00490315 (Caledonia)
“Who’s the cowboy in back now?” asked Chet to his on again off again girlfriend, this time toggled on.
“Oh, some guy Mom says owes her a favor. Working for free because of that. Or snapshots… something.”
“Interesting,” Chet says, envisioning the poses. Not abstract.
“Is it?” Alice Tart slumps even lower in her seat across from her still upright, toggled on lover. From this angle, she can barely see his eyes above his perpetual handkerchief, worn not for fear of disease or anything like that but just because of the look. The lead singer/guitarist of Scissorrun© is all about style, and of the Christmas kind in particular. He never wants the holiday to end. Else: he’ll have to think about other things. Like death. Because of his emphasis on style over substance, he’s never really learned to play the guitar properly and that’s understandably held his band back. Drummer Sherwood is pretty rock solid with his naturally hyperactive hands and all. And bassist Karl is at least good on “Paper”, their hit single and perhaps the only song of theirs that really matters in the end. Restaurant manager turned band manager Biff Carter is urging Chet to take lessons from a local musical genius named Spiff, no kin to Biff despite the similarity of names. Not a long lost brother or anything… I don’t think (?).
Chet leans toward Alice. “I’m sorry to hear about your father.” He’d heard it hurts more the second time around but of course didn’t say this aloud.
“Oh I was over all that the first time around,” she said, dismissing the sympathy. “Anyway, Mom has a new man now,” and she nods toward the kitchen.”
“Really?” says Chet. “That quick?”
“Yup. That quick. Pictures did him in, I’m guessing.”
Chet nods. He understands the power. 319.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0315, Dokken Hollow+, Jeogeot
00490314 (MEANWHILE…)
… in Bellisaria on one of the numerous continents — sub-continents some call them but nevermind that now — Father Fecked’s cane came alive and started to shake violently. When it finally settled down after about 7-10 minutes, it seemed to firmly point somewhere ahead now instead of being useful as a walking aid, with the suddenly non-lame Father having no other choice but to follow. Jesus and the rest of his manifested gang — Plastiman, Pigg, Bully — tagged along too (see tags). TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0314, Bellisaria, Continent 04, Continent 06
00490313
It had happened again and this time Frank Lynn *did* have Daisy’s number since they’d been on, what, 5 dates now? 6? Anyway, they were kind of living together at this juncture, on a higher level to his castle than the one still occupied a bunch of the time by “interlopers” (ha) Philip Strevor and Dr. Paul Mouse, the level behind the mouth and that giant sticky outie tongue that Philip likes to take his wees off of. “Look out below!” he would often shout needlessly when the stream appeared, because there was no one else around in this isolated skybox, not down below nor anywhere else outside the castle itself. Both of these men were hanger oners; both had issues. Dr. Mouse was still dead for one. Philip was sort of on the edge of same with his indulgence in speed and the pinball game High Speed and daring to combine the two at times. That was the crux of his problem. He was still trying to beat Mouse’s score at the game at any cost. And that cost might involve dying. Mouse would always have the advantage there.
Daisy was working down at the bar installing the new house non beer Michelob Zero to replace the Corona Non that had failed recent taste tests to her exasperation. Bad batch? she thought upon initially discovering the issue, her face wincing at the surprising lack of flavor and overemphasis on fizz. But then she purchased another batch and another batch — same issue. She’d had to abort the product, at least until the Mexican based company got their act together again. She was sure she’d found the ultimate house beer, at least before putting the finishing touches on her own special non brew. Then she planned to rule all of Our Second Lyfe with the delicious concoction, he he he. Ho ho. So she was busy with that and didn’t have time to go up and sit with Frank until Mouse’s epileptic seizure was over and told him, like unavailable Lexi before, just to wait the fit out and that it shouldn’t take more than 5 to 7 minutes, a seizure once again caused by Mouse’s indulgence in studying often strobing Youtube poop videos, especially what lies at their center. Like this from one of the latest tests. Pure red. Pure demon.
But Frank Lynn had a worse feeling this time around. 5-7 minutes of shaking, then 10, then… NONE. Just laying there, not recovering, not springing up from the floor seemingly as good as new like before. He checked Mouse’s pulse. “Uh oh,” he said. Heart pumps now: “*1* Mississippi, *2* Mississippi, **3** Mississippi,” he counted in desperation while pressing the chest in and out, in and out, in and out. “Come on come on come *on*. You can’t die *again*, Dr. Mouse. You just *can’t*.” But the pulse never moved from zero. He was floating down the mighty river toward the Gulf of America that had once been good old reliable Mexico. TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0313, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS, Soap
00490312 (sideways)
Q:
Are you Happy?
A:
Yes, I am Happy.
Q:
Pleased to meet you. Is everyone around you Happy?
A:
Let me check.
With this, he sees beyond himself for the first time. He sees… a gallery.
—–
“My Second Lyfe is over, Philip,” he spoke to the pillow at his bosom. “Banned. I should have never descended from reality to this *illusionary* place.”
“No, Philip,” says the pillow, because they both have the same name, one taking turns with the other as in any good ventriloquist act. “The energy of Rose Heaven here has entered the sphere of Rodentia and lives on accordingly. And Rodentius of course, the male at the center of the feminine circumference in this case. That’s why he has that bit of brown to add to the predominant white. That’s the rogue brown Thornwood sim here. I’ll take it from you.” SLIIIIIDE.
