July 12, 2026 · 6:17 am

00500606

Just as an experiment, I set up a duplicate Frank’s Moving Castle on cheap rental land at New Island.

We’ve already had an interesting visitor.

And I love this blue-green pool stretching out for about 150 meters behind it from the direction of the road it’s on. I’m tempted to call the palm rimmed body of water Little Alamo.

1st things 1st. Carefully *carefully* explore the sim it’s in and then work out from there. Another interesting property for sure here is one called Afterlife, featuring a namesake club 2000 meters in the sky alongside a game arcade and a bar (notice “Night City” on its front).

Andie — the visitor I mentioned before — decided to accompany me on my explorations tonight. Said she has no choice, *I* had no choice. She also called herself “the chaperone” at one point in our conversations. After learning more details about my situation, she suggested that I retain my properties in Nawt Vaya but the castle can roam. Like it was built for, I realized, built into its name; Frank’s *Moving* Castle, after all. This could be the first relocation of several. TBC

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July 12, 2026 · 6:17 am

00500605 (Leptune)

“Okay, turn around! And tell me why you’re here. Under that red arrow pointing downward. Straight down to this room, to *you*!”

“Don’t shoot me!” he pleaded pathetically. “Don’t shoot me and I’ll tell you everything. Why I’m here. Why *you’re* here.”

“I wasn’t going to shoot you, dawg,” says Frank Lynn back to the green clad man. A clown? he guessed from his position.

“Oh. You must not be *him*, then.”

“Him *who*?”

—–

“I would have *definitely* shot this clown in the back, not even telling him to turn around,” declares Philip Strevor in a parallel universe. “My loss,” he says in retrospect, from his position in the Realm of Death. All Knowing now; a little too late.

Because this Leptune colored like an ear of corn and then some truly had answers. He could get Frank Lynn unstuck, unglued. And Philip too. If he had the sense to do so.

Back to the current universe…

—–

“You just follow the shadow of the arrow now to find another (red) arrow, pointing upward,” he said behind him, just out of camera shot. “Then you’ll see where to go.”

“Thanks dawg!” TBC

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July 11, 2026 · 7:27 am

00500604

He’d shot all over the world, flying hither and thither. He’d seen it all, final resting place acquired. Including the ultra-illusive Bigfoot, the Holy Grail of bagging and tagging. Why go on? he said to himself. And so he didn’t. The concrete (marker) indicated death, the *other* great adventure, the 2nd 1/2 truth to go along with a first. Pisces not Virgo. Prices not Vigo (Alabama).

But then LL announced the filling in of the se corner of Omega and the game was suddenly on again after all these years of rest and hibernation. The TAR (car) was rebuilt, adding the prefix RE to an original name. In the Tar Swamp where it came from; that’s why we’re here. On Lake Nip. In Massachusetts. I’ll let you research the rest.

Local rumors of a UFO landing in the swamp, such as reported by fishermen like Horace here, were just that. Snakeworthy Price had paid the Price and acquired a (new?) last name in the process. There was more than one. Stamp him SOLD as in OUT.

Peering through the bushes where it landed, Horace finds the whole truth and nothing but the truth. REbirth. And with a fresh paint of green.

“I *hate* Snakeworthy Price,” says onlooking Rudy from beyond the wall. TBC?

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July 10, 2026 · 1:42 pm

00500603 (Kessler (wrong way))

She peered at me over two empty wine glasses. As if she had something to hide. She indicated “full perm” and loads of prims/li, which meant we could live here for a while if we wished. Nothing upstairs, she also said, indicating something else. Yeah, we could crash here for a while. But did I want this? Of course I want this (!). I want to live period, breath again, walk on Second Lyfe God’s green, beige or whatever earth terrain. But she said if we did this there would be a price to pay. Snakeworthy Price, I guessed, as in owner of The Shooter. And what was being shot? Bigfoot.

We moved to a nearby structure. “We could live here for a while,” she said while reading the clear as a bell text from her latest book. Suddenly I wasn’t so sure. TBC?

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July 9, 2026 · 12:42 pm

00500602

“Shelley over there in the chair looks like she’s in trouble, hubby of mine. I remember when I was like that, and Shelley was in the belly. Belly Shelley I use to call her after the naming, patting the big round 12 lb. mound on my stomach. With a bit more to come even before The End. Which of course was also The Beginning. Do you remember? Were you even there?”

