BEAUFORT NUMBER TEN takes it to the Terminal

Bonjour, James Alston:

You, sir, have caused me some grief. Fortunately for both us, however, I have danced the Dance of Contemplation, consulted the Great (albeit often gruesome) Monkey and he signals me to be brave. And a little merciful.

Wordy, I know. Here it is, then. Your cap intrigues me. You know the reasons, don't you, (almost, said the clinging Spider) mighty crafter of Beaufort Number Ten. Even with two shots against you...well three if I am extra nasty and count 'killling', but I will not. Today, I checked the rising sun and she murmured to me, 'Be not petty'. That you are slightly short of our usual word count? Hmmm, fifteen lashes or at least a platter of truffles for your cheek.

The thing of which I'll not speak for the moment (for the Terminali will no doubt strike at you soon enough for it, maybe) I've decided to allow a pass. Let the decision deem me weak or rebellious, what does it matter? Neither affects me within these drip-stained walls.

I like the cap. Its essence lingers with me. I want it to rise. Therefore, Beaufort Number Ten rises, skilled VC. Know that I do you only a half turn, though. I take no blame for the stones or roses the Terminali may chuck at you when your moment arrives.

Merci for your submission. Let's see what happens.

Bonne chance,

G. DePlancher / The Floor / TQR

Sent while levitating from my own Bright Cloud.