Category Archives: 0023

Black Ice

“I remember you, girl. From Paperville!”

“Right, right. The Little Cafe on the Way!” Both open their mouths further in surprise but never get to the heart of the oddity. Rabbit 02 in the corner of the fake flowery field worships on. Fertility. Much fertility.

“I remember you too, Birmingham.”

“Shut up Muff,” the fellow red fox hissed over. “I did what I had to do.”

“Yeah right, hmph.”

Rabbit 02 has a new husband. Rabbit M4, who lives just off the freeway. He usually stays over at Rabbit 02’s place because of the noise. He has a lot of patience and ironically he is a doctor too (optometrist), so more patients. When Rabbit 02’s family got together at Thanksgiving, he and Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer, Rabbit 02’s son from husband no. 3 — Rabbit 01 we’ve called him in this here blog — got along swimmingly, being fellow doctors (and swimmers) and all. Now in the last couple of weeks she’s had 3 more from M4: Uffcott, Hinton, and Winterbourne, because he was, since his birth came the first of December and the other two, slightly older triplets came out a little before midnight. They usually keep them over at the “highway house” with housekeeper Sarah because, again, of the noise. M4 is patient, but he needs a lot of quiet because of all the research he’s doing into creating a super eye capable of perpetual self healing — alien science we’re talking about here, top secret hush hush stuff. He can’t discuss it with anyone. All his friends and relatives think he’s just selfish separating himself from his children, not knowing he has very good reasons, very good indeed.

The wife finishes her worshiping and walks back over through the fake flowery field between the two girls who had turned their backs on each other, and between the two foxes who had also grown apart.

“I hear the town has a temple, dearest. I wonder if we could fit in a visit between your shops.”

“Maybe,” shot back Rabbit 02, irritated that he would ask. “Consignment store next door, or so that’s what the map says: Odds & Ends. I need to pick out some outfits for Christmas for the big ta-do at Ben the Parrot’s.”

“That foul mouth bird brain!” Rabbit M4 wanted to yell with his tongue at the top of his lungs but of course bit it. They should never have started selling those animal talkie toys, he laments.

They move next door. No consignment store there. Yet.

Instead: “Come here dear. There’s a man stuck in this picture!

Dear?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0401, Black Ice, NWES Island

“first name not needed”

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Filed under ***collages 2d, **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0317, 0400, 0401, Bellisaria, Bogota, Picturetown

Dewey 01

Okay so they were the same avatar at the core: Wheeler Wilson. This black haired Fern Stalin, this yellow or blonde haired Lichen Roosevelt, the ditzy one — the “Yellow Kid” — and then the red dooed Wendy, closer to Wheeler than any of the others in the moment because she was being read. It was a newspaper situation, then, black and white — well, yellow — and then the thing being scrutinized, the alien, the intruder onto their lands. One Wendy Wilson from Arkansaw, Kansas, they determined. Yellow journalism all around, because this was not as advertised. They made it into a way bigger deal than what it was, or at least Lichen did.

“Tell me more about this nephew Stumpy,” requested Fern later at the interrogation, 3rd of the day (Friday) and 15 minutes after she ate her last supper (chicken). She was ready to end it all. She hadn’t talked but she knew they would break her down. Pain wasn’t her ace in the hole. Instead: pleasure; hole in one. If the year 1898 gave us the first silent Oz movie (Star Wars Negative 10), then 1948 ended it all. “Tell me about TILE, about how you came about getting *here*. We’ve been here for almost 10 years. Why *now*?”

The pills manifested in her mouth, 1/2 red and 1/2 blue. Purple, then: dare she go through with it? Her sentence was almost over. And so on the 5th day (swallow) she…

—–

“We were so close, Lichen,” expressed Fern afterwards, staring at the bovine remains. “This explains a lot. I’m ready to start studying that manifesto with you in earnest. Let’s go to this Stumpy’s next meeting; tell him about his loss and what we saw.”

“As much as we can.”

“Right. And get Herbert to clean up all this mess.”

“Yes ma’am.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0316, HANA LEI, Voyageurs+

00230315

Carrcassonnee looked over at the spot she had just been. Sepisexton she was now, both the 7 and the 6. It was time to move on from the great olive being and the great olive body. It just wasn’t working. Not right now anyway. Syd was a way out. And TILE.

She walks away from the new spot into the future.

—–

“Hey Roosevelt. Remember when we use to be black and yellow clowns over in NWES City? Funny times. That’s where you started your stand up comedy isn’t it.”

