Category Archives: Nautilus

Queen

He continues to talk to his boss even though he isn’t with him any more.

“That boat over there in that bay, Jeffrey,” speaks Man About Time mildly. “Lower Austra. But just beyond, just beyond the bay: Wild West. That’s how they slipped away from Miss Ouri, Jeffrey. They outsmarted her, which is difficult to do. Someone must know the whole map to do this. It’s like they have the entire knowledge of Nautilus itself.”

“Think,” he could hear Jeffrey Phillips in his head now, which he often does.

“That’s right, Jeffrey. (The) Thinktank (sim) is just beyond the bay. The Wild West.”

“No. *Think*.” Jeffrey often emphasized words for Man About Time in his head because he misunderstands what he’s actually trying to convey. Because Jeffrey Phillips is still around, just not physically.

“Oh okay. Think, huh?”

“Think,” he finished.

—–

“We went out on the same date. March 1, 2022. Yet he was a King and I was a Bishop at best, a Knight.”

“9 to 5, yes,” stated Wheeler Wilson to Baker Bloch at The Table, which had moved from the Blue Feather up to the Castle in De Skies, although not out of Collagesity itself. It was a conundrum because (the castle) sat in 2 completely different places on the continent at once: Lower Austra’s Collagesity and North’s Rooster’s Peninsula, with the ultimate link being glowing MOA down in the basement of each. *They* sat in these 2 positions. “I think you underestimate *your* position, though,” she continued. “Rook… you were a rook; a minor rook but a rook still. And people around you didn’t like it because you had no ambition to further your place in life. You were happy as is, just riding everything out until The End. You were stuck on a 5 which was much closer to 5 than 6 and you were satisfied. That was the basic issue. That caused the distancing.”

“I started out as a Pawn.”

“We all do,” explained Wheeler. “We all do.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0506, Crisp Sea, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Wild West

statement of fact

This boat remains landlocked.

I have them now.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0505, Crisp Sea, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Wild West

Frenscent

The white block shoes were not ideal for walking on rocks but she had to find something on this beach, perhaps a discarded *Can*.

There!

But how to kill that man who found it first and then dispose of the body? Issues. Always issues.

Pincushioned Nauty hid behind a nearby tuft of grass ready to run interference on this beachcombing chump if needed. He’d found MOA and that called for protection. Because *everyone* still in their right mind was looking for it, good or evil. Miss Ouri: probably evil since she’s emphasizing kill over kiss, death over love.

Whatever you seek with focused intent, there it is. Fear (tentacle emphasis) can bring you to this point as well.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0504, Crisp Sea, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Wild West

00320503

“It sits on grass — solid ground — instead of floor. There is a rainbow sphere like a giant illuminated marble in the middle, surrounded by frozen swarming tentacles. Rest vs. work, yin vs. yang.”

“Man About Time?” I speculated, knowing he waved at this thing like he did to himself before. Continuation.

“That and more,” agreed the other, yet to be determined. Maybe Wheeler with her green and blue asymmetrical eyes. Miss Ouri perhaps if they are matching instead. Feminine anyway. Female.

We should also determine if we are dreaming or awake. Could be difficult.

MORE SOON.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0503, Collagesity Fordham-, Lower Austra, Nautilus, NORTH, Rooster's Peninsula

00320502

Listening through the walls and the coke machine is over. It’s time to find out who’s in the basement. Is it Rooster?

I think it must be Rooster. Smells like Rooster, even from this distance. We’ll see.

“Halt! (wheeze)”

It wasn’t Rooster. He backtracks a bit; forgets about the end of the tunnel for now.

“Who are you?” he asks mildly.

Squeaky voice, like a inflatable toy full of little holes: “I am (wheeze) the answer you seek.”

Significant pause as he takes the creature in. “Where’s Rooster?”

“He is (wheeze) not here yet.”

Smaller pause. “Will he ever be?”

“(wheeze) No.” Slowly and skillfully the seated small being then moves a chest pin down to emphasize his pricked nature.

“Funny,” is all MAT could think of to say.

“Is (wheeze) it?”

Voodoo doll, Man About Time mulled over. Obviously related to Kactus back in the library — up in the library, just above him in fact. He tries to see through the ceiling toward it. Doesn’t work.

“Ponder (wheeze wheeze) the nature of the peninsula, another (wheeze) sticky outy thing (wheeze wheeze). I am (wheeze) running out of (wheeze) air (WHEEEEeeeeezzzee).”

The final prick did him in. He shouldn’t have done it, MAT realized. Like Conception Concepción Conception, he’d made an error between his legs.

He moves on beyond the deflated being, encountering himself in the first of two cells off the passage.

“Hi me,” he said nonchalantly to himself.

Should he wave back? Or is that how you become trapped in the first place? Acknowledge that you’re here already? MAT decides to ignore him(self) and walks down to the final cell, the end of the journey that has become this post. Is he ready? After seeing himself down here, what choice does he have? No going back.

“What is it?” he asked, out of his cell and sneaking up from behind.”

“How–?”

“I think you should go back where you came,” the other requested, pointing down the passage over his shoulder while he finds himself waving at *it* for some reason. MOA he knew, but that was just another puzzle inside a riddle inside a cypher. The foul smell was starting to become overwhelming; not Rooster indeed. “Let me handle this now. I’ve been waiting for you after all.” STOP

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0502, Collagesity Fordham-, Lower Austra, Nautilus, NORTH, Rooster's Peninsula

on Dasher

“Rooster,” he mutters, seeing the weather vane atop the barn on his peninsula. “I must think about this further.”

