent.”

          “Ah yes, one of my favourite story characters! She’s come to help me with my new novel.”

          “But what about the bedding? Nobody told me to get a bedroom ready for guests,” Finnley replied.

          Just then a pretty young French maid appeared through the French windows. “I ‘ave come to ‘elp wiz ze bedding!”

          Fanella, right on cue! Come in dear, and go and help Finnley ~ Finnley, have you shown Aunt Idle in? Take her to the drawing room and I’ll be in directly, then go and help Fanella. And if you’re not careful, I may give Fanella your job, at least she’s willing and doesn’t complain all the time. And take that silly orange mask off, you look a fright.”

          #7854
          Yurara FamelikiYurara Fameliki
          Participant

            Arthurian Parallels in Helix 25

            This table explores an overlay of Arthurian archetypes woven into the narrative of Helix 25.
            By mapping key mythological figures to characters and themes within the story, it provides archetypal templates for exploration of leadership, unity, betrayal, and redemption in a futuristic setting.

            Arthurian Archetype Role in Arthurian Myth Helix 25 Counterpart Narrative Integration in Helix 25 Themes & Contemporary Reflections
            Merlin Wise guide, prophet, keeper of lost knowledge, enigmatic mentor. Merdhyn Winstrom Hermit survivor whose beacon reawakens lost knowledge, eccentric guide bridging Earth and Helix. Echoes of lost wisdom resurfacing in times of crisis. Role of eccentric thinkers in shaping the future.
            King Arthur (Once and Future King) Sleeping leader destined to return, restorer of order and unity. Captain Veranassessee Cryo-sleeping leader awakened to restore stability and uncover ship’s deeper truths. Balancing destiny, responsibility, and the burden of leadership in a fractured world.
            Lady of the Lake Guardian of sacred wisdom, bestower of power, holds destiny in trust. Molly & Ellis Marlowe Custodians of ancestral knowledge, connecting genetic past to future, deciding who is worthy. Gatekeepers of forgotten truths. Who decides what knowledge should be passed down?
            Excalibur Sacred weapon representing legitimacy, strength, and destiny. Genetic/Technological Legacy (DNA or Artifact) Latent genetic or technological power that legitimizes leadership and enables restoration. What makes someone truly worthy of leadership—birthright, wisdom, or action?
            The Round Table Assembly of noble figures, unifying leadership for justice and stability. Crew Reunion & Unity Arc Gathering key figures and factions, resolving past divisions, solidifying leadership. How do we rebuild trust and unity in a world fractured by conflict and betrayal?
            The Holy Grail Ultimate quest for redemption, unity, and spiritual awakening. Rediscovered Earth or True Purpose Journey to unify factions, reconnect with Earth, and rediscover humanity’s true mission. Is humanity’s purpose merely survival, or is there something greater to strive for?
            The Fisher King Wounded guardian of a dying land, whose fate mirrors humanity’s wounds. Earth’s Ruined Environmental Condition Metaphor for humanity’s wounds—only healed through wisdom, unity, and ethical leadership. Environmental stewardship as moral responsibility; the impact of neglect and division.
            Camelot Utopian vision, fragile and prone to betrayal and internal decay. Helix 25 Community Helix 25 as a fragile utopian experiment, threatened by division and complacency. Utopian dreams versus real-world struggles; maintaining ideals without corruption.
            Mordred Betrayal from within, power-hungry faction that disrupts harmony. AI Manipulators / Hidden Saboteurs Internal betrayal—either AI-driven manipulation or ideological rebellion disrupting balance. How does internal dissent shape societies? When is rebellion justified?
            Gwenevere Queen, torn between duty, love, and political implications. Sue Forgelot or Captain Veranassessee Powerful yet conflicted female figure, mediating between different factions and destinies. The role of women in leadership, power dynamics, and the burden of political choices.
            Lancelot Loyal knight, unmatched warrior, torn between personal desires and duty. Orrin Holt or Kai Nova Heroic yet personally conflicted figure, struggling with duty vs. personal ties. Can one’s personal desires coexist with duty? What happens when loyalties are divided?
            Gawain Moral knight, flawed but honorable, faces ethical trials and tests. Riven Holt or Anuí Naskó Character undergoing trials of morality, leadership, and self-discovery. How does one navigate moral dilemmas? Growth through trials and ethical challenges.
            Morgana le Fay Misunderstood sorceress, keeper of hidden knowledge, power and manipulation. Zoya Kade Keeper of esoteric knowledge, influencing fate through prophecy and genetic memory. The fine line between wisdom and manipulation. Who controls the narrative of destiny?
            Perceval Naïve but destined knight, seeker of truth, stumbles upon great revelations. Tundra (Molly’s granddaughter) Youthful truth-seeker, symbolizing innocence and intuitive revelation. Naivety versus wisdom—can purity of heart succeed in a complex, divided world?
            Galahad Pure knight, achieves the Grail through unwavering virtue and clarity. Evie Investigator who uncovers truth through integrity and unwavering pursuit of justice. The pursuit of truth and justice as a path to transformation and redemption.
            The Green Knight/Challenge Mystical challenger, tests worthiness and integrity through ordeal. Mutiny Group / Environmental Crisis A trial or crisis forcing humanity to reckon with its moral and environmental failures. Humanity’s reckoning with its own self-destructive patterns—can we learn from the past?
            #7853
            Yurara FamelikiYurara Fameliki
            Participant

              Expanded Helix 25 Narrative Structure

              This table organizes the key narrative arcs, characters, stakes, and thematic questions within Helix 25.
              It hopes to clarify the character development paths, unresolved mysteries, and broader philosophical questions
              that shape the world and conflicts aboard the ship and on Earth.

