Category Archives: Key Shop

Adjustments

Wheeler heard the entrance bell jingle again. “Alright, I’ll be right there,” she said while trying to concentrate on making a key for Mrs. Cooper in Bemberg Apt. 11. She swears under her breath again. Twelve customers in 4 hours! And most wanting back orders. I should have thought more about buying this cursed little shop from Greentop before following through. The offer seemed so attractive at the time. I believe I’ve been tricked!

Wheeler turns to face the newest customer. Great, she thinks, another vampire. That’ll make almost half my customers so far. And this one looks worst of all. But then he said something Wheeler didn’t expect.

“What do you think, huh?”

She recognized the voice. “Baker?”

“Of course. It’s my new night time outfit so I can blend in here better. Vampires won’t attack another vampire.”

Wheeler adjusts her glasses. “They might want to be *friends*, though. Compare blood baths.”

“So…?” He extends his arms and turns side to side.

“It looks ridiculous, Baker Bloch,” Wheeler spoke honestly. “Besides, the streets are pretty safe here. If you haven’t noticed, there’s strong management in Bemberg at least. And probably in the other sim we won’t say the name of yet.”

“Working on it,” Baker spoke back. “Gonna spend some more time with the Oracle tomorrow on the problem. That and others.”

“Well, you did a good job linking Wegee with Key in this particular spot — that started the storyline flowing better. And then follow it up with OD. Speaking of which, talked to Greentop again yesterday. Did a tour of local fishing holes.”

“Oh? How’d that go? I see your clown face has cleared up. Visiting the country must have been good for you.”

“It was! But I need to get back to key making if you don’t have any other business here.”

“Guess not.”

“Go back out into the night,” she commanded playfully. “Attack those cats, those rats. Drink your needed sustenance. Then go back to your dark dank basement apartment and prepare for daylight. You do have a coffin? Because no one will believe you’re a vampire if not.”

“I thought you were suppose to hide your coffins — underground or in the attic or something.”

“I don’t know. You better study up on vampiring more if you’re going to disguise yourself as one. I’d ditch the whole concept if I were you. And: hope that was a freebie outfit.”

“It was the most expensive (vampire) one I bought,” Baker admitted. “57 lindens.”

“Well,” Wheeler breathes out. “I guess we’re both stuck with lemons. Mine a little more expensive than yours, but, there you are. Trying to adjust to a new town is painful.”

“I feel ya.” The thought crossed Baker’s mind just to pack it up and go back home. A small vampire said, “excuse me,” in a meek voice behind him, wanting to make his way into the shop to place an order.

“Town’s full of doors, Baker Bloch. I’ll give it that. If I wanted to stay busy, this is the place to be.” At least she’d hardly thought of Musician or Allen today. But a decision loomed. Above or below? Or… just leave altogether. She waved Baker goodbye as the littler bloodsucker pushed around him.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0004, 0212, Heterocera, Key Shop, VHC City

Test

“I thought we’d try this out tonight Hucka Doobie, since Wheeler and The Musician are away getting food.

Hucka Doobie was observing the planchette. “It’s spinning.”

“Yeah. Freaky. I thought we might have to hold the planchette but maybe not. Should we go ahead and ask some questions? Why don’t you read down through the list. Take your pick. Use your bee intuition to choose the correct direction.”

Hucka Doobie unfolds a piece of paper in her lap. “Alright. At the top we have… ‘Who is the owner of the Key Shop?'”

The planchette spin transforms into a back and forth movement across the length of the board. Then it goes to “YES”, and then the “O” of OUIJA. Then it moves to the center of the board and stops.

“‘O’ owns the shop?” Baker Bloch queries. The planchette returns to “YES” and then the “O” and then back to center. “That doesn’t really make any sense to me, Hucka Doobie.”

“Nor me. Let’s try another one. First off, can we identify who we are speaking to?”

The planchette spells out, more rapidly than the two expected, “THE DEAD”. It returns to center.

Baker stared over at Hucka Doobie. “The dead of VHC Town?”

The planchette hesitates, then moves to “YES” again and then more slowly back to center.

“Do you have a collective name?” asks Hucka Doobie.

“OD,” came the response after a small pause. But the “O” used was that in the word OUIJA again at the top of the board, and not the one that’s part of the 26 letters below it. And the planchette moved back and forth between this “O” and the “D” to its lower left a number of times before returning to center. Another thing: the “O” was lingered over longer than the “D” in each repetition.

“What do you think, Baker Bloch?”

“OD. The letter ‘O’ and the letter ‘D’?”

The board answered affirmatively.

“Maybe it’s initials, Hucka Doobie.”

The board then spelled out “OD” again, using the same motions as before.

—–

Meanwhile, Wheeler and The Musician were studying menus at a nearby sushi bar, oblivious to the oddity of the picture on the far wall.

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Wegee

“Best to not tell your Musician about all this right now. Until the memory fades about that face.”

“Yes. Best just to slide it back under there. For now. Did you get the planchette?”

“Got it,” responded Baker Bloch.

“Don’t lose it this time!”

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thin blue lines

“So this is where you’ve been hanging out lately, Wheeler. Wondered where you were.”

“Yes, Baker Bloch. VHC Town. Or is it VHC City? With the C at the end of VHC, it seems something redundant to add City to the end. Like the C could stand for City already, except it doesn’t.”

