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  • #493

    Valparaíso, Chile, November 1997
    Cillian Mc Gaughran was finding that dying was longer than he expected. Since Fidelma’s death, twenty years from now, he would have vouched pain would get him on the other side quickly. But it was as if every object his wife had touched was letting him know of her presence. Perhaps they were holding him here…
    He couldn’t wait to be reunited with his dear wife. Sixty six year-old wasn’t old enough to die for many people, but it was enough for him. The world was changing too fast. He decided he had to let go of all these objects. By and by, he had released every one of them… But one.

    Of all of them, this one was very dear to him. An old family artifact that was handed down in the family for as long as he could remember. It was said to have been the property of a famous dancer during the Gold rush period and was rumoured to bring good luck… Lord knows how it came into the family…
    It was dear to him because he had given it to Fidelma when she was having her chemotherapy, battling the blood cancer she had been diagnosed with. It looked wonderful on her delicate features. The wig had not aged since all these years.
    It would surely finish him off to release that last object.

    Cillian had heard some exuberant stories of a new company named eBargey where things were auctioned on the Internet. New technology he was finding a bit hard to follow the progress though he was not ignorant of it due to his years spent as a high rank officer in the US Army.
    That could be a great way to release the wig. Auction it off, and see how high and how far away it could sell… Perhaps it would find a perfect match.

    :fleuron:

    Chris Bronkelhampton had always loved to cross-dress since he was a child. He was a fine collector of wigs and had many lined up in his secret closet.

    He had just managed to do a risqué plastic surgery operation on a kingpin that would grant him all he had ever dreamt of. He leaned comfortably on his chair, rubbing his hands gleefully.
    Something on the computer screen caught his eye. On the newly auctioned items there was something that he wouldn’t have dreamt of acquiring in his wildest dreams.

    #484

    A swirling motion emerged from nothing in the hatching room. Irtak was feeling a bit dizzy and his link with Heckle and Jeckle flinched a bit. He was in constant communication with them since their hatching and he had felt his thought process merge with theirs… He’d been feeling weird for some time and had seen images of things that had already happen (normal), or things that had not yet happen (a bit weirdo), and things that could have happen or had happened in another timeline, and things that may appear in this timeline or that were related to another… he had had difficulties juggling with that and if he had been alone he thought he would have kill himself or just loose every bit of control he had thought he had… WTM

    He was learning quickly what Malvina already knew and what had been her own path so to speak when she had bonded with Leörmn. Another weird thing is that since his own bonding with the twins, he was feeling their “father” more and was understanding him better. He was connected to him strongly through them. He was then aware of the arrival of “strangers” and was aware also that the man was connected to him. He could not feel the link yet or understand it. He felt different but so similar to himself. And in a way Irtak was associating this dizziness to the man. What was his name again? The Georges?

    The woman he could see through the twins awareness of their father’s awareness was awesome, he felt strongly attracted to her. He couldn’t understand, but was sure they also were connected. His heart was beating faster, as if meeting an old friend he hadn’t seen for so many years.

    Wodd! he thought.

    He was placing the new eggs in the Hatching Room, it was crowded. He had never seen that. So many dragon eggs.

    :recycle:

    Wodd! Another energy surge, like some aspects switching swiftly and smoothly. His perception had shifted again. He felt the reassuring presence of his friends, in the background so to speak, but so close. They knew he had to go through it alone and were just here supportive energies. They were playing and shape-shifting so swiftly, as to facilitate his own movement. At one time they were like a blond girl dancing and a filthy heavy man burping. At another they were like a scrawny horse and a man with a strange hat on his head. At another again, they were just blurred and smelly cherry alcohol… Trying to focus on all those changes was making him dizzier. But he was also feeling the easiness in his own movement if he didn’t oppose the process.

    All the eggs were shining and changing colors, he knew it was their different forms and colors in different timelines and also in different probable lines… He saw for a moment like a big airy fish, translucent and wow so big. It was straddling dimensions and it had a strange shrimpy companion always gravitating around.

    The eggs were all put together, not too close, and not to far away to create some resonance between them… Who would be here for the hatching? Who would bond with them? He was feeling odd as if it will all be taken care of in time.

    — OK! it’s over, now we can join Malvina and welcome our guests.

