Category Archives: 0004

July 3, 2017 · 2:18 am

Better

Sadly, Baker Bloch indicates to his landlord through the scripted box above the door that he won’t be keeping his basement rental apartment. He’s already done the same with his second VHC City rental at the top of Bemberg Towers. Pulling out completely from the town, he is. Dreams of owning a gallery there called “Something To CHRO About” scuttled. He’s going back to Collagesity with the rest.

He opens the door and crosses the line between sims Bemberg and Sister just outside. An avatar immediately shows up, a dapper male in a black suit with white hair. Kohakt Resident was the name.

“Hey ho Soho hobo,” he exclaims happily. Baker Bloch attempts to be friendly and says hello, then asks if he rents around here. Kohakt mysteriously says, “Well this isn’t awkward, it’s fabulous. I wouldn’t because I am stripped rent wise already.” Baker Bloch was confused. Did he mean “strapped? (rent wise)”? Probably. “But it’s okay,” he quickly added. “I love the area.”

Baker Bloch voiced his suspicion. “You aren’t the *landlord/landlady* are you?” thinking that this may be Summerhill Nova or one of her cohorts in disguise. Why else would they show up just after he indicated he was terminating his lease on the apartment.

“Hey noo, relax lol,” Kohakt said to counter this, though. “Search and enjoy, that’s my motto.” Baker said that he liked the way Kohakt talked. He reminded him of some beatnik poet from the ’60s.

“You heading underground?” he then asked.

“Well, yeah,” Kohakt declares.

“Nice. It’s vast.”

“Let’s do it.”

“You’ve been down I assume.”

“Of course,” Kohakt answered. “Please. After you my friend.” Apparently Kohakt wanted Baker Bloch to be his exploring buddy. Baker mulled this over for a second, then acquiesced.

“Have you been past the crocodile pool?”

“I think so. But it’s been a long time since, well you know.” Baker was thinking again, making Kohakt prompt, “Well go on, I’ll be right behind you.”

And that was about it until the blue door. Baker went down the stairs outside his basement apartment leading to the underground but Kohakt didn’t follow. He looked back and saw him flying around aimlessly above. Was he that clumsy of movement? Baker asked himself. “Down here,” Baker clarified, making eye contact with him again. But when Baker reached the bottom of the stairs and went to the left toward the double doors heading to the heart of the underground, Kohakt was still not behind him. Baker gave up, and im-ed him, saying he’d have to explore the place on his own and hoped he enjoyed the journey. Baker opens the white door and passes from Sister to Bemberg once more. He stares at the blue door leading back to Sister. His own fate door.

Wheeler bursts through the white door. “Can’t act, can’t act, hmmf,” she says with a broad smile. Baker stares at her. “Well, it’s getting cold down here. Lead on! Let’s find The Musician going ’round in circles and make this a wrap.”

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July 2, 2017 · 10:16 am

Misdirection?

George manifests the planchette again and asks a question. “Will the east and west witches learn to coexist?”

—–

Wheeler was feeling better if still tired. Seeing this, Buster Damm had excused himself, saying he’d heard of trouble in VHC City. Wheeler reinforced that she could certainly fend for herself.

“Attack from the west, eh?” she ruminated while sitting in a raven black Victorian chair at the real Clare Nova’s church. “Well, two can play that game.”


“Or was it the east?”

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July 2, 2017 · 7:51 am

Knotted up

Collage 17 returns to Collagesity from Muff. Whole SoSo Gallery along with it. Red-green split fades and disappears.

—–

Woody bids farewell to his “summer home” in Bermingham. *He’s* moving to Collagesity! But I don’t think our story as a whole is quite done with that realm.

George is still there, for one thing.

Maybe Bendy as well. Probably is.

—–

Without Pitch/Baker in tow, Hucka Doobie says goodbye to the News and Views coffee shop across from the great hotel.

Yep, heading back to Collagesity too along with the others. He thinks of Pitch and what went wrong with this town. Or went right, now that the last of the vampires have been vanquished. After years of abuse Pitch has given up on VHC City. He use to be in the center. He became tired of living on the edge, without security, without a role to play. So he unconsciously attracted the end. More on that soon.

—–

Buster Damm came back to VHC City from the PCH Forest to find that his coffin underneath the Blue Angle had been deleted. He was exiled just like Pitch. Dead ball era over, I suppose.

—–

Mary: One last bit of “reeling them in” from her favorite fishing hole across the tracks from the city. Like Buster, she’s following Pitch outta here.

