Kolya also claimed the larger bamboo house at the very center of the sim owned by the same rental company. 128/128, he thought, standing upon it. This will be *my* center as well. I can finally find myself, see who I am. He looks around.
“Shells? No no no no no. I’m through with shells.” Alysha manifested in the chair below the indicated art, helping him out again.
“You need to focus on the *monster*, Kolya. *Can* — you do this?”
Kolya remembers the name friends call him: Can. This was a friend. They, together, were looking for not necessarily a foe but indeed a fiend, removing one important letter from the equation. He(-she) had been here a long long time; Kolya was picking up on that as well. Black Lake. Circle of 4. He knew that the lakes would attract him, tiny to not so tiny. He must make a map.
“You must make a map,” Alysha spoke back, in his head as well but also with her mouth.
He soon determined that this was the Black Lake in question, not the other more rounded water body just to the west. And it was more symbolic than anything. But he was not in his actual form any longer. He had turned into a painter. Oil me up, I suppose.
He placed a call himself: for help. “SOS,” he exclaimed to the girl who was not a girl on the other end, a friend this time instead of a fiend. “I’ll be there at 7 past 11.” She was currently resting against a rock wall, reading a red book and eating a red heart tart for health and good being. She was balanced. Actually it could be either of two girls, Alysha or Billie Jean Kidd. Let’s go with
Alysha Billie Jean Kidd Alysha. She packs up her book and heads down to the police station to steal a bike. She tries to put Ruby the green Grey alien out of her head, the matter being out of her hands. “She’ll be fine,” she calms herself. “I can do this one thing without worrying about her. Kolya is important too!” By the time she arrives at the station through the shortcut tunnels a cooler head prevailed and she just takes a rented boat over to the other side of the continent from the 765 Village. Paperweight was the destination, which had strong resonance with Paperville from a couple of photo-novels ago, perhaps 3, maybe 5 back (it was 7).
Kolya was in his thinking chair under the Wasteland sign when she arrived.
“I’m – so – *wasted*, Alysha.”
“No you’re not.”
“You’re so kind.”
“Yes I am. *Now*. Let’s go take a peek inside that Monster Book over there and see what we’re potentially dealing with.”
“Okay.” Kolya had moved away from Saturn and more toward Jupiter. Wendy had been right about cheering effects of the girl.
(to be continued)
He sat at the table outside the bamboo hut he’d rented several days back and thought about All Orange and what he’d lost. The phone rang (D Flat). The phone never rang.
“Hallo?” He was expecting someone jovial, not saturnine. He was surprised. He stared at the missing blue eye on the Book of Monsters before him as she continued to chatter. He dare not crack the cover lest the other one roll off. Especially now. Would he get a word in edgewise?
She hung up the phone. “We’ve got to keep an eye out on him,” spoke Jeffrie Phillips, glancing over at his bamboo hut across the water. “He may even try to off himself, say.”
“No he won’t.”
Her hair was now the green of seaweed but she was no monster, or at least Jeffrey thought. Was she?
“What next?” he queried about her appearance. “Your skin turns green?”
“Maybe,” she shot back quickly. Both knew that if this happened she was lost for good to him. Maybe even the mohawk would reappear.
Something was happening on this sim. A painter paints. A complainer complains. ART appears. A perfect circle. Pooh with his honey pot moves away from the scene with little to no impact now.
A perfect circle, eh? I thought, yellow included. I knew what this meant.