    He heard himself speaking with so many voices, some young, some older, and some even feminine voices.

    :face-crying:

    The dragons were wearing their blond wig again, like twin dancers… laughing and having so much fun.

    #481

    Veranassessee carried the box carefully, periodically checking to make sure it was securely fastened. He was sure Dr Bronkelhampton would be pleased with the initiative he’d shown. Buying 100 breeding pairs of Blue Bonnet Spiders was a stroke of genius, he thought. They were known to eat mosquitos, and Veranassessee (or V’ass for short) was confident that he’d made a wise decision.

    #465
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Al was discussing with Sam on the phone.
      He was reminded of the good advices Tina had told him to try before Hari Amgic: a treatment based on organic sulfur for his hair loss…
      All he could get at the time was frizzy blond hair that would fall like red leaves in autumn…

      But now all was for the best for his hair, he had maintained his hair at a manageable and sustainable growth rate, but somehow this seemed to have been sent back on his nails which were now growing alarmingly fast…

      At least he had a perfect excuse since no shoe would be stretchable enough, to wander barefoot as he liked to do, though Tina was finding that a bit yucky.

      This had been seen in the past apparently, as Al was searching in the World’s Archives…

      #446
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        About time you woke up, came a familiar grumpy voice from behind a pile of logs. Mandrake emerged. And I don’t have fur balls, he added, haughtily.

        Mandrake, thank God! Arona had been a little concerned that , given the amount of time presumably had passed, Mandrake may no longer be with them. Tactfully she kept this to herself, given Mandrake’s especially truculent mood.

        Please tell me what happened now, she said to Vincentius. I think I am ready to hear.

        Vincentius looked uncertain, sighed , but agreed to tell her the tale. Afterwards, Arona was silent for quite some time. She stared thoughtfully at the fire, mesmerised by the dancing flames, gently stroking Mandrakes silky black coat.

        Oh bugger, she said eventually and stood up decisively. I really think I have to go and see that old lizardy croney woman, and without delay.

        I wish you wouldn’t, but I do understand, said Vincentius sadly.

        I don’t understand, said Mandrake crossly, twitching his tail impatiently and narrowing his green eyes

        Arona went over to the sleeping Yikesy and studied him with fond interest. He is not getting any better looking with age is he? She kissed him tenderly on the cheek and whispered in his ear.

        Thank you so much for caring for him, she said to Vincentius and gave him a huge hug.

        On the way out of the cave she ran into Leormn.

        Oh, she said, Vincentius said you allowed us to use the room. Thank you so much. And she kissed Leormn on what she thought would be his cheek, however, a little unsure of Dragon anatomy, it may have been technically a snout or something.

        Arona walked rapidly for several hours, trying to concentrate on the directions given to her by Vincentius and hoping that she was headed in the right direction. Eventually she started to tire and her determination faded. She sat down on a rock and closed her eyes. Her shoulders slumped in weariness and she despondently wished she was back in the cave with the others. She felt deeply sad.

        And is this something you really must face? asked a kindly voice in her head.

        I have no idea really, she answered despairingly. I don’t know. I mean I thought I knew. I thought if I didn’t then I would always be in fear. When I looked into the flames of the fire it all seemed clear. I needed to understand and face it, I thought anyway….

        hmmm, said the voice. Well the best advice I can give you is to trust yourself.

        Arona opened her eyes and saw, to her surprise, a small cottage in the distance. Why, I don’t remember that cottage being there a moment ago, she thought. It looks just as Vincentius described. How remarkable. I was closer than I thought! Her spirits rose.

        Outside the cottage the old crone was bent over, digging in a small vegetable plot. A basket of cabbages sat by her side. She stood up at Arona’s approach, wiping the dirt from her gnarly hands on her apron.

        Hello Arona, she cackled. I have been expecting you. I don’t believe we were properly introduced last time. My name is Lucille. And she held out a hand for Arona to shake.

        I have come to get some answers from you, said Arona, firmly crossing her arms and ignoring the outstretched hand.

        Lucille sighed and dropped her hand. Her pointy chin quivered, and Arona noticed a big wart, with one thick black hair growing out of it, right on the tip of lucille’s chin. She tried not to stare.

        Alright little one, Lucille said soflty. Why don’t you go and wait in the orchard. I will go and fix us a nice, cool drink of lemonade.