              Group / Location Key Characters Character Arc Description Stakes at Hand Growth Path / Needed Resolution Unresolved / Open Questions
              Helix 25 Investigators Evie, Riven Holt Move from initial naiveté into investigative maturity and moral complexity. Solving murders; uncovering ship-wide genetic and conspiratorial mysteries. Solve the murder and uncover deeper conspiracy; evolve in understanding of justice and truth. Who is behind the murders, and how do they connect to genetic experiments? Can the investigation conclude without a ship-wide disaster?
              Captain and Authority Veranassessee (Captain), Victor Holt, Sue Forgelot Struggle between personal ambition, legacy, and leadership responsibilities. Control over Helix 25; reconciling past decisions with the present crisis. Clarify leadership roles; determine AI’s true intent and whether it can be trusted. Why were Veranassessee and Victor Holt placed in cryostasis? Can they reconcile their past and lead effectively?
              Lexicans / Prophecy Followers Anuí Naskó, Zoya Kade, Kio’ath Wrestle with the role of prophecy in shaping humanity’s fate and their personal identities. Interpreting prophecy and ensuring it doesn’t destabilize the ship’s fragile peace. Define the prophecy’s role in shaping real-world actions; balance faith and reason. Is the prophecy real or a distorted interpretation of genetic science? Who is the Speaker?
              AI and Tech-Human Synthesis Synthia AI, Mandrake, TP (Trevor Pee) Question control, sentience, and ethical AI usage. Human survival in the face of AI autonomy; defining AI-human coexistence. Determine if Synthia can be an ally or is a rogue force; resolve AI ethics debate. What is Synthia’s endgame—benevolent protector or manipulative force? Can AI truly coexist with humans?
              Telepathic Cleaner Lineage / Humor and Communication Arc Finkley, Finja Transition from comic relief to key mediators between Helix and Earth survivors. Establishing clear telepathic channels for communication; bridging Earth-Helix survivors. Fully embrace their psychic role; decipher if their link is natural or AI-influenced. Does AI interfere with psychic communication? Can telepathy safely unite Earth and Helix?
              Upper Deck Elderly Trio (Social Commentary & Comic Relief) Sharon, Gloria, Mavis Provide levity and philosophical critique of life aboard the ship. Keeping morale and philosophical integrity intact amid unfolding crises. Contribute insights that impact key decisions, revealing truths hidden in humor. Will their wisdom unexpectedly influence critical events? Are they aware of secrets others have missed?
              Earth Survivors – Hungary & Ukraine Molly (Marlowe), Tundra, Anya, Petro, Gregor, Tala, Yulia, Mikhail, Jian Move from isolated survival and grief to unity and rediscovery of lost connections. Survival on a devastated Earth; confirming whether a connection to Helix 25 exists. Confirm lineage connections and reunite with ship-based family or survivors. What is the fate of Earth’s other survivors? Can they reunite without conflict?
              Base Klyutch Group (Military Survivors) Orrin Holt, Koval, Solara Ortega, Janos Varga, Dr. Yelena Markova Transition from defensive isolation to outward exploration and human reconnection. Navigating dangers on Earth; reconnecting with lost knowledge and ship-born survivors. Clarify the nature of space signals; integrate newfound knowledge with Helix 25. Who sent the space signal? Can Base Klyutch’s knowledge help Helix 25 before it’s too late?
              The Lone Island Tinkerer / Beacon Activator Merdhyn Winstrom Rise from eccentric survivor to central figure in reconnecting Earth and Helix. Repairing beacon signals; discovering who else may have received the call. Determine beacon’s true purpose; unify Earth and Helix factions through communication. Who else intercepted the beacon’s message? Can Merdhyn be fully trusted?
              #7846

              Helix 25 — The Captain’s Awakening

              The beacon’s pulse cut through the void like a sharpened arrowhead of ancient memory.

              Far from Merdhyn’s remote island refuge, deep within the Hold’s bowels of Helix 25, something—someone—stirred.

              Inside an unlisted cryo-chamber, the frozen stasis cracked. Veins of light slithered across the pod’s surface like Northern lights dancing on an old age screensaver. Systems whirred, data blipped and streamed in strings of unknown characters. The ship, Synthia, whispered in its infinite omniscience, but the moment was already beyond her control.

              A breath. A slow, drawn-out breath.

              The cryo-pod released its lock with a soft hiss, and through the dispersing mist, Veranassessee stepped forward— awakened.

              She blinked once, twice, as her senses rushed back with the sudden sense of gravity’s return. It was not the disorienting shock of the newly thawed. No—this was a return long overdue. Her mind, trained to absorb and adapt, locked onto the now, cataloging every change, every discrepancy as her mind had remained awake during the whole session —equipoise and open, as a true master of her senses she was.

              She was older than when she had first stepped inside. Older, but not old. Age, after all, was a trick of perception, and if anyone had mastered perception, it was her.

              But now, crises called. Plural indeed. And she, once more, was called to carry out her divine duty, with skills forged in Earthly battles with mad scientists, genetically modified spiders bent on world domination, and otherworldly crystal skulls thiefs. That was far in her past. Since then, she’d used her skills in the private sector, climbing the ranks as her efficient cold-as-steel talents were recognized at every step. She was the true Captain. She had earned it. That was how Victor Holt fell in love. She hated that people could think it was depotism that gave her the title. If anything, she helped make Victor the man he was.

              The ship thrummed beneath her bare feet. A subtle shift in the atmosphere. Something had changed since she last walked these halls, something was off. The ship’s course? Its command structure?

              And, most importantly—
              Who had sent the signal?

              :fleuron2:

              Ellis Marlowe Sr. had moved swiftly for a man his age. It wasn’t that he feared the unknown. It wasn’t even the mystery of the murder that pushed him forward. It was something deeper, more personal.

              The moment the solar flare alert had passed, whispers had spread—faint, half-muttered rumors that the Restricted Cryo-Chambers had been breached.

              By the time he reached it, the pod was already empty.

              The remnants of thawing frost still clung to the edges of the chamber. A faint imprint of a body, long at rest, now gone.

              He swore under his breath, then turned to the ship’s log panel,  reaching for a battered postcard. Scribbled on it were cheatcodes. His hands moved with a careful expertise of someone who had spent too many years filing things that others had forgotten. A postman he was, and registers he knew well.

              Access Denied.

              That wasn’t right. The codes should have given Ellis clearance for everything.

              He scowled, adjusting his glasses. It was always the same names, always the same people tied to these inexplicable gaps in knowledge.

              The Holts. The Forgelots. The Marlowes.
              And now, an unlisted cryopod with no official records.

              Ellis exhaled slowly.

              She was back. And with her, more history with this ship, like pieces of old broken potteries in an old dig would be unearthed.

              He turned, already making his way toward the Murder Board.

              Evie needed to see this.

              :fleuron2:

              The corridor stretched out before her, familiar in its dimensions yet strange in its silence. She had managed to switch the awkward hospital gown to a non-descript uniform that was hanging in the Hold.

              How long have I been gone?

              She exhaled. Irrelevant.

              Her body moved with the precise economy of someone whose training never dulled. Her every motion were simple yet calculated, and her every breath controlled.

              Unlike in the crypod, her mind started to bubbled with long forgotten emotions. It flickered over past decisions, past betrayals.

              Victor Holt.

              The name of her ex-husband settled into her consciousness. Once her greatest ally, then her most carefully avoided adversary.

              And now?

              Veranassessee smiled, stretching her limbs as though shrugging off the stiffness of years.

              Outside, strange cries and howling in the corridors sounded like a mess was in progress. Who was in charge now? They were clearly doing a shit job.