From beyond the screen, I log Baker/Newt in and manage to fit him into the picture and sit across from her. I take a snapshot of the 3, mother, father, daughter. “I’m *trying*,” I kind of defend myself through him.

“Try harder. For me. For poor bloated little Shelley over there. Who’s in the stomach this time? Is it Liz? It’s suppose to be Liz; where are we on that? Where *is* (father) Arthur?”

“Ocean–” But Wheeler cut me off here. No need to go the the ends of the world for an answer. Simply ocean will do. Any ocean. All Oceans. TBC

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July 8, 2026 · 7:09 am

00500601 (boo… scary)

You have done good, wife of mine (!). Now you are ready to begin 11. Just at your feet there. Go on…

… go on… It won’t hurt you.

“Won’t it?”

“No.” With The Straight recently disconnected from Utah through the filling in of the se corner of Our Second Lyfe’s Omega continent, I knew she had (probably) found her safety zone and was ready — okay — to proceed. I raise the terrain from my side to meet her, to show her I’m totally serial about this situation now.

I reset the whole thing by entering the door directly beneath the big Martian boo high — but not too high — in the New Island sky. Nawt Vaya Free State’s Boos here we come!

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July 4, 2026 · 12:52 pm

00500516

He stood before the passageway again, knowing a decision had to be made. As before, they had extra arms, as in fire. Faux bug exterminators Jason and Walter were awaiting orders. In or out in or out? Didn’t matter to them; all this was beyond their meager, silly brains, Lester thought. They couldn’t tell the fool’s gold, the physical stuff, from the real gold — this opening inside the Sphere he’s managed to finally crash beside. As bad as Philip with his 60th of 60 in the 6th or 90th of 90 in the 9th. Last in class whatever. 6 is just as bad as 9, merely a flip or reverse of the same. Then it hit Lester. The same, the *same*. The future and past are one! He didn’t have to make a decision. He could merely stand in place and let the so-called Hand of God do it for him. He opened himself up… to the Universe.

“Holland??”

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July 4, 2026 · 12:52 pm

00500515 (lightning bolt)

“After delivering part 50 of 50 of the spaceship to him, he gave me this. Space Docker he called it. From the *future*. And then his last words to me were, ‘See you on the other side, brother.’

“Other side of *what*? I wondered as I watched him round the corner and seemingly disappear forever from my life.

“Then Lester brought up finding the other side — to Earth.”

“Earth?”

“Earth,” he said again. “He said, what was it, the technology allowed copying but only so far. For one thing, there were no people, just animals. Philip had crashed his plane and died. Yet he lived on.” Frank looked at me steady. I knew this was something extremely important to him because he usually avoids direct eye contact. He was trying to drill the truth into me. Or maybe discover it *through* me.

Drilling. Have to think about that one.

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July 4, 2026 · 3:30 am

00500514

“Let’s go back in time, to Bogota 01 before the Bogota 02 and 03 we’ve been talking about. To examine… time travel. The vandal again, perhaps the same one we encounter in a hazmat suit later on in Boos… appears to be spray painting a red lighting bolt atop David Bowie’s dead skull, right?

“Well, maybe the red bolt was already there, maybe the vandal is merely indicating this with his pointing. More pointing. The Point of It All (again)?”

“Are you talking to me, ma’am?” Inspector Petty says, appearing through the wall of his small agency in the heart of NVFS’s Cement Village. No Chef attached to his title any longer, so he’s unable to prepare food for himself. “Buy me some lunch and I’ll tell you about it.” Turns out he had all the story and then some. You feed him and then he can feed you. Information. Deeep stuff. TBC

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July 4, 2026 · 3:30 am

00500513 (Topper)

Before hopping into the shower, Shelley/Wheeler decides to assume that pose again she saw Bigfoot take in Concrete WA and stare at the results in the mirror before her. *Am* I Bigfoot? she couldn’t help think with her library eyes in place, no need for aiding glasses any more, a block to deeper knowledge. All Knowledge. Especially given that she could animated herself this way in the first place. Library… might as well call it “built in”. Thanks to a witch. TBC

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