        The orchard was full of old fruit trees, their twisted trunks reminded Arona of Lucille herself. From one of the trees hung an old swing. Arona sat on it, holding the rope, and gently rocked herself back and forwards, thinking. She had to admit, she was, quite frankly puzzled. The visit so far wasn’t going as expected.

        She kept rocking, faster now.

        She hit her heels into the hard earth again and again.

        I don’t know. She tried to dig these words into the earth with her heels.

        Then she sidestepped her feet in crab-like movements in diminishing circles. The ropes of the swing twisted tighter and tighter.

        Arona leant backwards and stuck her legs out straight in front of her. The ropes unwound and sent her spinning. weeeeeeeeeeee hoooooooooooooooo!

        She looked up into the sky. Blue sky through the trees with racing spinning clouds. She felt dizzy.

        She stood up and braced herself against the seat of the swing. She held onto the ropes and pushed hard against the seat beneath her. She bent her knees under the swing. She kicked her feet forwards.

        She wanted to go higher. She bent her legs back under the swing. Then kicked them outwards. She stretched her body backwards and arched her back.

        I don’t know, she whispered.

        She sat upright. She bent her legs back under the swing. Then kicked them as hard as she could. She leant her body backwards. She stretched as far as she could. On the rebound her heels hit the ground hard, but still she wanted to keep going higher and higher.

        I DON’T KNOW! she shouted, as loudly as she could.

        :fleuron:

        Lucille returned with the lemonade.

        How do I know if it is safe to drink this? Arona asked. You have cast one spell on me, how am I to know this is not another?

        Lucille cackled. Dear little Arona, she said, if I wanted to cast a spell on you I would have done it before now.

        Okay, well that makes good sense, thought Arona, gratefully drinking the lemonade.

        #380
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

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

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

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

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

          #379
          Jib
          Participant

            Sam had a sudden impulse… he went out to the body shop and bought some dyeing stuff…
            He ended with greenish and purplish hair with pistachio shades… brilliant he thought, brilliant.
            And then he focused a bit on his wrist and let the shape shifting take place… he was now wearing a beautiful lively phoenix tatoo. The bird had just been rebirthed and was still like a tiny pooh.. he was crawling up his arm and growing fast.

            With a big grin of satisfaction, Sam called his friends Tina and Becky and asked her where they were and told her to hurry, they had to meet the others at the grumbling lake in an hour.

            :yahoo_good_luck:

            #372
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Becky yawned and blinked. What a dream she’d had, full of babies! :yahoo_surprise: And they had all been squalling and crying at once, making her head spin and deafening her :yahoo_not_listening:

              Well, only a dream she said, and went to make coffee. :yahoo_coffee: Whilst eating her breakfast a little later that afternoon (she had overslept well past noon), she perused the Reality Times newspaper. :news: There was a big advertisement for the forthcoming opening of the new T.R.A.P. Amusement Park and it reminded her that Sean would be arriving soon from Dublin. :bounce:

              Unaware of any association with her thoughts about Sean, Becky picked up her telephone and booked an appointment for a haircut. :yahoo_on_the_phone:

              #352
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                If Tina hadn’t hung up the phone so fast, Becky mumbled to herself, I could have told her I was with Sam, and she could say hello to him herself. And I could have asked her to come over and help me try to get some rice water down him.

                So far he’d refused, asking instead for flowers and sweets. Delirious, Becky suspected, and running a fever. And still scribbling all that jibberish!

                #345
                Jib
                Participant

                  Sam was quite pleased actually to be so unwell, it was giving him an excuse not to go out in the newly flooded city… it was quite unusual and sudden, and he was also quite pleased that the flood was just stopping at the first floor ;))

                  Well he had news from Becky who wanted to come here and bring him some flowers and sweets. And he realized that he himself hadn’t their phone numbers… he’ll have to ask his friends.

                  The bell!!! :-O

                  :yahoo_time_out:

                  Becky was already here!? He was still in pajamas, Foo’kin gondolas, so much faster than the cabs…

                  #323

                  — The legend of Mævel — (Part II)

                  The young fairy princess, whose secret name had been forgotten, and thus her very existence to whoever had known her, grew up as a beautiful child.
                  Mævel she was, and the youngest of the clan too. Her delicate features stood out of the many children that Jorg and Ilga, her human parents already had, and they first saw her as probably their most useless child, being frail and unfit to the works of the woods. But she’d been saved from a sure death, and that had proved to them that the child was some odd gift from the Gods.

