Monthly Archives: January 2024

January 20, 2024 · 8:08 am

00410604

“Not too bad for a one handed one legged pirate of the sea,” opined Libra Neptune, watching the ball fly far indeed. “Now do you see why I wanted you to play? The golf here is solid, it’s real.”

“You’re just ready to give it up, you say. Go back to St. Dennis.”

“Right, Black Pearl,” she spoke to the fellow golfer on her right, just out of camera shot above. “I think I can make a big difference now. Heck I might even open a course there if I can muster up the energy. The swamp surrounding the town could use some draining in my opinion. Just full of red neck hicks and alligators and snakes and so on. Useless, otherwise.”

“Hmm,” said Black Pearl to this, sensing a flaw in her morality chip, perhaps a carryover from those harsh harsh days of having to be a prostitute and all the difficulties it presents. Screws with your body, screws with your brains. She mentioned syphilis, and how it cleared up but took a while. Maybe this is some kind of lasting effect of that. Maybe… hmm, maybe that’s why she sold me the ship in the first place, Black Pearl thought, even though she revealed it was damaged later. Damaged like her…

“You’re next up Pearl… should I call you just Pearl?”

“Black Pearl is fine,” Black Pearl said back, always wanting to attach the color to the name lest she forget her own hardships. Both were driving the ball further than Libra by this point, even though they were relative novices. In truth, she was considerably older than she looked, with her son Scorpio Pluto now in his early 40s himself. So age played a part here, along with just sheer repetitiveness of the game. You lose your edge sometimes when you do something over and over and over. It was that way with sex for her, and now it was that way with golf for her. Time to try something else; did she have another chapter in her life?

Black Pearl drove her ball about 10 yards beyond Red Dead Beardy Head, inducing whistles of appreciation from the other 2. She was a natural.

—–

On a break between front and back 9’s, Black Pearl and Libra Neptune talked more while Red Dead washed his balls and theirs along with them. Libra unveiled her replacement plan to get back.

(to be continued)

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January 19, 2024 · 7:14 am

00410603

https://marketplace.secondlife.com/p/Rue-Saint-Denis-for-classic-or-BOM/15679735

“Well it was a foolish outfit and I was a foolish girl at the time. Blonde hair; rosy red cheeks after that, but not from rouge. Syphilis I contracted — still trying to be frank and honest with you guys. But it eventually cleared up when I got out of that crazy, mixed up place of a land full of bad, bad people. Arthur gave me some money. You see–”

“Arthur? Arthur Kill? I know him.” Red Dead Beardy Head again there.

“Err,” said Libra. “Yes,” she decided. “Yes, let’s go with him. Married to Shelley Struthers (partly named for Sally Struthers, TV daughter of Archie and Edith), right. It fits!”

“And what of Marsha ‘Pink’ Krakow?” Black Pearl responded to a slightly earlier declaration.

“The same,” Wheeler continued with the admissions. “Marsha ‘Pink’ Krakow equals Shelley Struthers along with 2 other components, a kid named Frankie Brown who provides some gestures and perhaps a conscience, and then another kid called Marsha. Shelley is the (grown up) body for the 3. Body, mind, soul we could call them, with the Marsha brain aspect up front and on top.”

“So… let’s cut to the chase,” said RDBH, trying to regain his wits in the barrage of strange information. “How do we get to the X on the pirate map?”

Wheeler dressed as Libra in her parrot dress exhaled. “You can’t… not with that ship.”

“You *sold* me that ship,” replied Black Pearl to this. “You *implied* it could.”

“I was wrong. That ship will divide the 2 of you. I know this because I understand the perspective from the opposite direction. I know the endpoint. I was *at* the endpoint. Red Dead Beardy Head,” she addressed the male partner of the 2 sitting across from her in the Perch Restaurant of Aisle of Palms, open for business at 10 but not serving fish until 4 to his disappointment. No perch in Perch yet. And will our damn waiter please wake up! he was thinking just before this. “Red Dead,” Libra said again, “you and Black Pearl will break up if you try to go in that ship. It’s certain death up there in Outer Space. I’ve seen the future!”

“But — you *sold* it to me.” Black Pearl was smelling a rat as big as a human and named Victor-not-Victoria. “You said the golf course is closing.”

“The golf course *is* closing,” followed Libra Neptune closely. “The Black Pearl was smashed up on the rocks outside. I fixed it up. But really, I didn’t fix it up. Not in the way that could take you safely to the X.”