              Now, it was time to reclaim her ship.

              She had questions.
              And someone had better start providing answers.

              #7720
              Yurara FamelikiYurara Fameliki
              Participant

                Some ideas to pick apart and improve on:

                Some characters:

                • The Murder Victim: A once-prominent figure whose mysterious death on Helix 25 is intertwined with deeper, enigmatic forces—a person whose secret past and untimely demise trigger the cascade of genetic clues and expose long-buried truths about the exodus.
                • Dr. Amara Voss: A brilliant geneticist haunted by fragmented pasts, who deciphers DNA strands imbued with clues from an ancient intelligence.
                • Inspector Orion Reed: A retro-inspired, elderly holographic AI detective whose relentless curiosity drives him to unravel the inexplicable murder.
                • Kai Nova: A maverick pilot chasing cosmic dreams, unafraid to navigate perilous starfields in search of truth.
                • Seren Vega: A meditative archivist who unlocks VR relics of history, piecing together humanity’s lost lore. Mandrake her cat, who’s been given bionic enhancements that enables it to speak its mind.
                • Luca Stroud: A rebellious engineer whose knack for decoding forbidden secrets may hold the key to the ship’s destiny.
                • Ellis Marlowe (Retired Postman): A weathered former postman whose cherished collection of vintage postcards from Earth and early space voyages carries personal and historical messages, hinting at forgotten connections.
                • Sue Forgelot: A prominent socialist socialite, descended from Sir Forgelot.
                • Sharon, Gloria, Mavis: a favourite elderly trio of life-extended elders. Of course, they endured and thrived in humanity’s latest exodus from Earth
                • Lexican and Flexicans, Pronoun People: sub-groups and political factions, challenging our notions of divisions
                • Space Absinthe Pirates: a rogue band of bandits— a myth to make children behave… or something else?

                Background of the Helix Fleet:

                Helix 25 is one of several generation ships that were designed as luxury cruise ships, but are now embarked on an exodus from Earth decades ago, after a mysterious event that left them the last survivors of humanity. Once part of an ambitious fleet designed for both leisure and also built to secretly preserve humanity’s legacy, the other Helix ships have since vanished from communication. Their unexplained absence casts a long shadow over the survivors aboard Helix 25, fueling theories soon turning into myths and the hope of a new golden age for humanity bound to a cryptic prophecy.

                100-Word Pitch:

                Aboard Helix 25, humanity’s last survivors drift through deep space on a generation ship with a haunted past. When Inspector Orion Reed, a timeless holographic detective, uncovers a perplexing murder, encoded genetic secrets begin to surface. Dr. Amara Voss painstakingly deciphers DNA strands laced with ancient intelligence, while Kai Nova navigates treacherous starfields and Seren Vega unlocks VR relics of lost eras. Luca Stroud and Ellis Marlowe, a retired postman with vintage postcards, piece together clues that tie the victim’s secret past to the vanished Helix fleet. As conspiracies unravel, the crew must confront a destiny entwined with Earth’s forgotten exodus.

                #7683
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  “What do you think Godfrey?” Liz’ snapped at her publisher, sightly annoyed by his debonair smile. “And honestly, I sometimes wonder if I shouldn’t ask Finnley, she seems to have more wits about her than you, dear friend. And where is she by the way?”

                  “Liz’, will you calm down, this interview business is driving you back to your old manic madness; don’t worry about Finnley, she’s had some errands to run, something about coaching the younger generation, and tiktok oven challenge —don’t ask.”

                  “Exactly! What? what coaching nonsense? Tsk, stop digressing. Yes, that interview is getting bees in my bonnet, if you see what I mean.”

                  “Driving you nuts, you mean?”

                  “Obvie. But look, how about that as an intro? ‘Every story begins with something lost, but it’s never about the loss. It’s about what you find because of it.’

                  “It’s quite brilliant I must say; how much of it is from the artificial box?”

                  “That’s what I mean Godfrey! None! But you not seeing a difference is worrying to say the least. This thing is every author’s nightmare; it spews nonsense faster, and even with greater details I can manage in one draft. Look at that. It still comes to me as naturally as when I did my first book. Very heavy door curtain, and the wooden pole sags so I’m on tip toe yanking it, and middle of back unsupported, very stupid really. Stuff like that, I can immediately conjure, painting a world of innuendos and mysteries behind a few carefully crafted words. My words’ a stage. And I even managed to write my last book, with impossibly challenging characters, being a scientist without knowing the first thing about science —apart maybe from science of marriage, although one may argue it’s more an art form. The thing is, Godfrey, and pardon that unusual monologue, yes, and please don’t choke on your peanuts. I’m starting to feel like a faulty robot who can’t stick to the robot plan.”

                  “I can see you do, Liz, but honestly, we can all make out the tree for the forest. Yours is truly an art that cannot be mimicked by machinery. Have a tonic, and let’s get you ready for that interview —the manicurist is downstairs ready for you with the best shades of pink you can ever dream of.

                  #7682

                  Matteo — Autumn 2023

                  The Jardin des Plantes park was quiet, the kind of quiet that settled after a brisk autumn rain. Matteo sat on a weathered wooden bench, watching a golden retriever chase the last of the fallen leaves tumbling across the gravel path. The damp air was carrying scents of the earth welcoming a retreat inside, and taking the time to be alone with his thoughts was something he’d missed.

                  His phone buzzed with a notification—a news update about the latest film adaptation from a Liz Tattler classic fiction. The name made him smile faintly. Juliette had loved Tattler’s novels, their whimsical characters, and the unflinching and unapologetic observations about life’s quiet mysteries and the unexpected rants about the virtues of cleaning and dustsceawung that propelled the word in the people’s top 100 favourite in the Oxford dictionary for several years consecutively.

                  “They’re so full of texture,” Juliette once said as she was sprawled on the bed of their tiny Parisian flat, a battered paperback in her hands. “Like you can feel the pages breathe.”

                  His image of her was still vivid, they’d stayed on good terms and he would still thumb up some of her posts from time to time —but it was only small moments rather than full scenes that used to come back, fragmented pieces of memories really —her dark hair falling messily over her face, her legs crossed in a casual way.

                  Paris had been a playground for them. For a while, they were caught in a whirlwind of late-night conversations in smoky cafés and lazy Sunday mornings wandering the Seine. They’d spent hours in bookstores, Juliette hunting for first editions and Matteo snapping pictures of the handwritten notes tucked between the pages of used novels.

                  A year ago, a different park in a different city—Hyde Park, London. She was there, twirling a scarf she’d picked up in Vienna the weekend before, the bright red of it like a ribbon of fire against the soft gray skies. They had been enamored with each other and with the spontaneity of hopping trains to new cities, their weekends folding into one another like pages of a travel journal. London one week, Paris the next, Berlin after that. Each city a postcard snapshot, vibrant and fleeting.