                  Mævel looking at her brothers and sisters, was constantly reminded of how different she was, as small and fair and fragile as a sparfly’s egg. She helped her mother Ilga as much as she could in the kitchen, preparing meals for the clan. Her parents did not know how she could ever get a husband, as she would never be much of a great cook either.
                  So, she was feeling not fulfilled by what she was doing. She loved her parents, and sisters, and brothers, but there was something else that she did not know how to express.
                  During the springing and sunny seasons, and even the rainy and icy one, she would go after her works had been done to the little meadow brook, and watch for hours the little rosy trouts dancing in the clear waters.

                  And much of her young years passed, and she learned how to cook, how to sew and how to wash clothes and many other tasks that could help the family. She had improved much in her skills and could do wonderful adornments to her sisters and brothers clothes. But noone cared about the adornments, which would be useless for them. But they loved their little sister nonetheless, though they did not understand.
                  Soon, all the elder brothers left the house, one by one, and the sisters too. And as Mævel turned twenty one, she was left alone with old Jorg and old Ilga.

                  That day, her parents had offered her a pearl white ribbon, for her to tie her hair, and they had thought it would probably please her, as it was as useless a thing as their mind could imagine. And indeed she was delighted by the gift, and to please her parents, she had danced and sung in the night, barefooted on the floorboard, her shiny golden hair swirling around her, as they both loved her to do.

                  The next day, Mævel went to the brook to wash some clothes, when she noticed a reddish bluish spark of light coming from the forest nearby. How strange she thought. Perhaps it is only my imagination. But soon, a plaintiff cry came from the same direction, and she was deeply moved by the cry.
                  Leaving her clothes to dry up, she went to the forest, knowing she could trust her instincts and that no wild beast would harm her. Calling to see if someone was there, a voice called her, crying “here, here!”

                  Behind some fern trees, she was surprised as she saw a wounded blue fox. Was it the fox that had spoken?
                  — Yes, that was me, answered the blue fox
                  — Oh, a talking fox! You are wounded, aren’t you? asked Mævel
                  — Yes, a stupid arrow from a stupid hunter… I can’t extract it, would you help me?
                  — Of course, answered Mævel, hold on a second.

                  And she leaned forward to draw the arrow from the fox’s leg, holding fast so that it would not hurt the creature. She was just knowing what to do, as if she had done it many times already. Then she drew out her white handkerchief, and bandaged the bleeding wound, tying it tightly with her pearl white ribbon.

                  — I must leave now, said the fox, I am greatly indebted to you, young lady
                  — Will you tell me your name?
                  — I am called Blohmrik. And may I inquire as to your name?
                  — I’m called Mævel, but you can call me Mæ
                  — Such a lovely name…
                  — How come you are a talking fox?
                  — I was not always in the form that you see now. This form is due to a curse from the God of the Forgotten, from which I foolishly tried to stole secrets when I was a young god learning magic.
                  Ooh, so you are a god? Mævel was amazed
                  — Oh, smiled sadly the fox, as you are also, though you probably don’t realize. Gods are not so different than what you think…
                  — Oh, really? So there isn’t anything I can do for you, is there?
                  — You have already done much for today Mæ
                  Mævel was blushing… She dared ask to her new friend
                  — And will I see you again?
                  — Perhaps sooner than you know.

                  #304

                  Írtak was playing with the dragon twins in the carved woodstones field. It was mostly faced shaped petrified wood that had been carved surely when it was still wood. The faces were quite hypnotic and made him feel often sleepy, but with the dragons he was feeling all his senses enhanced and sharpened. :face-glasses:

                  The dragons were growing fast, hatched only a few days ago, they were already bigger than his father… He knew from Malvina that they could take whatever form they wanted, but he’d always thought that their power were developing from nothing to … something… but apparently they were already fully aware. Their leather skin was glowing emerald green, blended with some purple pink shades, or was it the contrary. It was changing so quickly. He was wondering what they were eating, because he wasn’t the one who was giving them any food. And still they were so big.
                  Did they have a “real” form? Whatever that meant.

