Category Archives: 0004

May 24, 2017 · 7:57 am

not clowning around 02

Pitch Darkly continued the formalities. “Nice of you to cease your fishing and come for a visit, Chuckles.” He was thinking she cleans up nicely.

“Please. Call me Delbert. No: Wanda.”

“Alright, Wanda. What brings you here this fine morning? And if you’re wondering, by chance, I’m not a vampire chained to a night and day cycle. I’m *weaker* during the day — certainly don’t do any large killings at this time — but I’m perfectly okay otherwise. I avoid direct exposure to the sun for long periods obviously.”

“Understandable.”

“Wheeler said there was news about the Novas.”

“There is. The, ahem, *immoral* person Tronesisia brought to your and Buster Damm’s Kill Shack the other day…”

“Fisher,” inserted Pitch Darkly. “But not a fisherman. I don’t think. Just a name. Yes, he was immoral and thus worthy of sacrifice as determined by the Book of Blood. The chess game was indeed rigged. His former slavebot Bendy has been freed to go back to his proper place in the skies.”

“Anyway,” Wanda/Chuckles continued, “turns out he was also someone else at the same time: Clare.”

“Clare?” Pitch asked. He pretended like he didn’t know who this was.

“Clare Nova,” Wanda clarified. And not an alt. A rebis. Like you and Baker Bloch. Something to do with the clowning disease.”

“Oh, Clare *Nova*. What does this imply?”

“Fisher is dead,” spoke Wanda, wondering how long it would take Pitch to get it. “And Clare Nova is Fisher…” she urged. “So what does that mean?” Pitch Darkly shrugged.

But he knew what it meant. Wheeler had just gone from understudy to star.

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May 24, 2017 · 7:20 am

Blue Angel

“The Musician said he wanted us to check this place out, Hucka Doobie. Oh wait, he’s started.”

Look at me
Who am I supposed to be?
Who am I supposed to be?
Look at me
What am I supposed to be?
What am I supposed to be?
Look at me
Oh my love, oh my love

Here I am
What am I supposed to do?….

“I’m not sure I like it as good as News and Views for a hangout,” whispered the bee-person to Baker Bloch while The Musician continued his crooning. “Nice song, though. Who is it?”

“Who else?”

—–

Buster opened his lid to listen better. “Damn. What’s all that racket up there? Wednesday afternoon already?”

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May 23, 2017 · 7:02 am

pulling a sis-bro

There was a second death in the Underground. A dreaming Wheeler had foreseen the event. It involved herself.

—–

It took her ages to figure out the correct clown costume to wear. It had to be extreme enough to be believable — she had definitely been clowned. But not too over the top. Not at this time.

The shark-man lumbered up for their prearranged meeting. “Claribel: greetings. That a new outfit? I thought you didn’t like dresses.”

Must ward off suspicions at the start, Wheeler thinks. “Oh just something I threw on.”

“Threw up on, haha.” Orange was known for his bad jokes. “And your face. You look redder. You sick or something?”

“Ah, who knows with me,” and then she pretend retched but only ended up spitting on the ground beside her.

“Good one, Clare. There’s my little clown-face coming through.”

Wheeler’s plan seemed to be working. Chuckles Greentop had provided the keys. Just dumb down all interactions to a crude minimum and let the feigned clowning disease do the rest. Not-so-bright Orange Nova was becoming comfortable; any doubts about identity abating. Perhaps this wouldn’t be the day she perished.

—–

She didn’t want to sit this close to him but Orange insisted. He sniffed her a couple of times during the conversation but that was the only signs of lingering skepticism Wheeler detected. They were now in the northwest corner of Bemberg, technically Summerhill’s realm, Orange said, but he liked the bench poses in this small, remote park of the city and would “take his chances.” The shark-man was helping Wheeler put the pieces together with almost every uttered sentence. Why the Novas were here in the first place, these *Super*novas as the locals under their subjugation once called them and still do at times. Orange was the 4th and youngest sibling, with last definitely representing the least in this case.

Wheeler just kept leading him through a maze of clumsily collected information. About an hour in, Wheeler figured she had enough to chew on and opted for safety. She excused herself, saying she needed to check the air in her shoes before an evening hike.

She walked south in the direction of Hooktip to complete the ruse, while Orange trod back north to Saturnia. His sim, he thinks while reentering the grounds of Muscle Madness. Or will be one day; Claribel be damned. The Realm of Orange.

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May 22, 2017 · 4:19 am

Greater VHC City

“Catsocks (Catalpa-Tussock) sinkhole, Buster. This is where VHC City and its Chelsea hit a new low.”

“Deal with the etheric Plane of Vampires.”

“Plan-*et*,” Pitch Darkly amended. “Planet of Vampires.”

