Monthly Archives: May 2020

Heartsdale 04

She stands at a crossroads outside the motel. David A.B. and Linda Halsey are still talking in the lighted patio outside the lobby. They would be doing this as long as the motel itself existed, she realized. She stares toward the mysteriously highlighted red-blue-green gate to the east (sky-sea-land). She’s *been* here before, she realizes while studying it and almost being hit by a right turning, beat up station wagon with Illinois license plates in the process. BDR529. Not quite all the numbers but getting there.

“Where there are churches there must be liquor stores,” she remarks confidently while walking between two. She goes in a direction no Yoko has ever gone before, messing with the patterns.

—–

“So this is what you do all the time, Baker B.?” asked observing Marty at Collagesity’s Blue Feather Table Room.

“Pretty much,” admitted the male baker version to the famous composer/musician variant.

“W-where is she going? She’s just heading off in a random direction.”

“Not random,” spoke Baker Bloch. “Hopefully.”

“What is this place?” Marty further queried.

“Heartsdale. It’s in title.” Baker looked over, confident in his randomness. “She’s been here before,” he added. “Or *I* have.”

“And this has — something to do with John.”

“Absolutely,” I crowed. “Bakersworks,” I said to end.

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Heartsdale 03

She woke up in the middle of the night with a realization. The maid was still trying to move the dead body out of the room to no avail. Perhaps she was attempting to be too quiet about it. I know who the motel receptionist is, Yoko Ona thought while staring up at the ceiling long crack in the ceiling: Cindy A.! This is where I met her and also started interacting with the others of the traitorous A.Team. Todd I believe. And Jim! Who could forget Jim and his maths. Figures began forming in her mind with this. All the numbers again (1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0). She decided she needed a middle of the night martini for further pondering. And so as not to disturb the maid and her duties, she tip toed out of the room, silently shutting the door behind her in search of a bar.

To move beyond 02 and especially 03, she knew she’d have to get by the security guard known locally as Big Black Smoke — learned that from the maid. She, in a whisper of a voice, had warned her about the corruption existing at the motel after dusting the bathroom for the 3rd time. 3 again. A.Team with three members. She’s getting closer! She runs smack into Big Black Smoke while spacing out about 3. “Morning misses,” he spoke, not fazed in the least. “Out for your morning walks again?” Plural, she realized. He thinks *I* am 3. And he’d been moved in front of motel door 03 with the collision for further emphasis. Heartsdale was certainly trying to talk to the famous widow of a woman! She walks further into the town proper and its beating Null Heart after affirming Big Black Smoke’s guess.

(to be continued)

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Heartsdale 02

She decides to check into the motel she sits in front of with David and Linda. Why not? Too many mysteries to explore here in one sitting! Multiple me’s, she ponders while waiting for the desk clerk to respond to her presence. She never does, so Yoko Ona pipes up. “Excuse me miss… do you have any rooms available?”

“Rooms? What rooms?” Sarah McDooglehan then shakes her head and looks around the lobby, as if snapping out of a trance (true). “Oh… *these* rooms. Well,” — she puts her finger to her temple instead of checking any list she has, which seems odd. “Two is available. I’ll register it in triplicate. 222, then.”

“I’m *not* paying for three.” But then Yoko Ona reconsiders. *Is* she?

“One it is,” Sarah returned. “Not two, not three. Here’s the key.” She removed it from her pocket and not the wall with the others. Another oddity.

—–

She has to wait for the maid to finish dusting and removing that dead body before she can bring in the rest of her stuff.

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Heartsdale 01

“She finds a heart that is a yoyo in a hotel plaza, Hucka Doobie. Yoko is close to yoyo.”

“Listennn.”

—–

“I’m going to walk right over to that phone and make a call. I can’t find that girl of mine *anywhere* in this confounded town. Alleys go this way, pathways go that way. It’s like a maze!”

Amazing, thought Yoko Ona from the other side. This must be one of John’s friends!

“Oh. You using the booth?” he asked after spotting her.

No, I’ll fix that. She rewinds time.

Zach Black walks up to the phone with Yoko Ona on the other side. He doesn’t spot her, as if she’s invisible. He picks up the receiver. He can’t remember the exact number so he presses in all of ’em, in a row. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 and 0 to end. That should do it, he thinks. It rings on the other side.