“Technicality, Wheeler. I prefer Town.”

“I do too. Just had to speak all that out loud to know.”

“Right. But we’re not here to talk nomenclature.”

“No, we’re here to talk business.” Wheeler pulled out a map of the involved sim from her coat and unfolded it on the circular table between Baker Bloch and herself. “We’ve identified at least 5 hot spots that can be used for dramatic purposes, Baker. The most important one for you is the [delete name], which could be a new place to set up The Table.”

“That *is* dramatic. So is [delete name] turning into your new Blue Feather?”

“Not quite that. Check the sim remotely as it is on the map. You’ve joined the appropriate group now.”

“Yes. [Delete name].”

“Then most lines will be blue. *Except*… the one next to the key shop. That shop is a portal (!).”

Baker increases his draw distance, unrenders volume, and then checks remotely as Wheeler requested.

He compares this with the map in front of him. He renders and unrenders volume several times. He zooms in as needed. He mentally ticks off each of the 5 highlighted locations. Satisfied he can locate all in the town, he returns his attention to Wheeler.

“And you’ve said you have a duplicate of the shop. And you own the, um, owner.” Baker was trying to feign calm to balance out Wheeler’s obvious enthusiasm, but he too was getting pretty excited. Possibilities!

“*Former* owner. I wasn’t as scared as The Musician. But, then again, I didn’t see the (clown) face full on. He’s still getting over it. He’s resting upstairs on a couch.” She points up toward the bar’s sign.

“What’s all that about?”

“Circus related possession — not uncommon as I understand now. But anyway, I bought the shop. I own the key shop. 250 lindens. Chuckles Greentop has been semi-retired since 2012. She was glad to get rid of it. Said the taxes had gone way up in the last several years on the small parcel. So I own it. I own it!”

“Hmm, so you said.” Baker Bloch removed his hand from his mouth. He’d been hiding a smile. “Should we go look?” He then scanned Wheeler’s map, jabbing the appropriate spot.

“You’re pretty good with maps, Baker Bloch.”

“I am. So let’s go.”

“Quick. Before The Musician comes down. I want to surprise him with the news.”

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Adoorable

“That’s very nice Wheeler.”

“Thank you. It’s a cat. It’s Bowie.”

“Yes I thought I recognized it. But it’s time to stop painting cats, Bowie, I mean, Wheeler. I found some doors.”

“Printer?”

“I don’t know Wheeler. Doors. Leading to you know where.”

“Painter?”

“Let’s just go. You can return to this project.”

—–

“Red doors,” says The Musican, stating the obvious.

“Hell?”

—–

But they didn’t go through immediately. The Musician returned to the chair beneath the Ear/Bar sign, testing out if he could see the doors from this perspective. He could not. However, upon going inside the bar and sitting down on the couch, the doors were in plain sight.

“Wheeler,” he calls through a window again. “Wheeler! Come here. I have more information perhaps.” Wheeler heard “Wheeler!” but that was enough.

—–

“I’ve seen these doors before recently (but not recently). Portal. Neighbor. Portals, actually.” The Musician takes another sip of his red cosmopolitan. The Painter does the same with her blue hypnotiq.

“Show me,” she requested. “Put the image in my head along with accompanying metadata. Like we trained for. The Before.”

—–

“I’m going to spill my pretty drink all over this expensive demo jacket if you don’t tell me about those doors.”

The Musician sent another picture to further explain. Opening. Red door. Doors. Reds.

“Octopus jar,” he then said, confusing the lot of us.

—–

Wheeler was not mad any more. She had put one and one together and then broke them apart, eliminating the right. Or left. “I found a shop that could help. Key shop. I knew something was up there but only reduced it down presently.”

“Let’s go,” requested The Musician eagerly.

“I wish I could remember where the two ones were that I eliminated the first. Or second.”

“Purposeful mistake. Think hard.” The Musician stared at her, encouraging. She then remembered that the page had been edited, not the post. She returned to the post. It was the room with the colored brain.

—–

The Painter started heading the wrong way but then got her bearings right. She walks by the Ear Bar again, past the furniture store and the Baha Bullet rezzer straight into the next plaza which they were told not to enter. Her hands trembling, she looked west south-west. Key store.

But they had been here before. That alleyway.

Nothing had happened. Where did she get the idea that this place was verboten? There was nothing to fear. She would walk into the key shop, get a key or perhaps even two (one for The Musician as well) and then leave, going back to her safe bar and accompanying plaza. Something had happened in the meantime, she realized. It was the cat. Or cats. Bowie. Bowie was missing. Björk instead. Then painting the Bowie cat over and over in order to restore. Hucka Doobie karma. The Musician said that Hucka Doobie was sending good vibrations over to VHC Town for healing. Hucka Doobie forgives Wheeler for turning into a bee that Halloween night and almost killing her in her classic bee avatar form. She couldn’t walk straight for weeks. Karma. What else was in store for Wheeler? She had done wrongs, she knew. Printer? Is Printer another 13 pack of karma coming ’round the bend?

—–

She waits for the keymaster. “Where’s The Musician?” she says to herself. “He was suppose to be right behind me. Maybe the doors weren’t locked after all,” she then speculates. “Maybe he went in without me.” But then The Musician was there, appearing around the corner after checking out the alleyway again where they had sat the day before. He puts another image in her head.

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