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  • #1984

    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      TIME TO face THE words, LONG forgotten. Georges DIDN’T understand BUT SANSO noticed AND askED ABOUT THE trip. TED wondered ABOUT THE saloon, AND BECKY WONDERED ABOUT DR bronklehampton AND ALL THAT money. CLUES within key POINTS following huge COMMENTS, ALL happening NOW. A NICE round read gave ME AN INSIGHT TO THE times OF THE story THIS morning.

      :yahoo_idk:

      #1983

      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

      TracyTracy
      Participant

        THE book, OR THE story HAD MANY aspects. sam AND everyone INCLUDING THE family WERE behind AND COULDN’T tell WHICH body WAS perfect AND WHICH WAS blue. SO MANY synch’S caught MY EYE, AND ALL WERE key. WHATEVER age YOU ARE, A random READ IS QUITE AN experience. ALL eyes ARE able TO SEE THE light, WHETHER IT BE lemon, god OR whatever. A huge followING, full OF nice focused structures.

        :yahoo_applause:

        #570

        It’s a very nice name, Arona. But you must have been dreaming. My name isn’t Floyd in this focus.

        Oh bugger it! said Arona, not really listening to Floyd, or whatever he said his name was. Floyd, they look like nice people don’t you think?,… a bit weirdo perhaps but the monkey is cute … and I do love dancing. I have not danced in ages. Oh let’s just join in anyway!

        Well, I am not really dressed for it, and I am not much of a dancer … answered Floyd uneasily.

        We can be anyone we want to be! responded Arona, in an unusually irrepressible mood. let’s just close our eyes and imagine how we want to look, and let’s go! Don’t forget to smile will you.

        Arona and Floyd join in the Disco Dance

        That was fun! and you are a great dancer Floyd! laughed Arona. And thanks Guys! hope we didn’t interrupt anything, she called out to the new arrivals at the cave.

        Not at all, join in anytime! answered Georges with a smile.

        Actually, Arona, it’s Sanso, not Floyd, said Sanso.

        Oh right! sorry … I was sure you said Floyd, silly me. I often get things mixed up, apologised Arona, graciously. Anyway, I think I had better go back and see what Yikesy is up to. I left him playing with that Salumbmatibum thingy. Goodness only knows what he will have created!

        #567

        Veranassessee (V’ass) Eloha, swimming like a naiad in the waves of the sapphire sea bordering the island of Tikfijikoo, was back in a few powerful strokes on the wooden planks of the pier from which she had just fallen.

        Trained in many martial arts and in the art of concealing her emotions, she effortlessly managed to maintain a perfect composure despite the fact that this unexpected moment of inattention may have cost the loss of the precious box of rare Blue Bonnet spiders —the venom of which was needed for the good success of the “treatments”.

        Sharon and Gloria, still cackling unceasingly, thanked Armando, the pilot of the seaplane, who had entertained them no end with his stories of mysterious wreckages and lost aircrafts.
        Now they’d just landed on this paradisaic island, and a gorgeous woman dripping in water was extending them a firm hand, greeting them.

        :fleuron:

        Al was wondering who had jinxed his last entry in the play, that he had to write twice, since some invisible mischievous hand had just made him lose the first in the /dev/null dimension.
        Good thing the Sumafairies bent over his crib had been gifting him with a good memory…

        :fleuron:

        Welcome at Tikfijikoo, where your kewlest dreams come troo.

        V’ass was satisfied. Though, most of the box had been lost, she had managed to save two couples of spiders, which would be enough for the two turkeys. :yahoo_chicken:
        As for the remaining ones, let’s just hope they’re all dead and drowned.

        #565
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          It had been a long trip home, and Dory was glad the journey was over. She sat on the patio in the warm winter sunshine, surrounded by affectionate wet doggy noses who prodded her arm, making her slop her fresh squeezed orange juice. The birds twittered and screeched in the lemon and olive trees. She closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure. Home!

          The screeching turned into a long drawn out yowl, and it was a moment or two before Dory realized that monkey Charlie had rounded up a gang of his canine buddies for another cat mauling expedition down at the bottom of the garden. Dory leapt to her feet and ran down the cobbled path, shrieking at the dogs to stop. She rescued the limp and traumatized, but thankfully unhurt cat, and wondered again what she was reflecting to herself every time her dogs ganged up on one of her cats.

          Shaking slightly, she sat down again in the patio chair, cradling the wide eyed cat, her fur standing in sticky peaks of dog saliva. Dory had stroked the fur smooth, and relaxed. Home! It was great to be home.