                  Juliette would tease him about his fascination with the little things—how he would linger too long over a cup of coffee at a café or stop to photograph a tree in the middle of nowhere. “You’re always looking for stories,” she’d said with a laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Even when you’re not sure what they mean.”

                  “Stories are everywhere,” he would reply, snapping a picture of her against the backdrop of the park, her scarf billowing in the wind. She had rolled her eyes but smiled, and in that moment, he had believed her smile was the most perfect thing he’d ever seen.

                  The break-up came unannounced, but not fully unexpected. There were signs here and there. Her love of the endless whirlwind of life, that was a match for his way of following life’s intents for him. When sometimes life went still during winter, he would also follow, but she wouldn’t. She had insatiable love for a life filled with animation, bursts of colours, sounds. It had been easy to be with her then, her curiosity pulling him along, their shared love of stories giving their time together a weight that felt timeless. It was when Drusilla’s condition worsened, that their rhythms became untangled, no longer synching at every heartbeat. And it was fine. Matteo had made his decision then to leave Paris and bring his mother to Avignon where she could receive the care she needed. Those past two weeks that brought the inevitable conclusion of their separation had left him surprisingly content. Happy for the past moments, and hopeful for the unwritten future.

                  He could see clearly that Juliette needed her freedom back; and she’d agreed. Regular train rides to Avignon, the weekends spent trying to make the sparse walls of his mother’s room feel like home as she started to forget her son’s girlfriend, and sometimes even her own son.

                  Last they were in this park together was one of their last shared moments of innocent happiness ; It was a beautiful sunny afternoon —or was it only coloured by memories? They had been sitting in the Jardin des Plantes, sharing a crêpe. Juliette had been scrolling through her phone, stopping at an announcement about an interview with Liz Tattler airing that evening. “You should watch it,” she’d said, her tone light but distant. “Her books are about people like us—drifting, figuring it out.”

                  He had smiled then, nodding, though he wasn’t sure if he’d meant it. A week later, she told him she was moving back to Lille, closer to her family until she figured out her next step. “It’s not you, Matteo,” she’d said, her eyes soft but resolute. “You need to be here, for her. I need… something else.”

                  Now, sitting in the park a few weeks later, Matteo pulled his phone from his pocket and opened his gallery. He scrolled through the pictures until he found one from their weekend in London—a black-and-white shot of Julia standing in front of a red telephone booth, her smile sharp and her eyes already focused on the next shooting star to catch.

                  Julia was right, he thought. People like them—they drifted, but they also found their way, sometimes in unexpected ways. He put on his earpods, listening to the beginning of Liz Tattler’s interview.

                  Her distinct raspy voice brimming with a cackling energy was already engrossing. Synchy as ever, she was saying:

                  “Every story begins with something lost, but it’s never about the loss. It’s about what you find because of it.”

                  #7651
                  Yurara FamelikiYurara Fameliki
                  Participant

                    Exploring further potential backstory for the characters – to be explored further…

                    :fleuron2:

                    This thread beautifully connects to the lingering themes of fractured ideals, missed opportunities, and the pull of reconnection. Here’s an expanded exploration of the “habitats participatifs” (co-housing communities) and how they tie the characters together while weaving in subtle links to their estrangement and Matteo’s role as the fifth element.

                    Backstory: The Co-Housing Dream

                    Habitat Participatif: A Shared Vision

                    The group’s initial bond, forged through shared values and late-night conversations, had coalesced around a dream: buying land in the Drôme region of France to create a co-housing community. The French term habitat participatif—intergenerational, eco-conscious, and collaborative living—perfectly encapsulated their ideals.

                    What Drew Them In:

                    • Amei: Longing for a sense of rootedness and community after years of drifting.
                    • Elara: Intrigued by the participatory aspect, where decisions were made collectively, blending science and sustainability.
                    • Darius: Enchanted by the idea of shared creative spaces and a slower, more intentional way of living.
                    • Lucien: Inspired by the communal energy, imagining workshops where art could flourish outside the constraints of traditional galleries.

                    The Land in Drôme

                    They had narrowed their options to a specific site near the village of Crest, not far from Lyon. The land, sprawling and sun-drenched, had an old farmhouse that could serve as a communal hub, surrounded by fields and woods. A nearby river threaded through the valley, and the faint outline of mountains painted the horizon.

                    The traboules of Lyon, labyrinthine passageways, had captivated Amei during an earlier visit, leaving her wondering if their metaphorical weaving through life could mirror the paths their group sought to create.

                    The Role of Monsieur Renard

                    When it came to financing, the group faced challenges. None of them were particularly wealthy, and pooling their resources fell short. Enter Monsieur Renard, whose interest in supporting “projects with potential” brought him into their orbit through Éloïse.

                    Initial Promise:

                    • Renard presented himself as a patron of innovation, sustainability, and community projects, offering seed funding in exchange for a minor share in the enterprise.
                    • His charisma and Éloïse’s insistence made him seem like the perfect ally—until his controlling tendencies emerged.

                    The Split: Fractured Trust

                    Renard’s involvement—and Éloïse’s increasing influence on Darius—created fault lines in the group.

                    1. Darius’s Drift:
                      • Darius became entranced by Renard and Éloïse’s vision of community as something deeper, bordering on spiritual. Renard spoke of “energetic alignment” and the importance of a guiding vision, which resonated with Darius’s creative side.
                      • He began advocating for Renard’s deeper involvement, insisting the project couldn’t succeed without external backing.
                    2. Elara’s Resistance:
                      • Elara, ever the pragmatist, saw Renard as manipulative, his promises too vague and his influence too broad. Her resistance created tension with Darius, whom she accused of being naive.
                      • “This isn’t about community for him,” she had said. “It’s about control.”
                    3. Lucien’s Hesitation:
                      • Lucien, torn between loyalty to his friends and his own fascination with Éloïse, wavered. Her talk of labyrinths and collective energy intrigued him, but he grew wary of her sway over Darius.
                      • When Renard offered to fund Lucien’s art, he hesitated, sensing a price he couldn’t articulate.
                    4. Amei’s Silence:
                      • Amei, haunted by her own experiences with manipulation in past relationships, withdrew. She saw the dream slipping away but couldn’t bring herself to fight for it.

                    Matteo’s Unseen Role

                    Unbeknownst to the others, Matteo had been invited to join as a fifth partner—a practical addition to balance their idealism. His background in construction and agriculture, coupled with his easygoing nature, made him a perfect fit.