“No.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0315, Apple's Orchard, Black Ice, NWES Island

jarred

“She came through the cake portal off the Southwest Corridor.”

“I know where the cake portal is,” black haired Fern Stalin reprimanded the more mentally challenged Lichen Roosevelt, a classic ditzy blonde. “What have you found so far?” Understandably, and good to know, Lichen was a subordinate to Fern, which is why she got first shot at an analysis before the bigger gun moved in. Fern’s mind could turn into a fiery, raging bazooka if needed.

“We know she’s not fully human, maybe as little as half human. As you can see, there’s a pink-ish tone to her skin, and I’m not talking about flesh colored pink but pink pink, as in ‘Some Like It Hot’ pink.”

“Looks pretty cool to me,” Fern stated, eyeballing the being and not sensing a Marilyn Monroe type situation. This *red* could turn out to be pretty smart, like herself. That old saying, black and red good in bed, spontaneously sprang to mind. But yellow’s a different fellow, some tacked on. Like herself. “What else?”

“She’s got scars on her face, perhaps from an operation. Oh, she’s got 4 stomachs. Like a cow!”

“She *doesn’t*.” Fern let her guard down in the surrealness of the moment.

“Just kidding.”

Fern frowned but was proud of Lichen for the joke, since they had been talking about the TILE Manifesto and the line, “And so on the 5th day he cowed”, just this morning at the commissary kitchen — good setup. Maybe her intelligence shows up more in humor. Didn’t she use to do stand up comedy down at the Toasty Toad? Or was it Tasty? She could check later on the interwebs. Maybe that was Pete Perk over at marketing, come to think of it. Lichen was just dating him, just tagging along. And something happened to Pete, yes, and she had to take the stage. He choked on a toad? No, that can’t be it. He choked *at* the Toad. Got stage fright. Lichen filled in. I remember, yeah, she was pretty good, pretty tasty. Something else… ahh, back to the task at hand. The intruding alien. But what if this really *does* have something to do with TILE.

“Let’s get back to the face marks. What size were they and what part of the face were they on? Could be a disguise, like Eddy the Phosphorescent Leech over in Zilchboro. Did you check the scars? Did you measure their width, length, angle, and depth?” Fern knew Lichen in all likelihood didn’t do this. She had the upper hand again as usual.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0314, HANA LEI, Voyageurs+

Yes I’m Cake

“What is it, Twin Wendy?”

“A doorway.”

Pause. “What doorway?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0313, HANA LEI, Voyageurs+

Sepisexton

“DONT.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0312, Apple's Orchard, Black Ice, NWES Island

Flock and Feather

“According to my list, you’ve been very naughty this year, Mrs. Claus, very naughty indeed! I don’t know *how* you could have received any kind of present, ho ho ho.”

Mrs. Claus shook the package. Sounded like a belt. Joy!

—–

At the counter in front of the Santa’s Village dollhouses, Jane noticed the absence in Baker’s eyes; figured he was looking around the place again, creating more counterfeit stories. “One question, bub,” she decides to insert. Baker’s eyes became unglazed, focused into hers. “Who’s the Princess of this here fair land? You better say the right one. Or: out on your keister!”

Baker figured he’d be out on his keister soon enough. He wanted a couple of answers beforehand. An attempt. “Yes, of course Selena is the Princess.” Jane’s wild look in her eyes tamed down. He leaned forward a bit. “Hey, I heard you had some kind of Tragically Hip tribute concert in here the other week. I’m not a fan fan, but I always liked that one song of theirs quite a lot; quite haunting.” He decides to say the wrong name for fun. “‘Lions, Tigers, and Bears,’ I think it is called. Or maybe I’m thinking…”

“You’re thinking of the Oz movie,” said Jane sternly, noting the clock on the wall. 15 minutes till closing. Home to the cats again after that, maybe a call from Herman Fisher. The big lug. “Try again.”

“Um, ‘Lions, Tigers, *or* Bears’?”

“For God’s sake, it’s ‘Tiger the Lion,’ just the bestest song ever invented. John Cage would agree!”

“Yes, I recall now.” All art is meaningless. Real Life is the only true art.

“Sooo… you *seem* to have woken up now. Are you *woke*?”