          #1974

          In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            WOW… lots of interesting ones in that cloud here:

            — Once under thinking, session clear words God/Human waiting speaking word, language beginning feeling looked. Key herself aware […]
            — Gaughran home looking funny random energies
            — Tracy floating, magic color seemed trip
            — Points side mountains, process great
            — Bugger difficult! Nice interesting moment link :bounce: creating action
            — Trust help face aspects seems play
            — Structures changing… Dancing green heart Finn
            Badul getting synch princess
            Twilight book important
            Elikozoe stories singing magical times. Able feel sort understand images mind, read Armelle. Voice started moments sync call Maevel

            #1972

            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

            Jib
            Participant

              =)) what an omen :))

              quintin anna telling rose gave opened wondering sighed growing yourself laughing eyes mandrake particular key gift creating yikesy color game happened

              #543

              The bal room was ready. Malvina was looking around and decided that all was perfect now
              She felt the subtle ripples of her friends energy. Sam was waiting patiently their arrival.

              The east wall just blurred and began to glow lightly of deep teal and emerald shades, blended in a beautiful and quite creative whirlpool.

              Malvina just moved her attention on the encoding of her hair and shift slightly some hue to express a dark stary night, sparkling and full of mystery.

              A thrill went through her body as she saw Georges and Salome emerge from the wall… and she burst into laughter at the sight of the marmoset which was looking at her with such a big smile :face-monkey:

              Her laugh rippled through the crystals of the cave, making their light iridescent and swinging.

              WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! A giant disco ball :bounce: just for us.

              Georges couldn’t stop laughing and began dancing as Salome was generating a peppy and swinging music… he was all jumping and swirling, and Sam was jumping all around, barking at him with joy.

              — What the hell, began Leörmn but he was fascinated.

              And that’s when a wavy Irtak entered the discave with his 2 dragons… they immediately changed shape and began to swirl around with Georges, and Irtak was wondering if he was dreaming or if it was another process in his discovery… he was feeling as if he was dancing as the man-Georges. :yahoo_hypnotized: His body just started moving following the movements of Georges and they were just one.

              #506

              Beattie and Leonora had finished unpacking their belongings, and had rearranged the meager furnishings of the little white washed cottage. There was one item as yet unpacked: a sturdy wooden crate.

              What are we going to do with them, Bea?

              Hmmm? Beattie looked up from the computer. Oh, the bloody skulls. Well, not on the mantelpiece that’s for sure! We’ll have to hide them again. How about in the old bread oven outside?

              There’s an idea, replied Leonora. Give us a hand then, Bea

              But Beattie was busy tapping away at the keyboard. Well, what a coincidence! she cackled, turning round to face Leo. Bert’s found another one!

              #1959

              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

              TracyTracy
              Participant

                key remembered! :yahoo_applause:
                sync armelle energies! :yahoo_not_worthy:

                #499

                Thanksgiving, 1847

                That last business trip in British Honduras had proven fruitful to Aldous. It had almost made him forget about the blue bull of the Disperso family.
                Because Aldous was a collector. No one truly understood what were his motivations, but he was driven by the highest ideals. Some treasures weren’t deserved by the profane, he was thinking as he was munching on a tender juicy turkey leg.
                He belched with profound depth.
                Yes, he was doing everything with utmost depth and dedication.

                Take that blue bull for instance… A gift from Indian officials he had managed to have them bring here. Its real place was in a zoo, with a small fee at the entrance of course, but most importantly some information on how it was acquired and by whom. Definitely not in the farm of some hillbillies just because they have happened to win that stupid rodeo contest.
                In any case, he would put that right again in due time.

                Let’s think of more pleasant things. Like these mahogany traders who had came into contact with remote Mayan tribes. Mahogany was nice, but Mayan treasure were even more interesting.

                #492

                Yurick found a very nice surprise in his mailbox. A parcel from his red bearded friend Gustav with whom he had not spoken much till Vienna .
                Funnily it was for Yurick’s birthday, and his birthday was almost two months ago. And yet, it was perfectly synchronous with his many friends popping birthdays. Malika first, soon followed by Aina, and others.