“Hello?” Feminine voice, good. No new jack-ass boyfriend to deal with, perhaps.

“Audrey?” he speaks into the receiver with his cool cat voice.

“Yes?” Cool cat back at him.

—–

In another part of town, David A.B. was talking to Linda Halsey about that failed transformation attempt over in Urqhart where she hails from. “Sorry about that,” he says to her in a conciliatory way. “We will try harder next time.”

What about *my* transformation, unobserved Yoko Ona thinks in a neighboring chair.

And then she spots *another* of herself walking against a rock textured wall across the street. How many are there??

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Corsican Collagesity 07

She was walking in circles around the neighborhood. Each time I got close she disappeared around the next corner. But it appeared to be…  me!

I decided to stop chasing and just wait on her. I’d figured out the pattern. I noticed other people were walking around too. But they didn’t catch my eye. Olive-green jacket, grey-black backpack, faded demin jeans.

She ran into me (me again!), and even pushed me back a bit. This was no apparition. Solid! She was taller than me. And — dare I say it — less, um, frumpy. Prettier to put it differently.

I knew she *had* to be indicating something of importance. “Look here!” she said in her repetitive striding. But the block of structures she perpetually strolled around didn’t have much substance to it. I couldn’t even find a place to sit (using remote viewing) to observe her better. So I just stayed on this corner she’d pushed me into; thought about the next move.

—–

It took her about a minute and 15 seconds to complete the circuit.

I had come to Heartsdale to search for more information about John. Instead I found something quite unexpected: that I had already been here, *was* here in a different way. Taller, hmm. Did I mistakenly switch out bodies at some point? But this doppleganger sweeping by me like a second hand on a 5/4th watch was not ensouled. She was just a marker. But  — it — was — *me*. Think, Yoko Ona, think.

—–

“She doesn’t appear to be a bad witch listening in on her thoughts, Hucka Doobie.”

“No, she is truly mystified as to what is happening in this Heartsdale with its Ned and, um (checking), Pop in the Pavilion.”

—–

“Hucka, I think this mystery is bigger than the present novel, or moves beyond it. Better start the next.”

END OF “COLLAGESITY 2020 MIDDLE”; START OF “COLLAGESITY 2020 MORE MIDDLE”!

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Corsican Collagesity 06

Perspective has changed at De House. Mann has lost wo-Mann in a way, in a manner. A hole has been formed in the middle. Witches. Which witch is which? What is good and what is baad?

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Corsican Collagesity 05

He was in the cemetery again, neither Phillip nor Lime but *both*. Or in-between. “A linden in England is called a lime,” he recalls from his days as a Gaeta bartender. He also remembers “Rookwood”.

He is buried here. He imagines being within the grave, staring up.

He resists the urge to smoke even though it no longer matters now.

He spirals inside the grave to a different place altogether. He has Vertigo but it doesn’t drive him crazy. Instead: sane.

He is in his own world now, at his own Hills dividing Maebaleia aka Satori into 2 parts, North and South. He *created* this. But then another comes in and tries to take it over. He remembers more from the bar: philosophical discussions about a cubic moon of Our Second Lyfe, and even a Moon of the Moon where avatars are shrunk down greatly from normal size to accommodate the small space. Space. Corners. Cube. Furthest corners of Space. The Moon is relatively close. Far out.

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Corsican Collagesity 04

And so we end at the Hills of Bill again in the center of Maebaeleia, where an agreement between the World of Lemon and Lime World was forged, thanks to Yoko Ona in large part. She is a witch, true. But, we hope, a white one, working for the forces of good instead of evil. That is really our only hope moving forward. Because if not — we’re *all* screwed.

—–

“The agreement, dear *Lindens*,” she speaks in the yard before the legendary trailer, is that John and I will move forward into a new continent and create a new religion called *Peakology*, beyond the Sinkology that has dominated Our Second Lyfe so far. The first 3 true peaks are the Hills of Bill here: Turtle, Sifton, and then right here, at the highest, the namesake Bill Hill. We go within to sign the contract, to seal the deal. The continent of *Corsica* is born from *Maebaleia*.

“Okay,” Phillip utters.

—–

“Phillip, are you paying attention?”

