She had been living on the Aloha houseboat for over 3 1/2 years now. She’d had plenty of time to contemplate her life as Witch Hazel in the past, and, moving forward, well… something good instead of bad she’ll be the next time at bat. Fruity bat.
Right now, she occupies a position between good and evil — red and blue. Purgatory, in effect. But she’s grown use to her schizoid nature. Soon enough it will end for Parasol and she’ll become someone else.
Sam Bee is a key; Trojan-Durexian War, etc. Sting operation. She knows that from Ruby Fantasie’s Middletown US of A investigations, which are ongoing.
In the other room of the boat, Charlie Banana wakes up and needs a drink. Yes, “between” she is indeed currently. But all split things must end.
“Damn this fairy dust just isn’t washing off today, Axis.”
But Absinthe’s partner’s attention was drawn elsewhere. “Says here that this wrecked ship in the water before us was called Nevermore. After the Poe poem I assume. Funny that. Poe… poem. Like he was born to write ‘The Raven’.”
“I always forget,” says the showering girl, “whether the bird beats the bug or the bug beats the bird. ‘(The) Gold Bug’. Short story.”
“I remember.” Axis continues reading the sign aloud. “‘Lost to the sea — in 7-4-53 — by the grace of Our Dear Lord — whose boats are all adored.’ Another poem, Ruby.”
“Absinthe,” she corrected, still washing and showering and cleaning with all her might.
“No mention of the Trojan-Durexian War, though.”
“Oh it’s to blame all right.” opined Ruby, finally back in form. “Too close to the edge, see,” she explained while drying.
Hidi was having that dream again about being in the middle of Nascera’s Forever Bridge that ended Collagesity novel 8, one side leading to the past…
… the other, the future.
“This must be 9.”
Dawn comes at Horenso and Hakusai.
An unexpected crowd at Karoyaka, the sim below that. Right on the line again (with MogenAi), but no time for line dancing today.
Are trees dancers? she thinks at MongenAi and Shinryoku.
Shinryoku and, just in front of her, Shinkai. This is what she came for. A place of peace and quiet where she can truly rest.
And here’s where she met Magus Ellen at the end of the world. Younger partner Sidechick Corea was scavaging the colorful woods for seeds and berries.
There were no words exchanged, no looks. Hidi approached the meditating man…
… and became one with him, seeing through his eyes.
A boat forms on the edge, a transport. A sim skipper.
She thought the new thing on the tracks looked like a ballerina but knew it wasn’t. This one was without heart.
“Oh hey guys. Already time for another fairy watch?”
“Don’t touch it, don’t touch it,” they implored.
“Oh I know.”
They didn’t know what to do with him after he just appeared out of nowhere in the heart of Collagesity. Right in the ballerina. He seemed to like popcorn, but kept feeding the little heads attached to his body instead of his own head. He claimed to be from a place called The Great Fracture. On one side: him (he explained). On the other: Nevermind or Nevermore, names which he exchanged freely. Then to the right a person called Hidi or Heidi or Hayden (something) — again when we asked to clarify the spelling it never came. The “direction left” he couldn’t talk about yet. That would remain a “stalwart mystery” as he put it in his tinny, warbling voice.
“I can’t get these dal garn chips open, Bauer. I’m just going to have to bites through the bag.”
“The two hearts still burn as one from this position, Sidechick.”
“Yet something has changed.
Speaking of which… you haven’t.”
“I’m working on something,” Sidechick Corea defended himself. “Would you like to see? Preliminary, you must understand. I might combine it with something else.”
“Sure, my friend, my understudy.”
“Snow,” Sidechick explained. “Even appropriate for the season.”
“Well,” said Magus Ellen, looking him over. “Then how about this for *me*.”
“Perfect,” exudes Sidechick. “Rosehaven was called Winterfell before 2017. They changed the name because of the growing popularity of the ‘Game of Thrones’ TV series and its own Winterfell. This was *not* a ‘Game of Thrones’ roleplay region, decreed the Princess ruler who effected the change. So we are stragglers, misunderstanders. We are merely in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Back to the pub, then!” emits Magus Ellen. “But not tonight.”
“I had to get rid of the doll house, Mssr. Gold. We were getting too close to the truth.”
“That’s all right Mr. Platinum. I know where to find another one.”
Across the room…
“Our view has changed. Our *castle* has changed, Norris.”
“I don’t like it. I don’t like it one *bite*.”
In the other room (the *only* other room now that Murdock’s castle has shrunk)…
… Petunia begins manipulating documents so that the correct reality might return.
“Steppiing out off that ridiiculouss tableauu noww my pointt iis maade…”
“I amm *heere* Rosehaveen. You cannot gett rid off me noww.”
“Sea Monsterrs! Twoo evenn.”
“Butt it iis snoow noww. I do nott liike snoow. I will return iin Maarch, yess.”
“Hoomer. Hoooomer. It is I. Carrcassonne. Come to take you back. You come back, I come back.”
“Sure you don’t want next game, Grandpa?”
“No, Tessa, thank you.” Because he was looking for someone.