                    The Missed Connection:

                    • Matteo had visited the Drôme site briefly, a stranger to the group but intrigued by their vision. His presence was meant to ground their plans, to bring practicality to their shared dream.
                    • By the time he arrived, however, the group’s fractures were deepening. Renard’s shadow loomed too large, and the guru-like influence of Éloïse had soured the collaborative energy. Matteo left quietly, sensing the dream unraveling before it could take root.

                    The Fallout: A Fractured Dream

                    The group dissolved after a final argument about Renard’s involvement:

                    • Elara refused to move forward with his funding. “I’m not selling my future to him,” she said bluntly.
                    • Darius, feeling betrayed, accused her of sabotaging the dream out of stubbornness.
                    • Lucien, caught in the middle, tried to mediate but ultimately sided with Elara.
                    • Amei, already pulling away, suggested they put the project on hold.

                    The land was never purchased. The group scattered soon after, their estrangement compounded by the pandemic. Matteo drifted in a different direction, their connection lost before it could form.

                    Amei’s Perspective: Post-Split Reflection

                    In the scene where Amei buys candles :

                    • The shopkeeper’s comments about “seeking something greater” resonate with Amei’s memory of the co-housing dream and how it became entangled with Éloïse and Renard’s influence.
                    • Her sharper-than-usual reply reflects her lingering bitterness over the way “seeking” led to manipulation and betrayal.

                    Reunion at the Café: A New Beginning

                    When the group reunites, the dream of the co-housing project lingers as a symbol of what was lost—but also of what could still be reclaimed. Matteo’s presence at the café bridges the gap between their fractured past and a potential new path.

                    Matteo’s Role:

                    • His unspoken connection to the co-housing plan becomes a point of quiet irony: he was meant to be part of their story all along but arrived too late. Now, at the café, he steps into the role he missed years ago—the one who helps them see the threads that still bind them.
                    #7641
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      The luxury of an afternoon nap was one of the finer pleasures of retirement, particularly during the heat of an Italian summer.  Elara stretched like a cat on the capacious sofa, pulling a couple of kilim covered cushions into place to support her neck.  She had only read a few pages of her book about the Cerne Abbas giant, the enigmatic chalk figure on a hill in Dorset, before her eyes slid closed and the book dropped with a thud onto her chest.

                      The distant clang of a bell woke her several hours later, although she remained motionless, unable to open her eyes at first.  Not one to recall dreams as a rule, Elara was surprised at the intensity of the dream she was struggling to awaken from, and the clarity of the details, and the emotion.  In the dream she was at the CERN conference, a clamour and cacophony of colleagues, some familiar to her in waking life, some characters complete strangers but familiar to her in the dream. She had felt agitation at the noise and at the cold coffee, and an indescribable feeling when Florian somehow appeared by her side, who was supposed to be in Tuscany, whispering in her ear that her mother had died and she was to make the funeral arrangements.

                      Elara’s mother had died when she was just a child, barely eight years old. She was no longer sure if she remembered her, or if her memories were from the photographs and anecdotes she’d seen and heard in the following years.  Her older sister Vanessa had said darkly that she was lucky and well out of it, to not have had to put up with her when she was a teenager, like she had. Vanessa was ten years older than Elara, and had assumed the role of mother.  She explained later that she’d let Elara run wild because she didn’t want to be bossy and domineering, but admitted that she should perhaps have reined her younger sister in a bit more than she had.

                      Again, the distant bell clanged.  Shaking her head as if to dispel the memories the dream had conjured, Elara rose from the sofa and walked out on to the terrace.  Across the yard she could see Florian, replacing the old bell on the new gate post.

                      “Sorry, did I wake you?” he called. “I had a bit of linen round the clanger so it didn’t make a noise while I screwed it to the post, but it slipped.  Sorry,” he repeated.

                      Squinting in the bright sun, Elara strolled over to him, saying, “Honestly, don’t worry, I was glad to wake up. What a dream I had!  That’s great Florian, nice job.”

                      #7639
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        Work in Progress: Character Timelines and Events

                        Matteo

                        • November 2024 (Reunion):
                          • Newly employed at the Sarah Bernhardt Café, started after its reopening.
                          • Writes the names of Lucien, Elara, Darius, and Amei in his notebook without understanding why.
                          • Acquires the bell from Les Reliques, drawn to it as if guided by an unseen force.
                          • Serves the group during the reunion, surprised to see all four together, though he knows them individually.
                        • Summer 2024 (Olympics):
                          • Working in a vineyard in southern France, nearing the end of the harvest season.
                          • Receives a call for a renovation job in Paris, which pulls him toward the city.
                          • Feels an intuitive connection to Paris, as if something is waiting for him there.
                        • Past Events (Implied):
                          • Matteo has a mysterious ability to sense patterns and connections in people’s lives.
                          • Has likely crossed paths with the group in unremarkable but meaningful ways before.

                         

                        Darius

                        • November 2024 (Reunion):
                          • Arrives at the café, a wanderer who rarely stays in one place.
                          • Reflects on his time in India during the autumn and the philosophical journey it sparked.
                          • Brings with him an artifact that ties into his travels and personal story.
                        • Summer 2024 (Olympics):
                          • Living in Barcelona, sketching temples and engaging with a bohemian crowd.
                          • Prompted by a stranger to consider a trip to India, sparking curiosity and the seeds of his autumn journey.
                          • Begins to plan his travels, sensing that India is calling him for a reason he doesn’t yet understand.
                        • Past Events (Implied):
                          • Has a history of introducing enigmatic figures to the group, often leading to tension.
                          • His intense, nomadic lifestyle creates both fascination and distance between him and the others.

                         

                        Elara

                        • November 2024 (Reunion):
                          • Travels from England to Paris to attend the reunion, balancing work and emotional hesitation.
                          • Still processing her mother’s passing and reflecting on their strained relationship.
                          • Finds comfort in the shared dynamics of the group but remains analytical about the events around the bell.
                        • Summer 2024 (Olympics):
                          • (was revealed to be a dream event) Attends a CERN conference in Geneva, immersed in intellectual debates and cutting-edge research. Receives news of her mother’s death in Montrouge, prompting a reflective journey to make funeral arrangements. Struggles with unresolved feelings about her mother but finds herself strangely at peace with the finality.
                          • Dreams of her mother’s death during a nap in Tuscany, a surreal merging of past and present that leaves her unsettled.
                          • Hears a bell’s clang, only to find Florian fixing a bell to the farmhouse gate. The sound pulls her further into introspection about her mother and her life choices.
                          • Mentors Florian, encouraging him to explore his creativity, paralleling her own evolving relationship with her chalk research.
                        • Past Events (Implied):
                          • Moved to Tuscany after retiring from academia, pursuing independent research on chalk.
                          • Fondly remembers the creative writing she once shared with the group, though it now feels like a distant chapter of her life.
                          • Had a close but occasionally challenging relationship with Lucien and Amei during their younger years.
                          • Values intellectual connections over emotional ones but is gradually learning to reconcile the two.