“Or just (an airplane) full of vampires,” Buster tacked on. ‘Or all three or any combo of two of the three.”

“Or none at all,” added Pitch Darkly.

“I always thought it to be a planet sized meteor, Pitch.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Buster.”

—–

On the opposite side of VHC City from the sinkhole, Wheeler was attempting to sit on a bench in a small Saturnia park with little luck.

On a large, smooth rock beside the bench she found a jar of fireflies and a book describing what appeared to be a town in the Lapara sim, also located on the Heterocera continent but considerably north of VHC City. Owner of the book (and town?): Clare Nova.

While she studied the text and photos within, Wheeler heard and then saw a tautly physiqued shark coming up the hill toward her from the direction of Saturnia’s Muscle Madness store. Not Clare but Orange, the brother. Yet another Nova.

Wheeler stood her ground and got ready to transform. Would this work?

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May 21, 2017 · 7:56 am

here and there

“So you’ve decided to play the role of Clare Nova, Wheeler. Third Nova sister.”

“Third *found*,” she said. She takes another sip of her Cabernet Sauvignon wine. “Somewhere in this store is the appropriate avatar. A step up from (Summerhill) and (Golden Bee-ing), true. Something with a little more meat and flesh. Maybe the ancient alien.”

“Study up more on the real Clare Nova,” Baker Bloch suggested. “Find out additional stuff about her land and its relationship with The Diagonal. We’ve already discovered that obelisk tucked in the southwest corner of Hooktip right on the line…

… and then an accompanying leaf screen in *Leaf*roller to the immediate south.

Synchy stuff still going on.”

“And the multiple rose pictures The Musician found in Sister galleries,” reinforced Wheeler. “In his dreams.” She turned toward her Musician, now fully awake and tinkling the ivories of a nearby piano. The tune for the day: David Bowie’s “Alladin Sane.” Third take was the charm.

“Where’s Baker Blinker?” Wheeler suddenly asked.

“You know where they are,” Baker Bloch responded.

“Oh yeah. Chilbo.”

—–

“Where’s Wheeler?” Karoz suddenly asked.

“You know where they are,” Baker Blinker responded.

“Oh… yeah.”

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May 20, 2017 · 7:40 am

Sister Diagonal

“68/68/93”, The Musician as Sikul Hamitk began. “Almost knee deep.” So that was the Diagonal Pool written off. The first, the cuing point, as it were. The rest, the dreaming Musician found out, didn’t really count in the matter (Big, Deep, Oblong, 2 unnamed). Except for the fact that there were 6 pools instead of the indicated 7. The sim of Sister is born.

He decides to follow The Diagonal above ground. It crossed these stairs between 38/38 and 40/40.

It passes through this colorful, abstract painting of Montego Bay, Jamacia at 65/65, perhaps 66/66. “Hmm, almost directly over the Diagonal Pool here,” ruminates the dreaming Musician. “Should it instead be named Montego Pool?”

The Musician as Sikul Hamitk moves upwards. 88/88. FTI Gallery confronted.

100/100: FTI Gallery exited. He spies the spinning logo of News and Views just visited by Hucka Doobie, Tronesisia and Baker straight ahead.

And then The Diagonal passes through the right edge of the far picture of roses at 140/140 (he sits on the bench here at 136/136).

151/151: More flowers. I believe that might be even another rose to the right (excuse me miss!).

And at 150/150 on the other side of the wall: definitely more roses (!). All of these are from different Sister galleries.

And then The Diagonal ends its upward passage through the Sister sim in the center of this *diagonally* placed marker, complete with a microcosmic map of the area. Quite synchy I think you’ll agree.

The Musician awakes satisfied that The Diagonal still has power in this sim, despite the loss of 97/97/97. But there’s always Rubi for that. 🙂

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May 20, 2017 · 5:52 am

winesaps

“Soo… are you really Baker Bloch playing the role of Pitch Darkly or Pitch Darkly playing Baker Bloch? Enquiring readers want to know.”

“It’s to be determined, Hucka Doobie,” answers the man in question. Baker liked staring out at the lively action in front of the giant, virtual hotel, but he had another role to play tonight and Hucka needed to be seated in the forward facing chair to effect the setting. Because they were not alone tonight. Tronesisia sat on a stool at the coffee bar, pondering what she had just done.

Her new vehicle was parked in the middle of the aleyway behind the shop. Aley-way.


Dramatization.

“Should we go up and talk to her?” asked Hucka Doobie, waiting for Baker Bloch to make the next move.

“Pawn to King 4,” he said, and walked straight to the bar, sitting beside Tronesisia. Hucka Doobie then joined them. No one Everyone ordered drinks. It was a sober affair.

—–

“There’s something about this place,” exclaims a flailing Pitch Darkly. Gravity all nonsense now, I suppose. Are we about done?”

