Daily Archives: December 5, 2017

All Mary’s

“I’m real, you know. I’m not just a doll.”

“You’re not my Mary,” a slightly drunk Pitch Darkly grumbles. He looks up. “What did I get you for our one month anniversary together?”

“Sapphire,” she quickly responded. “Pen.” She points toward her scarf. “The one I’m wearing.”

“Impressive,” Pitch says with a head tilt and a smirk. “So do all you clones know everything about each other? You Clem clones?”

“We’re not clones. We’re all the same. There’s a difference. Let me show you something. I want to introduce you to my friends here. Do you have time?”

“Sure,” replies Pitch. What’s time here? he thinks to himself.

—–

“Pitch Darkly,” says the seated Mary in a nearby building. “These are my mates Patti (“Hi!”), Ben (“Hellooo!”), Paul (“Likewise!”) and Tammi (“Nice to meet you!”). Why don’t you have a seat, Pitch. Have a drink as well. There’s a bar right over there.”

“No thanks, I’ll stand.” Pitch was trying to determine what this was. A party of mannequins? But Mary still talks to me. And all the others responded as well.

—–

Suddenly he was across the room, standing before Mary still but with a new friend this time. “We’ll get back to the party soon enough, Pitch. I wanted you to meet Steven first. I met him shortly after Hana Lei was destroyed by snow and ice… couldn’t handle the weight. Steven is a brick layer. Best in the four sim region.”

Steven stands up, shakes Pitch’s hand vigorously with a vise grip. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard so many things about you.” He glances over at Mary and returns to his seat.

—–

Then he was at the bar in another part of the same floor. Mary was bartending again. Another Bucket of Blood manifests in front of him out of thin air. The sun was setting on Clemscott. The automatic lights were warming up.

“So you see, we’re not clones. We’re all the same. Every last one of us. All Mary’s. Like Nancy before us. Like *everyone*, really. Like you, Pitch Darkly. Who are you deep inside that white, bloodied exterior? You know.”

But Pitch’s mind was not set on philosophy tonight. Something more basal and immediate troubled him. “So you have a new boyfriend now,” he blurts with aching heart.

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Filed under *Second Life, ., Clemscott, Gaeta V

Clemscott

Pitch Darkly teleports into the centre of Clemscott. As he knew from previous visits, the owner of the sim had marked the spot with a grassy, oval lozenge. This Clem fellow. Clem Scott maybe. Smart like a Fox.

Merlin’s Mound dead ahead, as Pitch has dubbed it. Grassy green like the central object he stands upon. Extension?

What, if anything, is buried within?

This is a grassy avenue just beyond that interests Pitch greatly for reasons I won’t go into just yet.

The avenue extends along the north side of… well I’m just going to let the pictures basically tell the story.

According to these signs adorning the surrounding square shaped wall in all 4 of its corners, the fenced-in region of approx. 1024 meters (32 x 32 meters) holds what are apparently experimental building projects, with apologies given for the involved dust. You can actually buy the wall and attached signs for 50 lindens. Pitch is tempted…


Walled region.


Viewing platform?


Banana and apple.

Once again, Pitch realizes he’s not going to be able to figure it out tonight. He must move on. But not before noting this 32 meters long “measuring rod” extending well below the surface here. 32 meters is also the length of each side of the walled compound.


Walled region and “Merlin’s Mound”.

Pitch decides to quench his parched throat at a neighboring bar before continuing. “Bucket of blood,” he requests to the familiar bartender. “No nails.”

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Filed under *Second Life, ., Clemscott, Gaeta V