                In the parcel, there was a big stuffed panda, and an old video game Yurick was very fond of when he was a kid. It was called Monkey Island… A funny pirate’s game. He liked the island and monkey imageries. Like being in an island recently, yet not being cut off from the rest of the world…

                Oh, and there was another game, one he didn’t know about, Grim Fandango, with skeletons on the cover, like playing some strange cluedo game…

                And a novel from Proust, with Yurick’s name on it! A parody from the style of Proust’s contemporary, Balzac included…

                Wow… so many syncs. He would call his friend in the afternoon.

                #487

                Jo was looking at Mc Gaughran. He didn’t like him. Especially since he was so insistant at buying their ranch. It was not the price that was important. Mc Gaughran had offered them much already and Jo was a bit shamefull that he even once considered the offer. They had a little argument about that with Elroy, and he had felt very tore appart opposing his brother. He was very close to him and was admiring him so much.

                And he was feeling very protective toward his sister. She could do whatever she wanted, that was not the point. The point was he didn’t want other to bother her. And that Mc Gaughran was looking at her a bit too insistantly to his taste.

                He finished his whiskey an looked at the barman, Thomas. He was a very good friend of Elroy and him and was like a giant dwarf, stout and big red beard. He knew he could count on him to have a look at the man.

                — Have to go, Tommee, he mumbled. Be back later.

                Despite his disgust of Mc Gaughran, he also had some stuffs to check about the new man in town. He was feeling a bit unseasy as if some things would be unfolded, things that should better stay burried. He left the saloon like a shadow.

                #455

                Mavis was having trouble with her keyboard. I wonder if it’s dust? she thought. Oh maybe it needs batteries!

                She wanted to reply to the mysterious email.

                Bugger! said Mavis, Now I really will have to go out in thain….arrghh, she exclaimed, the RAIN….bugger the damn keyboard….

                #1579

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  well F, how about a rose for maligned Tracy mistaken for a turkey? :yahoo_angry:

                  #1577

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    straight after i said i had no turkey synchs i read this in my Yann book

                    “What a stunning creature. How apt that in full it is a Royal Bengal tiger. I counted myself lucky. What if I had ended up with a creature that looked ugly or silly, a tapir or an ostrich, or a flock of turkeys “

                    (that’s a bit rude to Turkeys)

                    hahhahahah when I looked at the word “Turkey” for a moment I read “Tracy”

                    A rose for the maligned Turkey :yahoo_rose:

                    #1394
                    Jib
                    Participant

                      Does the world alzheimer work? or the word puppies or the word house and holidays… mmm buy a new car? or save money?
                      or monkey island? the big mama is drunk and she gives you soup…

                      #424

                      — The legend of Mævel — (Part VII)

                      Today was the Day of the Forgotten. Mævel had slept well, nestled into the soft and warm depth of her dreams, her head resting on the short blue fur of the fox.
                      In sharp contrast with the lovely night, she awoke strangely irritated. Even the birds songs were like noise to her ears, and every sound of the forest she heard with acute intensity and a sense of being submerged by many sensory inputs.
                      Hopefully, the blue fox voice was still very comforting, and she started to wonder how they could come across a Forgotten One in need.

                      — I think I know where we can find some Forgotten One in need.
                      — Where? asked Mævel

                      The fox paused, then answered her question:
                      — Near your human parents’ home.

                      Mævel was surprised. She trusted the fox, and never had really questioned him, because more than that she trusted her own feelings, but now her feelings were telling her that there was something the fox had not told her. Or had told her partially. She was silent, pondering the unseen implications.

                      — Mæ, I’ll try my best to answer your questions, but remember I cannot tell you everything. I can help you remember some things, but there are things that my curse does not allow me to reveal. You have to find them by your own, in order to free us…
                      — Free us? I thought you were the one Cursed?…
                      — Yes I am, and…
                      — How do you know my parent’s home? How much do you know about me?
                      — I know you since you are a baby actually. And even before…
                      — Before? I don’t understand a thing… I feel there are some unseen links, that I cannot decipher, yet they are so close to…
                      — You’re right, there are links, links that are important, and that I cannot reveal.
                      — Why can’t you reveal them?
                      — Let’s go to your human parent’s home…
                      — Why do you always say my human parents?

                      The fox blew in front of him, creating a wobbling sound into the air in the form of a ring large enough for them to go through it. And he hopped inside, disappearing in mid-air.

                      Mævel was perplexed, but did not hesitate. She hopped too into the watery ring in front of her and found herself falling into a void, to reemerge on a bed of dry leaves in front of her parent’s home. Blohmrik the blue fox was seated in front of her, observing a shadowy form at a distance in front of them.