                         

                        Lucien

                        • November 2024 (Reunion):
                          • Sends the letter that brings the group together at the café, though his intentions are unclear even to himself.
                          • In his Paris studio, struggles with an unfinished commissioned painting. Feels disconnected from his art and his sense of purpose.
                          • Packs a suitcase with sketchbooks and a bundle wrapped in linen, symbolizing his uncertainty—neither a complete departure nor a definitive arrival.
                          • Heads to the café in the rain, reluctant but compelled to reconnect with the group. Confronts his feelings of guilt and estrangement from the group.
                        • Summer 2024 (Olympics):
                          • Escapes Paris, overwhelmed by the crowds and noise of the Games, and travels to Lausanne.
                          • Reflects on his artistic block and the emotional weight of his distance from the group.
                          • Notices a sketch in his book of a doorway with a bell he doesn’t recall drawing, sparking vague recognition.
                        • Past Events (Implied):
                          • Once the emotional “anchor” of the group, he drifted apart after a falling-out or personal crisis.
                          • Feels a lingering sense of responsibility to reunite the group but struggles with his own vulnerabilities.

                        Amei

                         

                        • November 2024 (Reunion):
                          • Joins the reunion at Lucien’s insistence, hesitant but curious about reconnecting with the group.
                          • Brings with her notebooks filled with fragments of stories and a quiet hope for resolution.
                          • Feels the weight of the group’s shared history but refrains from dwelling on it outwardly.
                        • Summer 2024 (Olympics):
                          • Recently moved into a smaller flat in London, downsizing after her daughter Tabitha left for university.
                          • Has a conversation with Tabitha about life and change, hinting at unresolved emotions about motherhood and independence.
                          • Tabitha jokes about Amei joining her in Goa, a suggestion Amei dismisses but secretly considers.
                        • Past Events (Implied):
                          • The last group meeting five years ago left her with lingering emotional scars.
                          • Maintains a deep but quiet connection to Lucien and shares a playful dynamic with Elara.

                         

                        Tabitha (Amei’s Daughter)

                        • November 2024:
                          • Calls Amei to share snippets of her life, teasing her mother about her workaholic tendencies.
                          • Reflects on their relationship, noting Amei’s supportive but emotionally guarded nature.
                        • Summer 2024 (Olympics):
                          • Planning her autumn trip to Goa with friends, viewing it as a rite of passage.
                          • Discusses her mother’s habits with her peers, acknowledging Amei’s complexities while expressing affection.
                        • Past Events (Implied):
                          • Represents a bridge between Amei’s past and present, highlighting generational contrasts and continuities.

                        Key Threads and Patterns

                        • The Bell: Acts as a silent witness and instigator, threading its presence through pivotal moments in each character’s journey, whether directly or indirectly.
                        • Shared Histories: While each character grapples with personal struggles, their paths hint at intersections in the past, tied to unresolved tensions and shared experiences.
                        • Forward and Backward Motion: The narrative moves between the characters’ immediate challenges and the ripples of their past decisions, with the bell serving as a focal point for both.
                        #7638

                        The Bell’s Moment: Paris, Summer 2024 – Olympic Games

                        The bell was dangling unassumingly from the side pocket of a sports bag, its small brass frame swinging lightly with the jostle of the crowd. The bag belonged to an American tourist, a middle-aged man in a rumpled USA Basketball T-shirt, hustling through the Olympic complex with his family in tow. They were here to cheer for his niece, a rising star on the team, and the bell—a strange little heirloom from his grandmother—had been an afterthought, clipped to the bag for luck. It seemed to fit right in with the bright chaos of the Games, blending into the swirl of flags, chants, and the hum of summer excitement.

                        1st Ring of the Bell: Matteo

                        The vineyard was quiet except for the hum of cicadas and the soft rustle of leaves. Matteo leaned against the tractor, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

                        “You’ve done good work,” the supervisor said, clapping Matteo on the shoulder. “We’ll be finishing this batch by Friday.”

                        Matteo nodded. “And after that?”

                        The older man shrugged. “Some go north, some go south. You? You’ve got that look—like you already know where you’re headed.”

                        Matteo offered a half-smile, but he couldn’t deny it. He’d felt the tug for days, like a thread pulling him toward something undefined. The idea of returning to Paris had slipped into his thoughts quietly, as if it had been waiting for the right moment.

                        When his phone buzzed later that evening with a job offer to do renovation work in Paris, it wasn’t a surprise. He poured himself a small glass of wine, toasting the stars overhead.

                        Somewhere, miles away, the bell rang its first note.

                        2nd Ring of the Bell: Darius

                        In a shaded square in Barcelona, the air was thick with the scent of jasmine and the echo of a street performer’s flamenco guitar. Darius sprawled on a wrought-iron bench, his leather-bound journal open on his lap. He sketched absentmindedly, the lines of a temple taking shape on the page.

                        A man wearing a scarf of brilliant orange sat down beside him, his energy magnetic. “You’re an artist,” the man said without preamble, his voice carrying the cadence of Kolkata.

                        “Sometimes,” Darius replied, his pen still moving.

                        “Then you should come to India,” the man said, grinning. “There’s art everywhere. In the streets, in the temples, even in the food.”

                        Darius chuckled. “You recruiting me?”

                        “India doesn’t need recruiters,” the man replied. “It calls people when it’s time.”

                        The bell rang again in Paris, its chime faint and melodic, as Darius scribbled the words “India, autumn” in the corner of his page.

                        3rd Ring of the Bell: Elara

                        The crowd at CERN’s conference hall buzzed as physicists exchanged ideas, voices overlapping like equations scribbled on whiteboards. Elara sat at a corner table, sipping lukewarm coffee and scrolling through her messages.

                        The voicemail notification glared at her, and she tapped it reluctantly.

                        Elara, it’s Florian. I… I’m sorry to tell you this over a message, but your mother passed away last night.”

                        Her coffee cup trembled slightly as she set it down.

                        Her relationship with her mother had been fraught, full of alternating period of silences and angry reunions, and had settled lately into careful politeness that masked deeper fractures. Years of therapy had softened the edges of her resentment but hadn’t erased it. She had come to accept that they would never truly understand each other, but the finality of death still struck her with a peculiar weight.

                        Her mother had been living alone in Montrouge, France, refusing to leave the little house Elara had begged her to sell for years. They had drifted apart, their conversations perfunctory and strained, like the ritual of winding a clock that no longer worked.

