Monthly Archives: October 2024

00440413 (Arroyo)

“Chop!” I said, looking into the Dewdrop Inn room I’d force-opened and recognizing my dog at last. Well. At least the *map* of my dog. Martha’s Vineyard. Always wondering what it meant and why the feet were there. And the head with the two Chop names, East and West, like paired lips or ears or sumtin. Well that head is *this* head, those feet — clearly — are *these* feet.

My dog is a robot. And a sexy one at that it appears, at least to those of its kind. But maybe Chop is instead the robot in the chair — watching. Maybe the map is that of his true love, something he wants to *eat* — chomp away at. Like breakfast, hmm. Rose, I remembered. Better get back and finish my meal.

“Never mind me,” I wanted to say to the robots in parting. “Wrong room.” But I knew they couldn’t hear me. This was a spectacle, something only to be observed and that alone. Same as, er, Chop is doing here. I’m engrossed, he’s engrossed. Seems to fit, yeah. I shut what remained of the door and leave the motel and head next door again.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0044, 0413, Arroyo, Blue Feather Sea^, C2077, Maebaleia/Satori, Massachusetts, Witcher

00440412 (Badlands)

“Edward’s dead,” she put it bluntly, witnessing the spectacle herself. “Out in the desert. Dancing up a storm, dancing harder than anyone else. Then: the storm hit, shall we say. Like in Arroyo.”

“But… *I’m* Edward,” I say back, remembering the conversion. “In Kabusie this time, on the other side of Nightsity. Next to the canal. Ditch Canal. Or Channel.”

“No, that was a close call, but you’re not Edward. He passed you by. Close but no call. Lucky for you now.”

I recalled seeing the crybaby being consoled by a girl, probably a girlfriend or at least a friend. Then immediately afterwards: Edward, who I’d already identified as such; that was my actual nickname for him (Crybaby). He passed through me. I *became* Edward in the heart of the moment. Or at least I was convinced at the time. In retrospect, yeah, maybe Fern’s right. Fern the Nomad (now). Maybe it was close but no call. Like baseball. Like not being out at home.

“Dead,” she said again to reinforce her point, looking at me trying to grasp and grapple with the issue. “Out in the middle of desert which is the same as its edge. I went back the next day. I *saw*.”

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0044, 0412, Badlands, C2077, Kabusie

00440411 (metals)

It was Crazy Black and Crazy Blue at once, 2x crazy. Perfect match it seemed. She had almost finished reviewing the story of Big Woods. Or he, whichever. Who is who, which is which? Black and blue once more. Oz.

And at the very end of the Big Woods story we find Lincoln again, oddly enough. Crazily enough. Desert time, me thinks. AISLE can wait.

—–

https://idyllopuspress.com/idyllopus/film/tpr8.htm

“Oh, look. I found a penny!” she says in a New Mexico location, in the desert or at least very close to it. Arid. “Oh, and it’s heads up. That means it’s good luck.” The boy says, “I hope it does bring you good luck. Penny.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0044, 0411, Big Woods, Blue Feather Sea^, Jeogeot, Maebaleia/Satori, New Mexico, Oz, Twin Peaks

00440410 (cow?)

She came in from a planet called Red Dead, she said. St. Dennis, she specified. Said she was very busy there and what did I need? I asked her what was so important there that she was so bothered to meet with me, her other half after all. Something — the male counterpart — of sorts. Maybe we need to sort all that hierarchy and stuff out soon too. Maybe now, hmm. So I told her this after she sat down, ordered her own drink. She was wearing the Crazy Blue, good. That means she would be obedient to me. I checked my watch on purpose. “Been waiting 2 hours, you know. 2:27 now.”

“I know what time it is,” came her response. “I have a clock in my head.”

Doubtful, I thought. Then I thought again. Could she? Powerful, I knew. From another planet — probably true.

We went out on the balcony, me and her. Well, she was on the balcony and I was standing just inside, still staring at the harbour, the boat I couldn’t see because of the building and all. East end. I asked her about it.

“Oh that old thing. It’s just a cargo boat.” She stopped, looked at me with a glint in her eye. *She’s* the cargo, I realized. Mechanoid? So I asked her that too.

“Long long ago,” she began her answer. “There was a forest, a woods. Big Woods, let’s call it. And in the middle of that woods, a Sugar Shack, run by a gal named Sugar. But no ordinary gal. A *dinosaur* gal — small one, granted, but a dinosaur.”

“Yeah, you’re giving me the backstory of Aisle of Palms so what? And I suppose *this* Aisle makes 3, a perfect triangle.”

“Not perfect. But close.”

I turn on the shaders so I can see her better, in her true light and color. Hopefully I can keep from crashing out of this world again. But I couldn’t resist.

“Do you want me to change out of the Crazy Blue?” she asked, trying to adjust her AO so she could seem more natural standing in the corner of the balcony.

“Whatever.”

“You will have no control over me if I do.”

I felt the horn on my head, sprouting left right.

“Alright.”

She had gone through about 10 standing animations. I thought 2 were fine — including the present one — and told her so. “You can stop,” I said. “Just stop.”

“Do you think I’m fat?” she ended as the waves crashed behind her.

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00440409 ([delete name])

There’s a boat out there she came in on but I couldn’t see it from this angle. Blocked by the east end of the Harbour Master Building. I thought this queer. Why couldn’t I know?

And which of me is which?

Someone steps out of the Breakfast Aisle Shuttle in front of it.

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00440408 (rain of planets (they’re here!))