                      — Is that the Forgotten One we will help?
                      — Yes.
                      — Why do you need me? You could help her, couldn’t you?
                      — She wouldn’t see me, Forgotten Ones are usually obsessed by a few people, those who they feel can remember them, and don’t usually see other people. Their perception is quite different than ours.
                      — Hang on a minute… Why do you think she will see me?

                      Mævel looked into the eyes of the fox, and she knew.

                      — We are linked.

                      It was more an affirmation than a question.
                      Mævel wondered who that shadowy figure was. When she focused on her, the form was getting more solid, and she could catch glimpses of how she looked like. And she was surprised. She was about her age, with long blond hair as hers.
                      Mævel’s voice was broken:
                      — My parents had told me I was about to die when I was a baby, then by a sort of miracle, I became healthy… Was that true?… I mean… Was that a gentle way of telling me that I had a twin who died or…
                      — No, Mæ. She is not you. She is not linked to you by blood. You can talk to her, she will listen to you.

                      So Mævel went to see the shadowy figure. She had stopped wandering and trying to find an opening around the house, for there were none for spirits: all openings were locked by stripes of red cloth hung onto the doors and windows.
                      Mævel felt the pain of the Forgotten One as she approached her.

                      — Who are you? she suddenly asked Mævel, raising her head at her approach.
                      — I am Mævel.
                      Mævel… It means marvel of Maÿ… I was born in Maÿ…
                      — What are you doing here?
                      — This is my parents’ home.
                      — How is that possible?
                      — Twenty one year ago, I was taken away from them, given to Shaint Lejüs in place of a fairy princess. But Shaint Lejüs was no fool, he had sent his apprentice to spy on the fairy king.
                      — Blohmrik?!
                      — Yes, Blohmrik… But Blohmrik disobeyed the Elder God, and when he saw the exchange that was about to happen, he let it happen. He wanted to protect the fairy princess from his master. Because Shaint Lejüs wanted the princess as a bride. Ahahaha, how disappointed Lejüs was when he saw that I could not perform the most basic magic spells. I was good at nothing, so he let me go wandering into his Realm. He’d just thought the half-fairy princess had inherited no magic from her father.
                      — How do you know all that?

                      — I told her, the blue fox said. I was hoping to bring her relief. But she started to look for her parents, and Lejüs discovered the truth… Because she was not looking for a fairy king. She was heading here, year after year.
                      — That’s the reason of your curse, is it?
                      — Yes. She can’t see me because I was Forgotten too, in that form of a blue fox. But as Forgotten Ones don’t forget, I didn’t forget. I couldn’t tell her, because she couldn’t see me.
                      — So, I am that fairy princess you are talking about… that strange idea was starting to dawn on Mævel.
                      — Yes. When Lejüs discovered who you were, he wasn’t interested in you any longer, because he thought your magical potential had been irremediably damaged by all those years spent in human company.

                      — Who are you talking to? the shadowy figure asked, bemused.
                      — Blohmrik, he is here. But it’s untrue, Mævel said, there is magic in me.
                      — Yes there is, answered the blue fox, and you can undo what has been done with it.

                      Mævel remembered the useless key she had manifested when she had tried to go out of her human parents’ house. She had not even looked at it closely.

                      — You can manifest it again Mæ, said the fox. It is with you. You are its lock.

                      And no sooner had Mævel thought of the big rusted key, than it appeared in her hand again. But this time the rust on it was crackled, and it started to disintegrate, and a brilliant shiny metal started to show beneath it.

                      Scratching what was left of the rust, Mævel started to look at the beautiful key, it was shaped as a musical note, and it had some word written on it, in an ancient language she didn’t know how to read. But she knew the sound when she ran her finger on the surface of the word.

                      « Araoni »

                      That was her. She was remembering, and everything started to change.

                      :fleuron2:

                      The wedding of the God Blohmrik, son of Mirÿnda, Goddess of Mirth and of Bälias, God of the Sparkles with Araoni, daughter of the Fairy Queen Theÿa and the Fairy King Aldurion was pronounced on a bright day of Maÿ, in a beautiful orchard in the presence of Araoni’s human parents and sisters and brothers.

                      Even Lejüs had been invited, even though he would have preferred to be Forgotten…

                      :fleuron:

                      And so my story ends… said Captain Bone to Tomkin.

                      — And was the shadow remembered by her true parents? had asked Tomkin.
                      — Oh, yes she was… Of course. She just didn’t want to steal the limelight from Mævel, you see. Her parents were happy of course to find back their true daughter.
                      — You didn’t tell me the name of the true daughter, did you?
                      — No, I didn’t, said Captain Bone with a wink.