There’s too much at, er, stake, not to. Within the Realm of Orange or overall Sphere of Influence of VHC City, she remains sterile. Outside is another story.

—–

Another nearby red-green dichotomy. The abode of hot, temperamental Angelina Dickenson, a police woman of sorts. We haven’t met her in our story yet, and maybe never will. But she’s the one who drove the nails in the last two vampire coffins of the area. Again — for better or worse. Siren always set to on.  Continuously looking out for the town, especially the Sister side.

—–

But what of the Bemberg part? Still reading Sunklands, landlady Summerhill Nova sits in her office contemplating what to do about Baker and his several rentals there.

Obviously, she thinks, since Baker is the same as Pitch he’ll be leaving too. But should he be forced out? Punished, in a way. Summerhill is hoping he’d just quickly exit of his own volition and she could wash her hands of the matter. Let it just fade away.

—–

Baker himself stands before the blue door, thinking he should never have gone through it and made another dwelling place in Sister. Illegal, yes. Indefensible, correct. But, overall, temporary and harmless, like *everything else*. Like many of us after November’s big bump, Angelina was way under her land impact limit. Had the story been worth it? I think so. Else it would never have been told, I suppose.

—-

And we’re not quite through yet. The Musician is still circling around Clown Central, trying to find a way out for both he and Wheeler. Trapped in a dream. Sikul Himakt. He suddenly realized what had to be done.

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June 30, 2017 · 2:52 pm

Destination: Collagesity

She got the call around 9pm on Thursday. He offered to visit with Tronesisia at her cottage the following week to discuss his recent contact with Bendy. Work obligations prevented an earlier meeting. She couldn’t wait. The robot lady took the 2pm passenger line from Hooktip to Lapara, arriving an hour and a half later. They rendezvoused after Peter got off work at 6 in an interesting, narrow elevated park of the partially urban sim.

Peter SoSo told Tronesisia that he and his wife had moved to this location in May, ostensibly because of their jobs. To Tronesisia’s dismay, Peter said Bendy was *not* on the Moon of the Moon, but a place called Muff. However, the robot man had heard the news anyway: Prissy married Peter SoSo while he was away with Fisher! It makes sense species-wise, seeing that they’re both mer-people. But I don’t think surrogate parents Jack and Lily had planned it this way at first. They thought Prissy and Bendy were the ones, and that Peter was destined for a different mission. Patterns shift and change over time. Love is blind, etc., etc.

“He… was shocked,” offered Peter. The merman had gone far in advancing his language skills, but still spoke quite haltingly. “Now… trapped on Muff. He is not good. He is… not soso. So so. He is… in bad… way. He… mentioned *you*.”

Circumstances had suddenly swung a door wide open for Tronesisia and Bendy to be together, but there was a possibility she couldn’t find him. “Will the Collagesity rocketship still get me to him?” Peter didn’t answer immediately. “*Will* it??”

There was only one way to find out. She phones up Mary with all the news. She’s heading to Collagesity. The bridge and anything that happens along the way won’t stop her this time. Mary then phones up Pitch at the PCH Forest church, asks how Wheeler is holding up, then tells him about Tronesisia. Pitch confers with Buster about a plan. Buster will stay with the still ailing Wheeler. Pitch will turn back into Baker Bloch and find Karoz Blogger and Baker Blinker in Chilbo and bring them home. Codes and scripts must be checked and repurposed if needed. By all means, Tronesisia *cannot* become lost in space.

And then something else unexpected happened. Baker Blinker became a land owner once more. Collagesity North is reborn.

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June 30, 2017 · 7:30 am

Baumy

It was a most remarkable coincidence. Wheeler changes into a witch on Wednesday and is taken to a church on the western edge of the PCH forest to recuperate from a nasty accident with a Halloween tree, and the very next day a witch’s cottage appears on the far eastern side of this same woodland. George understood it to be his new temporary home, an upgrade from the Castle Tower. Duncan Avocado had explained to him that there was more than one Orange, and that the second who had assumed control by treachery was even worse than the first (Nova). The boy would have to stay in the holding forest a while longer. Was Mary even going to be his new mother? He’d already chosen a first name appropriate for the situation. There was the whole tentacled cluster of synchronicities surrounding the anticipated event. The Monster some called it. Others: Baby Monster. Whatever, it had many arms and it was large. It might even be tamed down into a dragon symbol in later times. Which could be earlier times. George was already a bit alive and dead at once. Wheeler Wilson moved forwards and backwards together. “Fo fo fo,” chants Malone from the Chasm Deep. Titusville.