It all depended on Murdoch’s Castle, Baker realized, but he couldn’t ask about it. Not yet. He paid for his drink and left, allowing Jane to start closing up early. Good move. There will be other nights.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0311, Rose Heaven-

00230310

Besides the addition of the Thornwood sim, not much seems to have changed in Rosehaven since my brief residency there last winter. I left because of a seeming misunderstanding. I had overlaid a mythology on top of one already in place. My princess wasn’t their princess, who I talked to a bit. My queendom-kingdom wasn’t theirs. Merry Gouldbusk (my princess) doesn’t wish to return now and is resigned to remain with Sandy and perhaps other lovers in NWES City and NWES Island as a whole. She might be the same as All Orange but it is difficult to tell — certainly she is gold or amber in skin tone and that’s pretty comparable in color and may be close enough. What of Breeze and Wendy, who also hang around Sandy: collectively, the “Breezy” archetype? Merry Gouldbusk seems also to be the same as them — maybe. And what about her donning that red, MAGA-style cap before the election results were finalized and that side lost (yes, they lost: congratulations Joe!)? When we saw her wearing it she was heading across town to Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer’s Red Rose building, which he rents from Peet Aries, who is similar but also different from Peet Archer, a new-ish character in this here blog and photo-novel, 23 in a series of 20. But we know similarly red capped Barry DeBoy, the abstract artist featured in photo-novel 22, also resides or at least use to reside in this building as invited by Baumbeer. He saved the town with his art created there, specifically through a design called CITY, a combination of triangles and squares to tile a picture without internal gaps. TIGER may be another word for it but, again, unsure; we are not privy to the details of the saving so far. But my point here is that Merry Gouldbusk, in the moment, may have also been the same as Barry Deboy through that cap. We’ve only seen him once in the current novel, and in a different location more on the east side of town than before — across the highway, but not in Meat City, although (that suburb) is across the road from the main part of town as well. Sorry: *city*. As usual, we are dealing with many mysteries at once, and with blurring of plot lines and involved characters. The city and overarching island is a labyrinth to be solved, if not a maze. Let’s go with labyrinth, because mazes are designed to confuse and labyrinths aren’t — one path in and one path out for the latter. And we have our center now: All Orange. We just don’t exactly know its nature yet. Aldebaronian? Powerful witch Mid-Hazel thinks so. She also wrongly thinks All Orange is dead now. She believes Rosehaven, which she’s changed to Rose Haven to hide it from the locals, is up for grabs. Her assistant cat-witch Esmerelda is not as certain. She thinks it could be a plant.


“That was a nice song, I think I’ll write another now.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0310, NWES Island, Rose Heaven-

coming up roses

“Where does it say we are?”

Cat-witch Esmerelda searches some more. “Rosehaven.”

“Rose *Heaven*?” Mid-Hazel responds, perhaps in jest.

“Haven. Like a place of rest.”

“Rose Haven, then. Is that two words?”

“One. Rosehaven,” she says quicker.

“We’ll make it two to separate it from the locals. Won’t know where to look for it when we make our reports.”

Esmerelda the cat-witch stopped typing. “Shouldn’t we ask them first?” She looked around the face but not directly into those always scary, dead white eyes of hers. Never the eyes, or not for very long anyways. She could still feel them boring into her like steely beams of hate.

“I do not wish to confront the ruler of this land to ask that question. Unless you have other suggestions.” Mid-Hazel didn’t want suggestions. She wanted obedience. Esmerelda shook her head. “No ma’am. No suggestions. No *more*.”

Mid-Hazel then nodded, pleased in the moment. She looked out the window at the freshly fallen snow. She could hide here for a while; make this a hideaway until the hubbub about the Bellisaria murders calmed down. The bodies kept heaping up as she looked around and saw more enter the room where she just committed the first. Did Jenny Lind plan to have a *party* tonight? she asked as she stabbed some more. It was a rhetorical question. Obviously she did in some manner. 1-2-3-4, then the 5th to top it off. All Orange that one was. Mid-Hazel figured Aldebaran as a home planet. Aliens in Our Second Lyfe. She’d heard of such things, of course, but never this close up. And orange blood as well: hard to tell where the wound stopped and the person began; All Orange indeed. She carted them out to the garden for burial, not knowing the gardener was due the next day to reseed the roses. Soon enough, the top of an orange finger stuck out of the ground. Aldebaronians were extremely hard to kill, and had the ability to heal themselves to a remarkable degree. Mid-Hazel didn’t know that fact. The finger clawed and clawed and got another orange finger free, then the 2 worked in concert to free another, and then the 3 another, and then the 4 another, the 5th. All Orange had emerged. The hapless gardener took her place in the makeshift grave. All Orange was a killer as well. She had faked her own death to get revenge.

“Rose Heaven?” she asked her typing assistant later at a different but not dissimilar location, another witch hideout.

“Haven,” the assistant responded. Perfect.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0309, Bellisaria, Pickle 01, Rose Heaven-