                      #416

                      1/11/2007

                      Finn felt the time had come to call a meeting.

                      She closed her eyes and waited to see which of the others would appear.

                      Yuni1 arrived first. Yuni had first arrived in her meditations about a year ago, a playful, mischievous character, gnomelike, who nonetheless had always given her very wise and practical advise. Armelle the wise Owl appeared next, silently, her loving energy enveloping Finn. The Indian also appeared. Finn did not know the Indian’s name, she called him White Feather and she was pleased to see him there, having not seen him for some time. A playful Lemur came bounding over. There were several other energies present and Finn knew they would make their identity known if needed, but she could feel their support.

                      I have been feeling quite heavy for several months now and it has been becoming more intense. I am tired of it. It’s as though I am wearing the cloak of heaviness again. I don’t understand it, and I don’t know how to take it off, Finn announced to the assembled group.

                      I want to know if you can help me?

                      Yuni spoke first, or rather he waved the faith document2 at her. Finn winced. She remembered the document well. I didn’t know you meant this long, she said quietly.

                      Armelle gave her a gift. When Finn opened the box, there was a joyful explosion of light and colour. There was also a key.

                      The key is Self Trust, said Finn, answering Armelle’s unspoken question.

                      White Feather had been whittling a piece of wood. He handed it to Finn. It was a staff. This symbolises powerful magic, he told her.

                      Finn felt herself withdraw, not wanting to cause offense and reject the gift, yet not feeling worthy.

                      This is your decision, said White Feather

                      Finn felt Armelle smile at her. She took the staff and thanked White Feather.

                      Do you remember the boxes you made as a child? asked Armelle

                      Finn nodded. It was one of the games she had loved to play with her older sister, transforming old cardboard boxes into designer rooms. They would painstakingly and lovingly decorate the interiors to create new worlds. Once the rooms were created they may play with them for a few minutes, but would pretty soon be onto the next one, it was the creating they loved.

                      Cast your mind back a few years, Armelle said. What were the things you wanted then?

                      Finn cast her mind back.

                      You have it all don’t you, said Armelle gently.

                      Yes I do, said Finn. Everything I wanted I have in my life.

                      You have created powerfully Finn.

                      Why do I feel so heavy? I suppose because what I thought I wanted has changed and I am trying to still keep it the same. Finn wanted to cry.

                      I don’t really know what I want anymore though.

                      What do you know? asked Armelle

                      I know how I want to feel.

                      :fleuron:

                      Finn was on a raft, floating downstream. She closed her eyes and decided to let the river take her where it will.

                      1 Finn had tried to spell Yuni’s name as Uni initially, interpreting him to be symbolic of one of the “faeries of the Universe”, however Yuni had been adamant that was not the correct spelling. When Finn looked up Yuni only meaning she could find was “man from Iunu”.

                      2 The “Faith Document” was like a legal document Yuni gave Finn to sign, indicating that whatever happened she would keep trusting. Finn was surprised to note when she looked up in her records that this was November 1 st, exactly a year ago.

                      #403

                      November, 1 st 2057

                      Sean took another glass of scotch to give him some courage to call.

                      — It’s your twelfth now, that’s supposed to give you courage
                      — Oh, Maggie, my live is such a mess…
                      — It’s not, and you know it. Look at all our beautiful children, and Becky who went through so much just out of love for you…

                      Sean didn’t know whether he was actually seeing the ghost of his deceased wife, or a projection of her, still alive in another part of the Universe, but she always had been a comforting presence.
                      He had started to see her a few months after her disappearance.
                      Yes, during that T.R.A.P. expedition, yeah, “live-changing experience” they had said… True, too true… Perhaps the electromagnetic field had messed up with his brains, but now he could see her clear as day.

                      That had been a bit freaky in the beginning, and when they made love with Becky, he was a bit anxious to see her appear not invited. But Margaret had been discrete, well mostly. At times, he wondered if she had not sneaked into the bedroom and merged her energies with Becky’s, just to be closer to him… Becky’s acts did not always make sense anyway, so that was hardly a criterion to judge of that.

                      All his live had been like that. A jumble of incoherent stuff. Oh, he had enjoyed it, especially at the beginning. His father Lord Wrick was obsessed with the Shift, and had found some ancient knowledge in his youth. Mostly rubbish by nowadays standards, bunches of rotten books of prophecies handed down to a few chosen ones, who were supposed to be forewarned of doom to come. Now, they knew that they were only a wake up call, but at that time, it was another thing altogether.

