Monthly Archives: December 2019
no wee 02
“He said that this land was my land but it was also *his* land, Fran. Wonder what that means?”
Young, naive Fran couldn’t stop tittering at the, to her, funny sight. “He’s got (*snicker*), no face — no *skin*.”
“Hellooo!” it spoke again cartoonishly. “I’m a [delete phrase].”
“Whoa, whoa,” Jer Left Horn called to him from the chair while holding out his hands in protest. “No need for that kind of language ’round here, Norris. You *did* say that was your name. Didn’t you — Norris?”
“Mo Flo Joe No.”
Fran kept tittering. “I think he means — *no* (giggle).”
“Wellll… *what*, then?”
A very faint “Jerry” then popped out of his hot pink mouth. Then: “Harry,” almost as faint. Then, rapidly in succession, just a little louder even, “Harry, Jerry.” Then louder, more assertive: “Jerry. Harry.” Then loudest of all by far. “JERRRRY. HARRRRRY!”
“Okay,” calms Jer Left Horn, hands out again. JERRRRY and especially HARRRRRY were still echoing around the hills surrounding them. “You’re Jerry. You’re Harry.”
“He’s Jerry,” states Fran mundanely, patting his red hair and staring at his face. “He’s Harrry.” She tweaks his cheeks here. Jer Left Horn thinks he winces a little with this, the first facial expression beyond “blank” he’s seen.
“Hey,” he requests to Fran. “I think you hurt him there a bit. That (he comes over to look better) skin might be sensitive.” He points. “Yeah, see there? You’ve left red marks.”
Fran covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh. Oh dear. They’re *bleeding* or something. I’m *so* sorry.” She runs inside to get some tissues from her purse, water dripping from her face.
His face changes…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0307, End of Time^^
no wee
“I think we’ve got everything we need, Merry. Rope, tent, flashlights. It’s all there. The general store here set us up real good with all these freebies.” He finally looks over; pays attention. “Oh my, you’ve changed again.”
“Yeah, the skin is gone. Been gone for about 30 minutes,” *Breeze* replies. “You’ve been calling me the wrong name for a while.”
Axis goes over to her, holds her. “I’m sorry.” They lock hands. “I promise to pay more attention.”
“It’s okay.” She leans in for a kiss.
—–
“I see it in the enlarged fire, Rules of Rose. Merry Gouldbusk is succumbing (!). We must do something to alter the mix.”
“Do something,” Rules of Rose echoed, also staring. “But — what?”
Ruby Fantasie looked to her right. “Norris. Norris could help. Put him back in that tree.”
“If you in-*sist*,” spoke the elven fairy, readying her powers of teleportation once more. This was her plan all along, though.
“He already knows his lines. Just send him. Break a limb!” she called over for encouragement as he vanished from the scene.
—–
“Hell-oo! Hellllooo!”
Jer Left Horn spots the source of the call up in his beloved tree. He stands. “Who are you?’
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0306, End of Time^^
still exploring
“’69,” Jer Left Horn pronounced, reading the year address above the door to the hitherto unvisited castle.
“And then the suggestion to set your draw distance to 96.
“Sounds like my kind of place.” He sets his draw distance to 96 meters and opens the door….
It was his kind of place.
He finds his way to the bar upstairs. He starts trying to dig up more information about the caves, about End of Time itself. Big Ass Franz the bartender was compliant enough. Jer Left Horn has found that about everyone directly associated with the estate is pretty friendly and open. Good qualities to work with in an investigation. Or pleasantries attached to such a task. Cloe Price is the prime exception so far. Fran — tough exterior but eventually caved. He left her back in his cabin to make this night trek. He’d spotted the castle door at the canal the day before and earmarked it for a visit.
“Cats?” returned Franz, knowing Jer Left Horn was getting into deeper territory; unknown passages.
“Yeah, I’ve heard…”
“That they’re part human? Some of them anyway.”
“Yeeaahh,” Jer Left Horn said back, getting more information off the top than he expected. “That tooo.”
Franz looked around the establishment, at the pictures. “You can’t have them. That’s forbidden fruit.”
“Say’s who?” Jer Left Horn hated for people to tell him what he could and couldn’t do. Being royalty all your life will turn you into that.
“Say’s *them*.”
Jer Left Horn turns slightly on his barrel seat, hiding his horn a bit more from Franz. He strokes his chin wisely. He looks at the pictures too. He’s now more determined than ever to meet one of these cat-people. “Do you *know* any of ’em?” he decides to ask.
Franz wipes down the bar, as if distracted. “Just one,” he managed.
“Welll? What’s her name?” Jer Left Horn didn’t have to ask the sex. He could tell from the bartender’s actions that he loved this creature a bit.
“Rebl,” came the answer. After saying her name, Big Ass Franz excused himself and went in back to have a little sob.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0305, End of Time^^
bigger fish
Fran was tittering at something Cloe had just showed her on her phone. A cow blowing the hat off a farmer. Jer Left Horn didn’t get it, but he wasn’t going to admit that. Instead he decided to kill two birds with one stone, as it were. “You girls like cats? Because I loooove cats. Got two back at the cottage. Wanna see? One for each, one for each,” he attempted to tempt again, doubling down on the effort.
“Can’t talk. Phone,” responded Cloe curtly. We’ve been here before.