Philip, the bigger one still clutching the littler one, turns in his chair at the noise. “Oh,” he says staring over at the back corner of the Rose Heaven Yarn Shop he sits in the middle of on his own little island. “Another case, eh?”
“Yes.”
Happy stares too, knowing a certain book is involved, perhaps a journal. Philip turns back into Jeffrie. TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0312, Dokken Hollow+, Jeogeot, Rose Heaven-
00490311 (Steve)
I had circled back to the Newbank sim on the Newbrooke continent of the Bellisaria series of continents now dominating the “center” of the Our Second Lyfe worldscape, determined to make more of the experience. Plastic Man — I had that much. Friends Pig, Bully, Father and Son — they’re still around too. But Plastic Man quickly turns (again) into elastic armed Peter Oesso impossibly reaching through a window to an espresso machine 12 feet from him and procuring himself a drink. We’re at the gallery just north of Newbank now, with a corresponding increase in realism. As a newborn starts to recognize the world around him and the difference between father and son and mother and daughter, so we have the appearance of 2 brothers here, one 5 years older than the other but still the same age. And, as we’ve also seen, a third brother who is the same age but even 5 years older is involved, his Penn station being the center of virtual Paperville alternately Pageville where we can get Peter Oesso’s friend Bardie some pens and perhaps pencils to write his words down with. And, queerly, Second Life Freeze Dry is only 2 miles south in the Pennsylvania equivalent. Maybe we’ll visit an alternate version of that real life business soon too.
Back to the action…
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0049, 0311, Arkansas, Bellisaria, Continent 04, Pennsylvania
00490310 (the truth)
“It’s suppose to be a representation of the Red Room from Twin Peaks but, as you can see, it’s not quite finished yet. Gotta get that zig zag black and white texture for the floor… and so on.”
“Really nice, Wheeler,” I say, wondering again why she hadn’t shown me this before. “And the painting — I assume it is a duplicate of the one over in Salty’s, in the old storage area behind the cooking section.”
“Or the same,” Wheeler answers. “Maybe this painting is in the past and the one over at Salty’s is more in the future. Or visa versa. Depends on if Arthur is still tied up over there. And I think he might, making this the, um, future?” She looks over at me. “But you’re not Arthur. And we haven’t made a deal yet. Better get over there, then.”
“Okay,” I said to end things here. Because I was never really here without her. I wanted to talk about the old core of avatars and her role in it. Baker Bloch — me, in essence — came before Wheeler. Baker Blinker came before her. Baker Blinker is more me than her. And then Hucka Doobie came along to make an original three. Hucka Doobie is of course the spiritual guide for the blog and attached photo-novels as a whole, although she hasn’t been in the recent ones as much. That might change. Then there’s Karoz, kind of my blue-green alien brother, if I am the same as Baker Bloch which I mostly am (Whitehead in Da Woods). Then and only then came Wheeler, and, at first, she wasn’t who she is today. All that changed with the photo-novels, 2 if not 1. She came… in 2. All the rest were there long before even 1. She was the last who became the first. Arkansaw.
But we never got around to that discussion.
I watched her disappear up the stairs and then I did too.
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0049, 0310, Arkansas, Dokken Hollow+, Jeogeot, RDR2
00490308 (319)
I’m not sure when the original motel was expanded from 3 to 5 rooms but it fits. And a lobby with a secret room behind the registration desk where you can peer into at least the 5th which has replaced the 3rd as a new end of the thing. This is where we find Peter Oesso and his fellow au naturale bud John waiting for the return of the Boss. Buick + Red Point tells me this might be Bixby, or someone who can turn into a green hulk figure if provoked in a certain way. Call her fat, for example. Or even curvy.
David A.B. and Linda Halsey aren’t sitting in front like they were before. Nor is Yoko Ona around, walking the streets in her multiple self style. David A.B. can’t absentmindedly step off the front patio of the Missouri motel into the road and be sideswiped by a station wagon with Illinois plates like in photo-novel 20. The beanstalk remains an out-of-bounds concept.
You better figure out how to get out of Missouri — Miss Ouri — or you’ll remain trapped here forever, I can hear her say in my mind. Key, I knew. Where is that gall darn blasted key?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0308, Althyria, HANA LEI, Heartsdale+, Missouri
00490307
“There! There’s where we have to head next, me and the boys.”
“OK, Dr., I’m going to have to stop you there, draw a line. That’s a private residence. Nothing to do with the Missouri Mystery Motel or any other anomaly tied to that Show-Me state.”
“You are denying the power of the CENTER?”
“In this case, yeah.”
“So you’re admitting it *is* a case.”
“Um, no. Not what I meant.”
“You already said it. Can’t take back.”
“Just… leave those poor people alone. They’ve had enough trouble with the rabid fans of ADC never mind your small band of kookies. Who’s left among them? The Ogle brothers?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. But they’re loyal. And they’re cheap. Work for free, actually. I can’t do *everything*.”
“You pay them with snapshots.”
“Like I said: free.” TBC?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, Jeogeot, Missouri, 0307, ADC, Google Street View, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS, 0049
Sunklands 