                      Of course, the wealth accumulated over the centuries by the Wrick family had been helpful to access these precious archaeological documents. A few of them had played a key role.
                      For instance, the in-extenso Life and Deeds of Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson, a rare version of the diary of Lord Fergusson, annotated by his daughter, Illi, was telling an account of history much different than the one romanced after his death by his wife Floribunda von Grott.
                      Thanks to it, Lord Wrick had been able to acquire some inkling as to ancient treasures. Old fool…
                      It had killed his wife, Artemisia, devastated by the madness of her husband, and it had alienated the other part of the family too.
                      But all that counted was to make the discoveries, and perhaps enlight the masses.

                      Sean had never really forgave his father that he wanted to utilise Margaret and have her fit into his plans of grandeur. Of course, his father had willingly accepted the union, and despite all appearances (for the sake of those rapacious journalists) he had even pushed Sean to do it quickly. But all he was really interested in was her precious discoveries.

                      — Oh, but I was not innocent, Sean
                      — I know Maggie, you were obsessed by what we could offer to you, especially when you read about the botanical experiments in the deserts, which were related in that old book. But still…
                      — We all had grown up through that, you know…
                      — Yes, and what showed me that, was that I was concerned that the old vampire would suck my own children into his web, but Peregrine was too free for that, and Guinevere preferred to live her live outside of this madness too.
                      Becky had a good influence. Do me a favour, be kind to her.
                      — You know what?… Yes of course you’d know,… but let me tell you, so that we can laugh together… I found myself really happy and free when I stole the two magical books out of the Old Fool’s clutch. God knows how he acquired them, but one thing was sure, he was obsessed with them. I couldn’t get the mummy, but the books were a great take.
                      — And a funny idea to give them to your cousin…
                      — Yes, Dorean was the perfect person. I couldn’t leave them anywhere, my father would have found them again. At least he wasn’t in good terms with his brother and sister-in-law, so they were safe in their care. And at least, they were more grounded than my father, the perfect keepers for the books… I’m wondering what happened to them…
                      — That will upset you, but Perry’s twins got them.
                      — Oh really?
                      — Yes, and they are having fun with them, as was intended.
                      — That’s fine then, and we are less obsessed now than we were before, so I guess my father isn’t as much as a pain in the butt as he was…
                      — You father meant good
                      — Yes, like everyone, but why can’t we leave people alone at times? People can sort out their issues without the commiseration, and the good intentions… It’s poison even worse… Like I can drink and still be healthy, and nice, and…

                      Sean started to sob.

                      — I know, darling, but you’re as much of a sore as your father was… You focus so much on what’s not going right, and you don’t even appreciate that you can talk with your departed wife… That was nothing as easy in the old days.
                      — Do you think my father talks with mum to?
                      — I think he would be too proud to admit he is sorry… That may hinder the communication… But Arty wouldn’t bear grudge now. When we let go of the physical, things become so clear, we can only be accepting of everything. Perhaps you prefer to wait for your father to cross over? I can tell you something, that won’t be easier. That much I know.
                      — You’re right. It’s just that I don’t know how to start…
                      — Be yourself, talk about what you enjoy, where is your passion now… Perhaps that is the problem. You’re drowning your passion in your scotch.
                      — You’re right… I’ll tell him Léan will have a baby.
                      — Oh, he’ll love it!
                      — How time flies… sighed Sean, I still remember the little sweetie as a blue-eyed laughing baby herself, with Oliver and Illana. She was the only one of the triplet to have inherited her mother’s dark complexion. She’s so beautiful…
                      — Let’s call your father darling
                      — Yes, let’s call him.

                      ***

                      Lord Wrick had not expected to received that call. Well, he had renounced it so long ago.
                      He had been a bit shaken, but also relieved. He had proposed, on an impulse, to invite that whole part of the family he barely knew, Sean’s new partner, and all their children for next Christmas in the castle. Sean had told him they would probably come with Becky but that the children were now having their own lives, and it would have to be for another time.

                      ***

                      Lord Wrick went to see Bill, who was now painting the portraits of Peregrine and Linda in the veranda.
                      He would probably have to stay longer, to paint a lot of new family portraits.

                      That probably would come perfectly, as ever, as the Lord could tell India Louise loved to spend time with the painter. Perhaps she would become an artist too… :sumari:

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