“*Finally*,” said Red Dead, seeing the waiter shake his head and blink a couple of times before fully reopening his eyes. He’d been woken up with a poke from the right. Manager Percy had let him sleep until 10:15, feeling sorry for the overworked man who toiled both day and night, with few minutes for rest in-between.

Now, in the moment again, he was upon them. Talk of the ship and its position at the head of 2 streams of virtual reality would have to wait a bit; after some bites. “Sorry for the delay. Our breakfast special is perch,” he said, knowing it was unusual but wanting to please an irritated customer and his friends. He could hear like hell — just had to process all the information right after coming back into consciousness. Being both waiter and chef, he could make this so.

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January 18, 2024 · 9:21 am

Officer Howard’s wife

—–

“So how did you become an owner of a golf course? Libra is it still? I mean, as of 10 minutes ago?”

Libra aka Bermuda aka Atlantis High Priestess aka some other titles I’m not thinking about in the moment decided to be pretty honest for a change. “It all started when I got some money in St. Dennis.”

“St. Dennis?” replied Red Dead Beardy Head to this, tired of staring at Petty who was their waiter, convinced he is asleep instead of glaring at him. He’d heard of people doing such with their eyes open, and he was correct in this deduction as we’ve seen in an earlier post which this post is a direct continuation of timewise. We’re back with him and Black Pearl, soon to set sail in their sea ship to the outer depths of space, grilling just found Libra Neptune in recently founded Aisle of Palms on the Jeogeot continent of Our Second Life. Libra certainly had a story to tell, with a lot hanging in the balance.

“Money?” Black Pearl continued Red Dead’s line of inquiry. “From whom?”

“First off, let’s drop the pretense. I’m not really Libra. My actual name is Wheeler. I am what you could call a co-owner of this town. I *play* Libra.”

Wheeler let this set in a bit, then added: “Newt is my husband. But Newt is actually Baker Bloch, kind of Baker Bloch’s replacement. We’re king and queen — of sorts again.”

“King…” said Red Dead Beardy Head, utterly confused look on his face.

“… Queen,” continued Black Pearl again for him, just as shocked.

“Yes, that’s right. King and Queen. Of Aisle of Palms. On the Jeogeot continent. Of Our Second Lyfe. But, thing is, St. Dennis is separate from all that. St. Dennis is elsewhere. St. Dennis is (part of) the Shangri-La you seek. And I know the correct way to get us there.”

(to be continued)

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January 17, 2024 · 4:36 pm

certain deaths

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January 17, 2024 · 10:17 am

Valentine

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January 17, 2024 · 9:11 am

00410516

I feel like I have failed them, thought Atlantis High Priestess (etc.) into the sacred flame from her space, communicating with the Beyond. They’re heading toward Shangri-La but don’t understand what they’re leaving behind, Black Maria and so on. It will happen, she knew.

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January 16, 2024 · 9:18 pm

00410515

“If we discover a new land in the ship I think we should call it Redlands. After our current hangout. Whaddaya think?”

“How about *Black* instead. Er: Black Nation, say.”

With his quicksilver mind from all that pirating business down through the years, Red Dead Beardy Head thought of a compromise. “*Well*,” he started the new pitch. “Since red and black are both card colors, 50-50 for each, how about a card game. Say: Poker.”

Black Pearl laying beside him had to smile. He certainly was honoring both him and her with the name. But she couldn’t help countering with: “Black Jack. I say Black Jack. Fits the card part. 50-50 on the cards.” But my color up front and on top again, was the implied meaning.

“Okay, got another one. How about, say, *Hearts* — Heartsland. Like our two hearts are joined beyond just playing poker.”

“Awwww. How *sweet*.”

“Red on top, I know.”

“Yup,” she returned crisply, knowing the game was on again. “Spades,” she countered logically. The game of Spades, like we have the game of Hearts. Except, let’s see if I remember, *spades* trump everything; a black suit trumps everything.

“Okaay, but if I remember correctly (thinking quick again), Black Lady and Black Maria are variants of Hearts (game). So *if* we find new land, how about we stick with Heartsland — but the capital or the town we found there or whatever will be called Black Lady. I mean, Black Pearl of course.”

“Make it Black Maria and we’re good,” she finished the negotiation. Maria was her mother’s name as it turned out. Good to honor ancestors in a new land. Remember the past and roots while at the same time moving forward beyond them.