—–
Running out of options, Jer stood up, determined to play his final card. “You know, girls — clothing is optional here. Why don’t I, let’s see, shed *these* clothes and go over there and look out at the bay, hmmm? Maybe you girls — *ladies* will join me then.
“Doubtful,” returned Cloe crisply. “Doubtful,” echoed her friend Fran but with less conviction. She wanted to see!
—–
“Just *look* Cloe,” Fran whispered excitedly across the table.
“Not interested,” reinforced Cloe, looking for another funny video to share with her friend. Her dear dear friend.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0304, End of Time^^
live oak 02
He thought he’d do some ice fishing while he was here, a favorite pastime from way back when he was a kid. He’s looking for his wayward brother Benny Right Horn, true, but nothing in the royal decree said he couldn’t turn the assignment into a kind of vacation as well, get a little feel for the local culture and habits. Plus he just loved that giant live oak over there on the peninsula. He’d been coming every day here since he arrived 3 days back. Finally he caved: ice fishing it is. If his mother (the Heart Queen) found out so be it. Benny was probably long gone from here anyway, his brother Jer Left Horn rationalized. Into the caves and out into another dimension.
Jer was not yet prepared to enter the End of Time cave system himself. He was still gathering intel from the locals. People disappeared. *Groups* disappeared. Children — old people. The cave didn’t discriminate due to age. Some pin responsibility on the cats also known to inhabit the caves; say they use a different set of tunnels to surprise and capture visitors. He needed to find one of those cats, attempt to communicate with them if possible. His great great grandmother was part cat on her father’s side. Maybe he could use that bit of shared heritage as leverage. Start up some kind of conversation. Ideally the contactee would be at least somewhat invested in genealogy, then. But he’d also heard of cats with human qualities, hmm. That could lead to — no, he promised his mother he’d set aside his promiscuous ways in this quest. Always the distraction for you, she called him out.
He couldn’t help himself, though. He had an eye on a girl who always sat at the same table beside the canal in the village. Today was the day to make a move, he thought while trying to spot any fish swimming below the ice. Maybe this pond was devoid of them? He’d been here 2 hours. No bites yet. Time to move on to bigger fish. In the village….
“Goodbye live oak. See you tomorrow.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0303, End of Time^^
Bellisaria 02
It was already night. She needed to bed down for a while. She decided to approach one of the innumerable Victorian houses near the railroad to get information if possible, perhaps beg for a place to rest. Just a while, she rehearsed. Just to get my bearings. She was choosing realities just on instinct. Good.
Then Tessa spotted what she thought was a lake behind the house and went there instead, noting the bridges on opposite sides of it, about equidistant from each other from this vantage point. She sat down to meditate on the subject. She later learned her lake was actually an estuary, lying between mainland here and a queer, curly island over there. Eventually the name of the island, for her, became Curly-Cue, usually shortened when writing to Curly-Q. She also understood the Q stood for Queer, because it was.
3 other islands existed in a small archipelago with queer Curly-Q: one almost as large but much more regularly shaped; another, also curly shaped but simpler — not as bendy-twisty — and about as large relative to the second as the second is to the first; then the smallest, about 1/4the the size of the 3rd largest and containing no houses atall unlike the others. That was the one that she eventually chose as “home” in this strange land beyond the cave system she had stumbled and bumbled upon by accident, just by sticking to the tracks and thinking she could never get in trouble that way. She wasn’t as lucky as fellow cave dweller Guyd, then. Because Guyd avoided the tracks.
There was no need to look further.
“Home”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0302, Bellisaria, Grote
Bellisaria
She walked and walked, further than ever until the one track became two, as it always was. And always will be. She sat down in the middle of the split to remember who she was/is/will be.
I am Tessa from in or near Twin Peaks, she told herself. Old and yet young here. Between the red and yellow in front of me…
… and the blue and green behind.
Split. Like realities.
She will not move until someone comes and helps her choose.
But then a scary bug appears beside her and makes her choose anyway. “Shite!” she exclaims while jumping off the bench onto the wrong track.
The year: ’42. She heard distant bugles. A faint smell of burnt copper was in the air. She knows which reality she’s in. And it’s not the right one. The Realm of Fear.
End of Time was a *sanctuary* she realized. Once she stepped back in the light, all was exposed for what it is.
But she must forget all this and get back to the cave. It was only an experiment, see, a dream even. Trouble is, she was heading the wrong way.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0301, Bellisaria, Grote
different tracks
“Ahh. *There* she is, Rules of Rose. Hitting the tracks again.” She tries to call over once more, a little softer than before, knowing the futility of it. “Tessa. Tessa, honey. It’s me. Your Aunt Ruby.”
“She still can’t see or hear you,” states elven fairy Rules of Rose beside her. “It’s — different over here.”
Ruby Fantasie folds her hands over her lap, leaning back. “I know.” She sighs.
“It’s because of me.” Rules of Rose puts her hands to her eyes, beginning to cry (again). “I’m so sorry *sob*”.
Tessa makes her way back into the heart of the cave system, seeing/hearing nothing.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0217, End of Time^^
boats
She just had to get out of that cave system for a while. She’d just learned about the death of Mssr. Gold (again). Her grandfather! Tessa ruminated about the good times driving around that old, clunky narrowboat. Taking it here, there, *everywhere*. Anywhere her grandfather could dream about. And now he’s gone (again).
Oh well, she thinks while getting up out of the old boat and walking toward the cave mouth. He’ll probably be back tomorrow or something.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0216, End of Time^^
Sunklands 