“I’m paying attention.” He stops attempting to see the shortest of the three Hills of Bill, Turtle Hill (or Butte), from this higher vantage point. About 2 sims east it should be, he estimates correctly. But the blinds block his vision. He is blinded in that direction. But he could have *swore* the agreement was suppose to be signed there, in that more centrally placed position on the continent recently devastated by the 3 1/2 day North-South Civil War. He and Flat Ebbe and Flat Rodvik, Lindens all, are here to put a stop to all that. They were willing to admit failures in the past that caused all the conflict and division. But why the switch of location? It seemed meaningful. He couldn’t get it out of his big fat head. Options, he kept thinking. Options are important.

In truth, everything was still secretly revolving around The Room, even though no one present understood that.

—–

Phillip just blurted it out as Yoko Ona was penciling in some final corrections on the contract at the dining room table. “Why *not* Turtle Hill — or Butte?”

“This is the *highest* of the hills, the *namesake*. We talked about this in the phone call from this morning. You sure you guys don’t want to sit down?”

“They’re fine,” Phillip answers for both once more. The Flats are only here as witnesses.” In case something goes wrong he says to himself, hoping for the best (again).

She slides the amended paper across to him. He moves his elbows closer to the blue table to study. He’s read it all before, but just wanted to note the changes Yoko Ona mentioned in the call. “Bill Hill,” she insisted in it. “Turtle Hill (or Butte) is *in* the Hills of Bill but not Bill Hill itself. It should be signed there.”

“But Turtle is more central,” he began the counterargument, which continues.

He imagines staring down at a giant lime instead of a contract. Where has he seen this before?

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Corsican Collagesity 03

“I wanted to bring you here, Hucka Doobie, to show you where John and I use to meet to go to our various hangouts. Before he became — well, you know now.”

“Solid lime green,” responded Hucka, recalling the meeting. “Lemon”.

“Yeah, the whole *blurring* of the n’s. Like we can’t see properly. And we *can’t*. John is lost to me. But *here*. We could go back…”

“To go back is to die, Marty,” the resident Sunklands blog spirit offered to this.

“Yeah. I suppose.” Marty looked around. “Smells so fresh here after a pouring rain. This is where I also became the Fireman. In short: I want to help.” He stared straight at Hucka Doobie here.

“The Table.”

“Yes!”

—–

“I suppose it makes sense,” replied Baker Bloch later to Hucka Doobie sitting at the same. “He *does* live here after all. He’s just a skip and a beat away. Lemon can’t come, though.”

“Oh no,” states Hucka Doobie. “He has a, well, he has a hole in the middle that can’t be filled. Property of a *witch*.”

“Now Hucka, you know we can’t say that here.”

“*We* — just did.”

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Corsican Collagesity 02

For their second “date”, Marty took Hucka Doobie to a remote coffee shop in the sky on a parcel bordering his own over in eastern Urqhart. “Bring your mac,” he warned. “It’s always pouring rain there.”

—–

“It really is raining quite hard here,” spoke Hucka Doobie, staring out.

On his part, Marty wasn’t looking at the rain.

—–

“I think he likes me (!),” she exclaimed later to Baker Bloch back at the Perch restaurant in Collagesity one sim over.

“Oh, come on, Hucka,” said one of her two oldest friends in this world, along with female counterpart Baker Blinker. They go back over a decade now. “You know he’s probably still married to Linda Halsey. And he lusts after that Cathy Love Peace Hippie Child. And he’s had an affair with Audrey, even after causing the death of her husband Jeffrie Phillips before deciding to resurrect him at her urging. In other words: he plays the fields.”

“Strawberry Fields,” responds the wise bee person. “Lemon is back as well (!). I get to meet him on our next, er, get together.”

“Still afraid to commit to calling it a date, I see.”

Hucka Doobie knew Marty and herself didn’t have a real future as a couple. She was just trying to get under Baker Bloch’s skin, see how he felt about the whole situation. I guess it seems to be working? she queried herself while staring into his cold, dead eyes, looking for signs of life.

—–

“Well?” asks Hucka Doobie after an hour. “Where is he, Marty? You said he’d meet us at Perch.” Marty still wasn’t paying attention, staring down from Hucka’s eyes. “Oh I don’t know. Probably picking up more eggs for Yoko or something.”

Lemon’s foot enters the door…

… shortly followed by his body. “Hell-o hell-o hell-o”.

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