Heartsland, slightly changed to Heartlands, stuck. But Black Maria turned out to be Valentine.

(to be continued)

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January 15, 2024 · 10:54 pm

00410514

She was just standing there watching the waves crash when it flew out of them, hitting her in the thigh region and wiping that smug smile of satisfaction right off her face.

“OW!” she exuded with suddenly bulging eyes and down-turned mouth, body reflexively bending over in the sharp pain. “Damn thing hit me!”

“What’s that??” called Derek from the front of the boat they came on here from the mainland. Maebaleia is the continent again now, and Funnel is the sim. The island they landed on shouldn’t be here according to the map; drew their attention. It was all leading up to this.

“A can!” she shouted back over the continuing sound of turbulent water. Would it suck them in if they tried to return now? Was the sim aptly named because of this?

“Can?!” shouted Derek.

“Yeah! In the leg!” She picked it up after examining the mark it left, pain already easing off a bit. Unpopped, with pop still inside. Of course she dare not open it until the fizz settled down. Could take days. She was smarter in the ways of canned drinks than Newt apparently.

“Jimmy! Frederica!” Derek called to the people standing above them on the height of the islet. “We need to leave! Sarah’s hurt!”

“I think I’m okay!” said Sarah to this. She looked down again; no blood still. “Yeah, I’ll be okay! One of those bruising the ego more than bruising the body moments.”

“What happened?” asked Jimmy, standing next to Derek now but looking over at Sarah. She was upright again. She looked okay.

Frederica came up next. “Yeah, what is it?” she added. Jimmy was about to take a photo of her, a perfect spot, a perfect snapshot.

“It’s Sarah. She said something hit her in the leg.”

“It’s a can of pop,” she said, hearing every word despite the decreased volume of the talk. “It just, well *popped* me.”

“W-where did it come from?” questioned Jimmy. He looked out at the sea, the now strangely calming waves. They’d forgotten all about Tom. Tom came with them from the mainland. Tom was no longer there.

Satisfied Sarah was okay, Jimmy and Frederica returned to their former positions but the moment seemed ruined. Something about those 2 palms really bothered Jimmy now; he couldn’t focus camera or thoughts. He kept thinking about that thigh. He envisioned: a ship.

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January 15, 2024 · 12:31 pm

00410513

“I hear the perch is good here.”

“Don’t be silly, dear. They don’t serve fish this early. These are *landlovers*.”

“Oh.”

“So… *Libra*. Is it still Libra? I mean, since we’ve been walking? It was Libra about 10 minutes ago and I’m just wondering if the name still sticks.”

“You can call me such but, admittedly, I go by many names.”

“Yes, I’m seeing the bigger picture now.” She looked over the parrot dress, which Libra aka Atlantis High Priestess aka Bermuda aka Victor/Victoria redonned shortly after being released from jail by Officer Michelle Roundup. Some sort of pirate convention in town; they figured they would need the cell soon enough. Assign a hefty fine for the crime and move on.

“Where is our waiter?” asked impatient Red Dead Beardy Head. That man over there in the other room had been staring at him all the time. Is that our waiter on a break — taunting me? he wondered. Turns out it was.

4 handed Keat Owens, waiter/chef by day, private detective by night. He’d learned to sleep with his eyes open but he needed to wake up now and go to work again.

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January 13, 2024 · 3:56 pm

00410512

“I found the ship at a golf course sim which was closing up — got a cheap deal on it for that reason. Plus it was a mess, all cracked up on those rocks over there as you can see from the photo.” Black Pearl provided a photo to Red Dead Beardy Head much like the one below where she is finagling the deal with a woman named Libra Neptune who, of all places, had ties to Saint Dennis. So it seems like she has the power to manifest such realities. I, the writer of this here blog and attached current photo-novel, had no idea the Black Pearl ship would be here too. A gift, we can call it, ‘nother one.

“How ’bout Davy Jones?” said Red Dead still beside her in bed, although it was a different night than before. Plans had advanced. The restored Black Pearl, ready for space as it would ever be, parked in the vacant lot in back of downtown. They were staying in the captain’s cabin, testing it out. Well stocked with Caribbean White Rum — good start.

“Not needed in this story,” she replied plainly about Jones, knowing what he was referring to. *Her* Black Pearl was different from Sparrow’s. This was from a woman’s perspective.

—–

They were walking into town for a morning drink and a bit of breakfast when Black Pearl spotted her walking below Parrots for Pirates.

“Libra??”

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