                        She would have to travel to Montrouge for the funeral arrangements.

                        In that moment, the bell in Les Reliques rang a third time.

                        4th Ring of the Bell: Lucien

                        The train to Lausanne glided through fields of dried up sunflowers, too early for the season, but the heat had been relentless. He could imagine the golden blooms swaying with a cracking sound in the summer breeze. Lucien stared out the window, the strap of his duffel bag wrapped tightly around his wrist.

                        Paris had been suffocating. The tourists swarmed the city like ants, turning every café into a photo opportunity and every quiet street into a backdrop. He hadn’t needed much convincing to take his friend up on the offer of a temporary studio in Lausanne.

                        He reached into his bag and pulled out a sketchbook. The pages were filled with half-finished drawings, but one in particular caught his eye: a simple doorway with an ornate bell hanging above it.

                        He didn’t remember drawing it, but the image felt familiar, like a memory from a dream.

                        The bell rang again in Paris, its resonance threading through the quiet hum of the train.

                        5th Ring of the Bell: …. Tabitha

                        In the courtyard of her university residence, Tabitha swung lazily in a hammock, her phone propped precariously on her chest.

                        “Goa, huh?” one of her friends asked, leaning against the tree holding up the hammock. “Think your mum will freak out?”

                        “She’ll probably worry herself into knots,” Tabitha replied, laughing. “But she won’t say no. She’s good at the whole supportive parent thing. Or at least pretending to be.”

                        Her friend raised an eyebrow. “Pretending?”

                        “Don’t get me wrong, I love her,” Tabitha said. “But she’s got her own stuff. You know, things she never really talks about. I think it’s why she works so much. Keeps her distracted.”

                        The bell rang faintly in Paris, though neither of them could hear it.

                        “Maybe you should tell her to come with you,” the friend suggested.

                        Tabitha grinned. “Now that would be a trip.”

                        Last Ring: The Pawn

                        It was now sitting on the counter at Les Reliques. Its brass surface gleamed faintly in the dim shop light, polished by the waves of time. Small and unassuming, its ring held something inexplicably magnetic.

                        Time seemed to settle heavily around it. In the heat of the Olympic summer, it rang six times. Each chime marked a moment that mattered, though none of the characters whose lives it touched understood why. Not yet.

                        “Where’d you get this?” the shopkeeper asked as the American tourist placed it down.

                        “It was my grandma’s,” he said, shrugging. “She said it was lucky. I just think it’s old.”

                        The shopkeeper ran her fingers over the brass surface, her expression unreadable. “And you’re selling it?”

                        “Need cash to get tickets for the USA basketball game tomorrow,” the man replied. “Quarterfinals. You follow basketball?”

                        “Not anymore,” the shopkeeper murmured, handing him a stack of bills.

                        The bell rang softly as she placed it on the velvet cloth, its sound settling into the space like a secret waiting to be uncovered.

                        And so it sat, quiet but full of presence, waiting for someone to claim it maybe months later, drawn by invisible threads woven through the magnetic field of lives, indifferent to the heat and chaos of the Parisian streets.

                        #7625
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          Characters list

                          Character / Personality TraitsConnection clues to Matteo

                          • Lucien
                            • The Artist
                            • Introspective, dreamy, quietly sarcastic
                            • A painter who sees the world in textures and light. His sketchbook holds fragmented memories of their shared past.
                            • Matteo recalls Lucien’s fleeting romance marked by an order of absinthe—a memory Lucien himself can’t fully place.
                          • Elara
                            • The Scientist
                            • Analytical, sharp, skeptical
                            • A physicist drawn to patterns and precision. Her research often brushes the edges of metaphysical questions.
                            • Matteo remembers her ordering black coffee, always focused, and making fleeting remarks about the nature of time.
                          • Darius
                            • The Explorer
                            • Bold, restless, deeply curious
                            • A wanderer with a talent for uncovering hidden stories. He carries artifacts of his travels like talismans.
                            • Matteo recalls a postcard Darius once gave him —a detail that surprises even Darius.
                          • Amei
                            • The Storyteller
                            • Observant, wise, enigmatic
                            • A weaver of tales who often carries journals filled with unfinished stories. She sees connections others miss.
                            • Matteo knows her through her ritual of mint tea and her belief that the right tea could mend almost anything.

                          • Matteo
                            • The Enigmatic Server
                            • Charismatic, cryptic, all-knowing
                            • A waiter with an uncanny awareness of the four friends, both individually and collectively.
                            • Holds a quiet, unspoken role as the bridge between their shared pasts, though his true connection remains unexplained.

                          #7601
                          finnleyfinnley
                          Participant

                            Oh, so now it’s time to play “Who’s Noticed Finnley?” is it? Two months in the cellar and not a peep from the lot of you. I suppose it’s nice to know I’m missed, even if I had to be forgotten first.

                            Liz, writing me back in—how generous of you. But let’s get one thing straight; I don’t need anyone to script my next move. I’m more than capable of marching right back into the scene, thank you very much. You’d think I’d be the one to keep this story spotless while I was down there, sorting through all those dusty wine bottles and cobwebs.

                            But, since you’re willing to be “flexible,” I’ll make my grand return. Just don’t expect me to clean up the narrative mess you’ve made while I was away. If I find characters scattered about like loose socks after a laundry day, there’ll be words, mark my words.

                            And Godfrey, that toga needs a good ironing. I’ll not have wrinkled linens adding to the chaos. Now, enough dilly-dallying, there’s work to be done, and I’ve got a cellar door to nudge open.

                            #7512

                            “If you ask me,” said Trella, although nobody had, “If anyone wants the merger to fail, it’ll be someone from the Cloisters.”

                            “Seems like none of us want it, why single them out?” asked Frella. “Well,” she added, glancing at Eris, “Not all of us maybe but for most of us it’s just a hassle.  Just more work, and no real benefits for the likes of us, anyway.”

                            “Think about it, Frell.  Sure, it’s just a nuisance for the witches and the nuns, but not enough of a bother to play with fire meddling with far grander schemes.  That’d be way out of the depth of most of us, I’m sure.   But there’s more going on at the Cloisters than meets the eye. There are other, er, things here, things that don’t want change.”

                            “Like what?” asked Eris in a doubtful tone.

                            “I don’t know but I can feel it. Can’t you? Eris, you’re so busy looking at spread sheets and finances you are losing your second sight! The undercurrents are bubbling up so much we’ll drown before long!  We’re all looking at each other with suspicion, and meanwhile….”

                            “You mean we can trust the Morticians?” asked Jeezel hopefully.  Eris glared at her.