Planets you don’t even know the names of
Planets, you don’t even know their names

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0044, 0408, Starfield

00440407 (change)

“Don’t forget about Lichen’s 4 Stomach Tour,” I tried to ground Fern.

“Of course not. But back to immediate business. Black Wall.” Then she forgot. Again.

“Right, right.” I shook my head internally while nodding on the outside. Fern didn’t pick up on my doubts, which was a little disconcerting itself. Lack of recognition. Brilliant in so many other ways. But not irony — comedy in another form. I knew we were entering dangerous territory.

She drew more diagrams in the notebook before her, a gray Mead 5 star spiral with 22 holes and approx. 5×7 inch design. “Pre-1906,” she said, still looking down in a pause between scribbles. “Probably around 1893 or maybe even dating back to 1886, hmm. Anyway (she shook her head), we’ll see soon enough. So the Black, the White, the Green will all be in their proper place and not all mixed up during this period. She punctuated the page before her at the appropriate spots, apparently some kind of crude map as I understood now. “Auburn was still Slaughter with its Slaughterhouse Hotel, or close enough, before the scaredypants changed the name.” She scribbles some stuff on top of what I took now as Auburn on the map, near the old conjunction of the Green and White rivers as I knew from previous discussions. “Everything was right. We can even go there, you know — this Slaughterhouse.” She circles Auburn which she’s changed to Slaughter, with a little cartoon house with teeth drawn atop of it to reinforce the link. “Thanks to the magic of Our Second Lyfe. There we’ll meet Middle. Are you grasping this yet?”

“This… has already happened?”  I guessed, thinking of the snake, the tail.

“The Wheel is the middle of the Tarot, or at least the end of it (The Wheel, not the Tarot). 10… you met Tin at another hotel which is perhaps the same hotel — motel — in Room 10. You have arrived.”

“*You* have arrived,” I said. “What happened next?”

“I… drew my gun and opened the door”

“Yes?”

“She turned.”

“Right.”

“Then… black out. Loss of power.  But I recognized her. Tin for sure.”

“Ten,” I said. “The Wheel.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s where Lincoln starts his latest Brain Daze. Not 5 days ago. We’re looking right at it in the beginning. Sunset Motel in the Badlands again. Then he goes and hops on his motorcycle and heads back into town from whence he came, or at least the Rancho Coronado suburb. Leaves it at another service station there after walking around a while, finding stuff, interacting with people.” I end my quick review of the BD, wait for Fern to chip in. But she wasn’t there any longer. Where’d she go?

—–

“Are you Lincoln?” she said at the start, knowing it was truth.

“Yes? How’d–”

“You’re heading the wrong way. You need to go further into the desert.”

(to be continued)

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00440406

“It’s obvious that Hellboy (as she called him) is the Man in the Middle — this Middle Slaughter. And you know what that means?”

“No,” I said, lost in Fern’s brilliance per usual.

“It means we have to get to Slaughter before *it* gets to us. Black Wall. Diversion.”

Always the Black Wall for Fern lately. Where’s lighthearted Lichen when you need her?

“Pack your bags,” she then said. “We’re heading for Auburn.”

“Alabama?” I said. “What’s there?”

“Washington,” she corrected. “Like George. C’mon, let’s eat some cereal together and I’ll lay us out a plan.” She knew I was just a fill-in for Lichen but she had no one else at the time.

(to be continued)

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00440405 (Big Ear (Breakfast at Tippany’s))

—–

“Thank you for meeting with me [delete name].”

“Did I have any choice?”

“Not really,” Jer Left Horn answered. “Now about my brother.”

—–

“What did my brother tell you?” Benny Right Horn asked right off the bat.

“That you’re a liar and don’t trust anything you have to say. You’re a Democrat. That’s what he called you.”

“Well he’s a Republican,” the right horned one of the brothers responded. “They lie even more. They lie *all* the time, not just some of it.”

“He said… that only one can continue. The other must end. What does he mean?”

Benny pondered this for a second. “That only one of us is the true Horn. Where the message came through. Problem is, no one knows which is which. Tipping point,” he ended his point.


Breakfast Aisle

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00440404 (An Emily for Rose (The Zombies got it backwards (or at least that’s how it was sold to her)))

Well, she thinks. I believe I’ve waited long enough. Sticky Rose name problem solved, there’s no excuses left. Time to go into the hole. Just a short gondola ride away via that cable line over there.

—–

Soon she was in the gift shop, not very grossed out atall so far. She, like many others before her, found the fleshy environment, let’s say, kinda comforting actually. Like crawling back into the womb or sumtin. And there’s that hum, like an abstracted, dumbed down lullaby. Some find it unsettling. Not her. She’s one of the gifted ones; one of the people that could succeed down here (the pit thinks for her). She purchases a small yet expensive book about one of its many “grotesque,” flesh dependent creatures and moves on.

At the end of the 4th and last corridor to this entry level: dead end, with ominous tones beyond even for her, the gifted and perhaps the damned if she proceeds. Dare she jump over the barrier and experience the flesh directly beneath her feet, squish squish squish? Tempting… tempting!

Then she thinks of the deaths, and wonders why they don’t get that much publicity beyond scattered reports here and there in the media, seeming to almost treat them like jokes when they do pop up. The cover-up must go way up, she realizes, all the way to the president perhaps, a man soon to be named G. Cleveland if things go terribly wrong and time loops back on itself, mirroring what happened in the late 1800s. Best to stay down here until it all blows over, she decides. If she jumps over this barricade, maybe she can find a safe place to hide deeper down in the pit.

And this, of course, is where everything (first?) goes terribly wrong. For Rose Emily.

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