“Yeah, 10 bottles for you and 10 for me.”

“That wasn’t the agreement. If you haven’t noticed I’m considerably larger than you. I’m 200 lbs. and you’re 50 soaking wet. So we’ll graciously say it’s a 4 to 1 ratio. That’s, let’s see, 4 for you and 16 for me.”

“12 and 8,” Buster Damm bartered in turn.

“14/6. And that’s my final offer.”

“Done.” Buster Damm spits in his hand and extends it to the flying Pitch, but the larger vampire’s dead ball era days were long gone. He’d take Buster’s word for it.

—–

“That’s disgusting Buster.”

“Thank you. Better go get rid of the car.”

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May 19, 2017 · 7:53 pm

back seat dyer

“Ahh, so you two are back already. How was Zoidberg again? How’s the folks?”

“Um, fine I guess,” Fisher the driver of the mini replied. “Who are you?”

“Tronesisia,” the gleaming silver robot lady responded. “New owner of the gas station. Old owner, or his son at least, told me all about you. From the future, eh? Don’t get a lot of those around here.”

“What happened to the old owner? Doggie, wasn’t it?”

“Doogie — the son. Tragic thing,” spoke Tronesisia solemnly. “Father passed away. Son decided to pull out the stake driven into his heart and move on. Took his marshmallow man with him. Now I’m all alone here, without help. Either of you need some dough? I have hours.”

“Not really,” replied Fisher. “No, we’re good,” mumbled Bendy at the same time.

“So fill her up?”

“Sure,” said Fisher. “And you probably already know, since you seem to know all about us, but it takes regular. Premium’s too rich for this old baby.”

“It is a pretty car.”

“Blue like your eyes.” Bendy then flirted, seeing an opening.

“You’re cute mister,” Tronesisia giggled, moving closer and pretend-pinching the fellow robot’s cheek. Bendy rubs it and grins.

“Gas, miss?” Fisher prompts, checking the sun.

—-

20 minutes later, Tronesisia had sold them on the idea of staying overnight at Old Martha Ball’s available shack at the eastern edge of Sister. Furthest away from the town’s vampiric activity, she claimed. Safely tucked away in a small wood on the other side the tracks, she furthered.

Boy was she telling a whopper.


Tronesisia driving Bendy and (especially) Fisher over to their possible doom.

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May 19, 2017 · 7:39 am

busting in

Using his universal pass-through, the littler vampire entered the house. “Buster Damm as I live and breathe, ha ha.” Pitch was use to his free comings and goings.

“Morning wine, Pitch?” Intervention Buster queried, looking at the bottle and full glass in front of him.

“Oh, this is just left over from last night,” Pitch explained. “You know how I am about cleaning up.”

“Who was the dame?” Jealous Buster asked with an edge, taking a seat opposite his bestest friend in the world. “Not that laconic bee woman again? I thought you two were Spitsville.”

“It’s Splitsville,” Pitch corrected. “But, no, it was Wheeler. You know, the lively one who bought the Key Store from Chuckles outside. Not a beaner. However she doesn’t own the shop any more. A wooden man bought it from her. Toys in VHC City, Buster. What’s next? Elves?”

“Hmm. What did you two guys talk about?” Had Jealous Buster skipped over a line? Didn’t matter. Pitch was a super duper pal and would play fair instead of foul if so.

Pitch hurled his morning spitball. “Sister.” He paused.

“Sister?” asked Stifled Buster back.

“Sister. Everything you see around you.” He waved his arm, indicating the house and its windows to the outer world. “There’s a place we should visit on the edge. Let’s call it that. The Edge. Won’t take long at all. A baseball field away at best.”

Nosey Buster had started scanning Pitch’s latest jottings, attempting to understand better. He reads aloud now. “‘The future fisher lives on the edge. Chuckles knows identity but won’t spill. Got that he owns a slavebot who is bent up inside. Coins. Squid and whale.'” Shaking his head, Thursty Buster reaches over and grasps Pitch’s glass of viscous wine, downing it in one take. “Let’s hit the trail,” he said, wiping his tiny mouth with his little black cape. No stain remained.

—–

“No one home, Buster,” Pitch says after calling. Curious Buster wouldn’t be denied. He deployed the universal pass-through again.

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May 19, 2017 · 6:43 am

dead and alive

But Summerhill Nova certainly had her own issues apart from all this new stuff. An estranged sister front and foremost. “Why did you have to go away?” she asked while staring over at her ghost in Eastside Park. They had played here often as children. Baseball was the game then. Dead ball era. She always took the role of pitcher Baby Ruth. Her sister was Butterfingers, an ironic name because she was best at catching. Always hanging around home.

Across the tracks, Pitch Darkly became lively again.

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