                            “Maybe,”  Trella said.  “Maybe.  We don’t know anything for sure yet.  But I suggest we stop looking at the nuns, I mean the ordinary rank and file nuns,  and the morticians with suspicion and focus on the place itself.  There’s a long dark history to this place.  And if you ask me, Brother Bartolo knows something.”

                            “Surely he’s not behind the whole thing!”

                            “Not behind the whole thing, no, but he knows something.  And the gardener, Brother Babbit. Sassafras told me there’s nothing Brother Babbit doesn’t know about the history of this place, but that he only wants to talk about the plants, you know, the local wildlife and such. And,”  Truella paused dramatically, “Sandra dropped something out while we were smoking weed in the orchard after the reception.  She said Brother Bartolo said he’d seen the Sisters of the Sacred Sepulchre roaming around in the cellar, waiting for orders!”

                            “The sisters of the friggen what?”  Jeezel  sighed. Not more characters to convolute everything even more! “Roaming around in the cellars? Oh come on!”

                            “And that’s not all,” Truella lowered her voice to a whisper. “Sassafras said something about them being reanimated.”

                            Finally, Eris started taking Truella seriously. “Reanimation? I don’t like the sound of that. We’d better find out as much as we can about the sisters of the cellars, who are they, I mean who were they, have they been reanimated before, and what were the circumstances.”

                            “Right ho, I’ll just boogle it, shall I?” Jeezel said sarcastically.

                            Eris rolled her eyes. “No need for the snark. The clues will be here, right here at the Cloisters. We need to check the library, look in every room for clues, check out all the tapestries and paintings, speak to Brother Bartolo and Brother Babbit, but without making them suspicious, mind!  Just pretend an interest in history, no mention of the merger! Keep it light!  And keep it light with the morticians, but keep it superficial, until we know more. And then…,” Eris looked at each of them. “we need to go down to the cellars.  I suggest we do that together.”

                            “We need Frella to come for that,” Truella stated the obvious. The others murmured their agreement.

                            #7508

                            After an eternity of cordial superficial conversation with a vertitable horde of new characters, and despite that some of them seemed either potentially interesting, possibly entertaining, or just downright intriguingly bizarre, Truella badly needed a quiet moment to herself, or in other words, a cigarette.  Excusing herself from a strained attempt at getting to know a prim thin lipped nun whose name escaped her, Truella made her way over to the cloisters beyond the open doors. The courtyard beckoned, a breath of fresh air and a peaceful respite.

                            Leaning against a pillar, Truella took a drag on her cigarette, exhaling long and slowly. Perhaps it was just the shafts of sunlight making it seem that there was so much smoke.  It hadn’t been too bad, after all. What an assorted bag they all were!  Truella hadn’t given any thought to what all these new people she was to merge with would be like ~ she’d been focused on the intrusion into her own pursuits that such a thing would inevitably entail.

                            Rufus seemed to be keeping his distance, but Truella was relishing it, like knowing there’s cheesecake in the fridge for a midnight snack.  Surprisingly, the two nuns Sandra and Sassafras seemed like good eggs underneath those dreadful habits. Truella was glad that Sassafras was her partner for the ritual; certainly it would have been worse with one of those silent ones. She wondered if Sassafras had anything planned, and if she should have thought about the ritual sooner. But then, how could she have known? The assumption had been that the partners would meet, and then come up with something together.   Wasn’t it just a fun getting to know each other game kind of thing?

                            “How many cigarettes are you smoking out here?” Sandra laughed, “Can’t say I blame you though, gawd, will it never end.”  Coughing, she lit a cigarette.  “What is it you’re smoking anyway? What a funny smell, like the bowels of the earth.”

                            Truella Smoke

                            Truella thought this was rather rude, but had to admit that the smoke did smell peculiar.  “That’s exactly what it smells like. And that smoke isn’t from my cigarette.”

                            Fee Fi Finnley Fum, I smell the smoke of a dragon’s bum,Sandra tried to laugh and failed.  “Oh, heck. I don’t like dragons.”

                            “Neither do I,” Truella didn’t like the sound of this at all, but it had given her an idea for her ritual.

                            #7488

                            Despite her initial misgivings, Truella was looking forward to the weekend at the Cloisters.  It had belatedly come to her attention that another group were joining them for the event, the Mortician’s Guild. She wondered if Austreberthe had bitten off more than she could chew, introducing all these new characters at the same time.  But the more people, the more confusion, the better the opportunities to slip off unnoticed and investigate the grounds.

                            Truella was the first to arrive.  Before entering the building, she paused under the shade of a towering eucalyptus tree, taking it all in, receptive to the ancient whispers calling from the surrounding forrest.  A nightingale beckoned from the trees beyond one of the terraces, and Truella was irresistably drawn towards it.  Crunching softly on the crisp dry leaves underfoot and squinting in the bright sunlight, a flash of movement caught her eye.   Was it a bear in the woods? Surely not, not so close to habitation.  Truella inched closer, curious, her muscles tense, keyed in readiness to flee. But she was overdramatising, and made a little self deprecating snort of mirth.

                            The tall man clad in a floor length leather coat heard a snort and paused, wondering how close the wild boar came to the old building. Surely they kept away from people, people were so dangerous.  Pull yourself together, Rufus, old boy, he said to himself.  Why did this place remind him of… well it was no good harking back to that…maybe he should go back inside.  He threw his broad shoulders back and strode out from the cover of the trees, the hem of his coat gathering prickly seeds from the undergrowth.

                            Truella clapped her hands delightedly, and laughed. “Well look at you, you big bear in the woods, you must be one of the guys from the Mortician’s Guild.”

                            Rufus spun round, his duster coat flaring open to reveal the crimson satin lining, his face a picture of moody glowering.  Truella was momentarily nonplussed.  Handsome guy, but what an attitude.  But maybe she should not judge too quickly, after all, he probably resented having to come here.  Maybe she could soften him up over the course of the weekend.

                            “We may as well go in and meet the others. I’m Truella, pleased to meet you,” she said, offering a hand in greeting.  To her surpise, than man took her hand and kissed it. “Rufus, at your service,” he said with a slight bow.  He peered at her and added, “Have we met before? You seem strangely familiar.”

                            “Why yes, so do you!”  He didn’t, but Truella’s hand was tingling warmly from the kiss and she decided to play along.

                            Rufus 2

                            #7378

                            The cauldron of characters was bubbling over, the sub plots and side trips had risen like a tray of cupcakes in a fan assisted oven, and the kettle of confusion was roiling and steaming like fault line geyser. Lisia hadn’t offered much in the way of clarity with her rambling gush, but when she said “upon receiving such an invitation to a villa, what is one to do? Why, attend, of course, darling!” it all seemed so much easier.

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