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June 29, 2017 · 10:27 am

Newbie

On the main Bermingham beach, Orange Nova ponders dying and being so stupid about the last days of his physical existence. A boy walks up and stares at the back of the ghost white man-shark sitting on the other side of a rock, listening to him ranting on. George again.

He eavesdrops for quite a while, attempting to piece together the bare-bones story of the newcomer. George understands that he had his own realm, his kingdom, and somehow lost it through treachery. The word “bludgeoned” came up several times, always with forced pronunciation. Surprise attack in the night. It rang a bell for the lad. Also: something about cherry trees.

The boy introduces himself by answering a question the creature had just asked himself. “The place is called Bermingham, mister. The greater half of Muff and Bermingham. Not to be confused with Mutt and Jeff. That’s just Muff again.” He walks up to Orange Nova and, without fear, sits down beside the huge creature.

“At least I can feel the ground over here. The sand. Water? Let me test it.” Orange rises up and wades into the sea before him, but runs into some kind of invisible barrier about 15 feet out. He tries and tries to walk through it.

“No use, mister. That’s the end of *this* realm. Realm of Bermingham.” The boy waits for a logical response but still gets none. He begins to understand that this man-shark might be a little slow as he watches him continue attempting to break through an impenetrable barrier. Not that he judges — just an observation. “You might as well stop,” he repeats. “You’ll never get past it. Come on up to the shore here with me. Talk to me. Tell me who you are and a little about yourself.” Yes, the kid was much wiser than the grown-up in this case. He was use to being a counselor for the confused.

“You say there’s no use in keeping trying?” Orange Nova repeats back.

“No,” says George patiently. The creature finally turns around and waddles back to shore.

They sit together in silence for a time. Then Orange Nova began. “I was killed. Treachery. I was owner of my own realm, or close to it. Orange. My name is Orange Nova. I am one of the Novas they use to call super. You probably have heard of me.”

“No,” lies George. He knows who this is now. “It could be that you’re just famous in your *own* realm, not here. It could be,” he continued slyly,” that no one will know you here atall. There’s a good chance.”

“That wouldn’t be good. I rule through power and respect. If no one knows me — if I’m a nobody — then I’m nothing. I have zilch.”

“Not true,” responds the child. “You have yourself and your own consciousness and that’s always present. You are yourself here.”

Orange Nova remained addled. “I am my own self here?” He had a bad habit of repeating back anything anyone said that didn’t make sense to him. Which was quite a lot.

“Yes. Look around.” George waves his arm. “Newcomer’s Beach, the Magenta Sea, Master Duncan Avocado’s place over there.” George indicates his friend’s house to their left.

“This is what you have now. This is all yours. This is all ours. We are the dead and the unborn. I prefer the latter, but I’ve been here a while. Not too long to get back now.” But he knew his words would mean little to Orange Nova.

Ignoring what the boy had just said, Orange proclaims he is hungry, and asks what there is to eat around this dump. George explains that there’s no need to eat here. “No eating, no defecation. The whole digestive system has been ripped out, hehe. You can breath underwater too. You can fly. You can pass through walls, if not the wall that separates this realm from others. You have more powers here than you did before, even if you don’t realize it now. Trust me, it will come. Perhaps sooner for some than others but it will come.”

George stared steadily at Orange Nova now and the expression on his face, his aura. He’d give this one about a thousand years before a return.

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June 28, 2017 · 7:30 am

No workout

Baker Bloch knew something he could do to perhaps help immediately. There was one too many of the same color within the sphere. He transformed into King Orange and teleported over to his house in Saturn. Greater Malefic, opposite Tronesisia’s positively charged Rose MoonDream cottage. Realm of Oranges which should be just Realm of Orange.

He takes one last gulp of wine through his forehead and begins the process. The King knew Orange Nova usually woke up about 7 and headed over to Muscle Madness to begin his daily 10 hour workout. It was 5 now. This was a window.

He goes outside. “Eclipse nightclub,” he thinks, staring in its direction. “Damn fine goblets of wine.” He then peers further, just around the corner. White house.

Orange — the *fake* Orange — would be sleeping upstairs in its only furnished room. *Barely* furnished. This should be simple.

—-

Goblet raised, King Orange strikes.

And strikes again. And strikes again and again. And again.

—–

Orange Nova turns from blue to white. At 7 sharp he walks out of his house toward Muscle Madness, chained to a routine even after death.

He can’t pick up weights. He can’t sit on the benches. He can’t do anything.

Morris shows up.

“I’m the last person anyone wants to see in their lives,” he admits. “But it has to be done. Come with me Orange Nova. You’re time has arrived.”

