I'm almost to to the present of my or our story. Well here's a bit more before I can conclude the bringing up to the present. and it's one of my fondest ones of 17 and 18. They're so cute friends/siblings.
"...99 bottles of oil on the wall, 99 bottles of oil, one falls down, pass it around, now 98 bottles of oil on the wall! Come on 17 join me!" 18 sang hooking her right arm around 17's left one. 17 blinked his eyes/optics. "Um okay..."
"98 bottles of oil on the wall, 98 bottles of oil, one falls down, pass it around, now 97 bottles of oil on the wall! 97 bottles of oil on the wall, 97 bottles of oil, one falls down and pass it around, 96 bottles of oil on the wall..." both 17 and 18 sang while 15 just blinked at their behavior.
What the heck is going on here? 15 thought smiling worriedly. they had been heading towards the sanctuary when 18 had gotten an erge to start singing. and "118 Bottles of Oil On the Wall" had been her choice. when they were done and out of breath, 18 asked 17 to play a song.
When in the springtime of the yearWhen the trees are crowned with leavesWhen the ash and oak, and the birch and yewAre dressed in ribbons fair
"Hmm. This is pretty, 17." 18 said, 15 just hummed an agreement. "Hey I wonder what 'Springtime' is…" 15 said trailing off. 17 and 18 just shrugged their cloth shoulders.
When owls call the breathless moonIn the blue veil of the nightThe shadows of the trees appearAmidst the lantern light
"SHADOWPUNK IN THE TREES!" 17 yelled at 18 who jumped. And 15 cringed at the mention of Shadowpunks."
We've been rambling all the nightAnd some time of this dayNow returning back againWe bring a garland gay
"We have been rambling a bit." 15 muttered. They all didn't know of the prophic lyrics that came next.
Who will go down to those shady grovesAnd summon the shadows thereAnd tie a ribbon on those sheltering armsIn the springtime of the year
"Hey can we pull our voices up and be heard to?" 15 thought.
The songs of birds seem to fill the woodThat when the fiddler playsAll their voices can be heardLong past their woodland daysAnd so they linked their hands and dancedRound in circles and in rowsAnd so the journey of the night descendsWhen all the shades are gone
Acting on impulse 15 grabbed both 17's and 18's hands into hers and danced in a circle and then pulled them into a line and ran off laughing leaving two confused Stichpunks behind.
"A garland gay we bring you hereAnd at your door we standIt is a sprout well budded outThe work of our Lord's hand"
Then suddenly, they were at the sanctuary of a church.
Okay it's a bit hasty and I just want to say this is kinda pointless but oh well! Bye!
PS this will be the last there is till i get the DVD of 9. I'm fresh out of ideas. So, SOOORRRY!