Full perms on the property here.

I wonder if Rooster could be related to Santa Claus?

What are you Nautilus?

Why are we here?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0501, Iowa, Nautilus, NORTH, Rooster's Peninsula

00320417

Swanie is finally asleep and dreaming up her own characters to play with. Center of the night: time to crack into that Monster Book for real, but caarefullly so as not to jar loose the remaining marble again. (Got in) so much trouble before!

He opens up the book in the middle which is the same as the beginning. Just then, the “front door” of special collection slides forward. Someone enters.

“Ross C.!” Man About Time exclaims in a rare outburst. So mild usually.

“I’m glad you made it back, sir,” she said in her robot way, continuing to dust around the shelves and making up time for last week’s snowstorm. Ross C., Man About Time ponders. Haven’t seen her since…

“Sir?” MAT still doesn’t respond. “Sir?” She approaches the reading table. “Oh dear, he’s gone a bit *glassy*-eyed, hehe,” and then dusts him off as well while she’s there.

Pretty good joke for an interloper.

“Oh look,” she continues while looking down at what he’s studying. “Abner again.”

The marbles fall out of his eyes and he can see. But Ross C. was gone. Ross C. was never there.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0417, Arkansas, Collagesity Fordham-, Lower Austra, Nautilus

Fred…

Cone grew up in Pine Apple, Alabama, with a population around 100. He attended Moore Academy, a one-room school from kindergarten through high school. He did not play football because there were not enough people to field a team.

He emerged from the blue and yellow tent in another dream, a blue and yellow type dream himself. He closely studies the pine cone atop the book tree we found Agent 47 (or 23) reading beside a bit earlier, remembering something about his father. Pine cone… pineapple cone, he free associates. My father lived in one. The cone became the same as one of his eyes. The Other: The Mother.

“I’m worried about my son,” Snowmanster confessed to her bartender at the town’s Hole in the Wall. “He’s built this whole fantasy library around this Kactus figure he made up when he was a kid and still believes in. He *is* Kactus… at times. When he’s playing that role he doesn’t remember who I am, who his parents are. His whole life becomes a blank.”

Now kimono clad Miss Ouri waited patiently for Snowmaster to come around to the obvious, and the prickly green doll she held in her arms. Maybe she needs a coffee mug or t-shirt to spell it out better. Don’t be a prick! The white swan turns into a black swan.

Wheeler wakes up and instantly remembers to jot it down thanks to a strategically placed poster. Good ol’ Arkansaw! Back to reality, phew.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0416, Alabama, Arkansas, Collagesity Fordham-, Lower Austra, Missouri, Nautilus

radioactive (041422)

Well, Eric is not standing but the sentiment is definitely there. He’s reconstructed his Delta based blue and yellow tent in the Collagesity library, either skybox or ground, take your choice. Even both or neither if you wish, reader’s option. It could be time to get more of his story. “I’m assuming you’re a man, and not an Erica.”

“Correct,” he says in his dreams to us. Because he only exists on Delta and has those memories during sleep. When he wakes up, POOF. Gone.

“What happened?”

“I ran out of money what can I say. Life’s circumstances. But I got too far out, saw too many things.”

“UFOs?” I guessed.

He looked out his tent toward the New, toward the regulated pine forest across the meadow across the river. What he saw was inside that. We have more information.

Erik wakes up. He later sits at his visiting scholar writing desk watching the tent start to glow in his mind. “Strangest dream,” he mutters to himself. “Something is not right.”

“Who’s that?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0414, Collagesity Fordham-, Lower Austra, Nautilus

00320413

It was getting foggy again. They must be close to the library. “Who are you?” she demands from the nefarious agent before her — ‘nother one — on this 3rd of levels, with yet another door to go through to reach the absolute end. “47,” he said, still reading, which was a lie because he was 23. Woman now: no hair on the lip atall. Thanks to the drink. “Reading about you, actually.”

“Oh yeahhh?” She was trying to act tough, heard gays or lesbians tend to do that. Stereotyping, even though she is one of ’em now.

“Um, yeah,” he answered plainly back, wondering about the posturing. She adjusts and leans left. She thinks it is the right thing to do — to back down from this man who seemingly has a plan. “Panama,” he continues to follow that last sentence. “Bridge between North and South.”

“Phooeysticks,” she barked, and then actually covered her mouth, wondering where the words come from. Phooeysticks? What kind of childish utterance was that?

But then she remembers saying it, long ago. In a crib by the silver shore. She said it to her Pop.

She looks toward the end which is not quite the end. “What’s behind the curtains, Pop?” She was talking in her head to her long dead father, going on 20 years now. “Oz,” came the kind voice back. “Or Ozzie; whichever you wish, darling.” She now knew she was dreaming but couldn’t wake up still. “Go to the pulpit and see,” requested the voice again. Agent 23 remained silent and frozen, his role done for now. She proceeded forward and sat.

—–

She still held the pop in her left hand, which was the channeling device. She still heard Pop in her head. “Feel the landscape, feel the *ground*,” as the lightning struck all around the picture before her. The tree! she thought. The swamp tree, but a… tamer one. One I can actually deal with. Not the one…

She recalled the last level. Sykes.

No need to go there now.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0413, Long Islands, Nautilus, Wild West