Morris changes into a wolf and leads him through the portal to the Great Beyond.

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June 28, 2017 · 6:20 am

Church

Baker Bloch changed into Pitch Darkly and summoned Buster Damm to the scene. They couldn’t think of anywhere else to go, so they took her to a nearby church just on the other side of the woods. Tronesisia and Mary were supposedly still out of town. VHC City was not safe any longer. King Orange’s place was too close to the edge for comfort. No, it would have to be the church. The real Clare Nova’s church.

The next day, after a good night’s rest in a barrel bed located on the second floor, Wheeler felt a little better. “You called me Clare,” she said to Pitch Darkly, sitting in a nearby chair. Damm was out gathering firewood in the forest. “I distinctly remember your voice saying the name Clare in alarm. You thought I was dead.”

“Actually, at first I thought you were Mary. But, yeah, I did say Clare. I’m not sure why. I knew you were the person in the picture.”

“What picture?” asks Wheeler.

Pitch uncrossed his legs. “Never mind that right now; I’ll show you later. First you must get better. That was a nasty collision you had with that tree.”

“Hallo-ween tree,” she said.

“That’s right. Nowhere near Christmas. I don’t know why you were there. Do you remember your name now?” Pitch looked at her keenly.

“I’m Wheeler. My name is Wheeler. Wheeler Wilson.”

“That’s it,” says Pitch Darkly, encouraged.

“Or is it Wilson Wheeler?”

—–

“Very sad,” Pitch said to Buster later after they’d shared a meal of fruit and vegetables downstairs. “It’s as if she’s stuck between regular and reverse times.”

“She must have made successful contact with the shadow being.” Buster looks around the room. “Sure are a lot of bear images around here, Pitch. And more in the woods — real ones. There’s a cave if you haven’t noticed. Bear cave. Thing shocked me when I went inside and turned to the right. But she’s a right fine fellow. Name’s Abigail. But she’s mad as hell at the real Clare Nova. She’s hunted her kind. For example, look to your right.”

“I know. I’ve seen it over there.”

“And your left.”

“Appears to be circus related,” guessed Pitch. “Clowns… bears. We’re moving closer to the truth.”

“Wheeler may not fully come out of it for a while,” said Buster, sighing.

“We may have to keep her here,” suggests Pitch. “Nowhere left to turn.”

“And danger all around.” Buster scans the room again.

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June 27, 2017 · 3:26 pm

solidsphere

“What do you think Buster? It’s the first image that comes up in a google search for ‘pitch darkly’ that isn’t a part of the Sunklands blog.”

“But… there’s nothing in it,” Buster logically replied.

“Oh, there’s a bit of blonde or red hair if you look closer. Right down there at the bottom.”

“Not much.”

“No.”

“So what does it mean?”

“Hmmmm… I’m sensing a general absence about the Pitch Darkly character. And of VHC City as a whole. I guess you heard that George won’t be joining us anytime soon.”

“Yeah, sorry about that Pitch,” Buster replied. “False pregnancy alarms are tough. I have 23 children — I think — scattered around not only VHC City but the whole of mainland. Been around, you know. 2 by what use to be called Blue Angels alone. Use to live underneath the hot spot, hehe.”

“Thank you Buster. We’ll keep trying, of course. I want to have a kid so bad.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you really?”

“Ummm…”

“You don’t do you?”

“No.”

“Not at all, do you?”

“No. Not really at all.”

“Well there you go.”

—–

Outside the Sphere of Influence or Realm of Orange (take your pick at this point), our boy George has discovered a small Christmas tree on the southern edge of the PCH Forest he now dwells within. “Presents!” he cries, and looks at the tags. The one with the green bow up front is from Lou. The larger present that has a red bow says it’s from Morris. And then perhaps the biggest one tied with a white ribbon is from Osborne. Osborne Wells. Which to open first??

—–

Afterwards, Baker Bloch goes to the same spot in the woods and find something different: a seemingly dead witch glued to a tree she obviously ran into while driving around drunk on her broomstick. He now realizes whose head it is at the bottom of that empty picture.

“Clare!”

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June 26, 2017 · 11:30 am

Inside Out

“I don’t see the Castle Tower on here,” he says, peering intently. “*Nor* the Crystal Cottage.”

“No,” Tronesisia replies. “We’ll have to redraw the map soon.” She points.

“And there’s my own cottage. A bit inside the circle apparently. You can’t enter there. You will have to stay in the forest. Beginning just beyond the railroad. Just outside his influence. Realm of Orange. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“We must leave this place now.”

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