                  One of the dragon gave him a mischievous glance and before he could anticipate what would happen, he was facing a growling troll :yahoo_time_out:. The troll was running right to him, seemingly crushing with his heavy body all the fragile woodstoned faces.

                  All his attention was on the troll and he didn’t hear the man coming.
                  And now the troll was freezed running and jumping forever… Írtak’s head was like a big storm of boulders falling from the sky. Growling, drumbling apart…

                  — You have strange games with your dragons.
                  — …

                  He was gaping at the man… his skin was bluish with pink also and sometimes a bit of yellow.

                  — Who are you?
                  — Don’t you recognize me? :face-grin:

                  Írtak tried to remember something. had he ever met that man before?

                  — Oh right, it’s our first meeting… from your point of view. I’d forgotten that. But you see, for me our first meeting is in your future.
                  — …

                  Írtak was still gaping at the man, this strange skin of him, it was so ambrulin, that color he’d already see somewhere… was it in a dream?
                  The man looked at him, and he felt for a moment a warm fuzzy feeling in his body… not particularly located in any part of it… and he would have… no, it was even in the woodstoned faces around him… how could he feel that?

                  — Your dragons are wanting to take part in the fun, the man smiled. I’m going to let them go, as I’m not staying either.
                  — Who are you? managed Írtak.

                  :yahoo_alien:

                  — I’m your father…
                  :yahoo_alien:
                  HAHAHAHAHAH! No actually that’s a private joke… I’m Andrimiñ (AndruhMiiñ?) we’ll meet again in a few years of your time. Your dragons are really interesting then, and so are you.

                  Saying that, the time began to flow again in the right direction, the troll was still running toward him, but he suddenly slowed down and stopped, shape shifting into a bluish boy, with a face so similar to Andrimiñ.

                  — Where’s the funny man? he said.

                  #295

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

                  Becky was enjoying preparing the itinerary.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                  #228

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

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

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

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

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

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

                  >> :yahoo_big_hug: <<

                  #209
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    By the time Illi had finished reading the newspaper article she felt thoroughly confused. Mechanically she folded the newspaper neatly and then lit a cigarette, resting her elbows on the breakfast table and her chin in her hands. She gazed through the ribbons of blue smoke and the dust drifting through the sunbeams, wondering if she was dreaming, dead, or alive. It was becoming so hard to tell the difference.

                    Oh well, I’ll think about it later, she thought, and mentally popped it into her clue and riddle box. Her mind wandered back to the story she’d just been reading, and the charming illustrations. The drawing of the young man in the white robe had seemed familiar, and she liked his name too…Sanso, The Wanderer.

                    As she imagined him, she felt herself lurch ever so slightly sideways, and as she did, the image in her mind of Sanso became suddenly life-like…incredibly so! He was looking at her in astonishment, and taking a step backwards, saying Lordy! not another one appearing out of thin air!

                    Illi looked around and found herself not in the sunny breakfast room but in a sandy cave, with a little girl in a wooly jumper, a young man in a white robe holding a large rusty key, and a parrot.

                    Suddenly Illi didn’t care anymore whether she was alive or dead, dreaming or awake. This was beginning to look like fun.

                    #194

                    Illi felt much better, and was sitting at the breakfast table, basking in the warm shafts of sunlight filtering in through the window, and listening to the birds singing in the lemon tree outside.

                    BelleDora came in from the kitchen bearing a large tray with freshly squeezed buckberry juice, soft boiled eggs in pistachio green eggcups and bread and butter soldiers, and The Reality Times newspaper.

                    Illi wasn’t in the habit of reading the news, but occasionally found an article of interest. Todays headlines looked intriguing: Fiona’s Diary: never before published excerpts of the Malvina Dragon saga.

                    #141

                    Dory had been taking some days of vacation in Madagascar, as she had delayed that break in her passionate archeology studies for much too long already. But it was now the beginning of the rainy season, and there hadn’t been much people here in her hotel, which was not displeasing at all, even if she usually liked more exchanges.

                    Hopefully, today had been a bright sunny day, a sort of relief in between torrents of rains that had poured, and she had seen some organized excursion which had caught her eye. A funny enticing winking lemur picture on a wall, when she had walked to have her breakfast, and that was all she’d needed to enlist.

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