“You’re not red and blue any more, Brend. You’re white.”
“Just like you,” he acknowledged. “We work in tandem. Together.”
“I… don’t think we made it…”
“… past the creatures, yeah. Critters,” he redefined.
“Yet. Here we are.”
“Thought to be Critter Sea,” he returned. “But instead: Crisp. Crisp Sea.”
“Crisp… Sea,” she repeated, more crisply on the Crisp.
“But we definitely didn’t make it.”
“Nah,” she followed quickly and moved into position 06 in the sequence, unable to look at it any longer.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0030, 0407, Crisp Sea, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Wild West
This boat has nowhere to go. It’s landlocked.
Hidi is both red and blue at once.
She is not alone.
Later they travel by a different boat and head to the open sea.
Here be Creatures….
Made it?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0030, 0406, Crisp Sea, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Wild West
—–
“We must change your name from Axis-Windmill,” she spoke from the side, also observing. But me in this case. A 10 now instead of a 9. Good. We return to Squared Root City, she urged. No need to invoke karma in this place again. No need to even mention the name again. The Princess has spoken.
—–
So I go to another 23 23 — but not w/ a 3rd 23 — in a very different sim, but it’s the wrong time (again). Let’s take W.’s suggestion…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0030, 0405, Heterocera, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Rose Heaven^^, Rubi^, Squared Root City
Announcer: “Ono’s Octopus Balls…
… an avalanche of flavor!”
—–
“It’s great!” said character-husband John Lemon, glad to get back on the horse.
“Love the hand coming out from under a rock effect,” octopus ball recipe inventor extraordinaire Yoka Ono added.
“We’ll put it on after the 9 o’clock news,” said the network big wig behind them, not needing to look and instead studying his hand for warts. He could hear the success. “Test it out on the non-magical people first.”
“Fantastic.” John envisioned the money rolling in like batter covered spheres.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0030, 0404, ENIGMA, Nautilus, Paper Soap, Soap, Wild West
“Long night again, Joey?”
“Ahh yes, I *need* this.” The kangaroo has spoken.
He kept looking toward the window beside the door at me instead of the action in the ring. In the ring.
“New around here?” asked Lichen Roosevelt, tending bar in this here town until her big break as a singer comes, national anthems being her specialty.
Axis-Windmill kind of looks toward her, kind of doesn’t. “We’ve met many times before, Marilyn,” he deadpans.
Marilyn? she thinks. Hadn’t heard *that* name in a long time. “Well… can’t recall. Many, huh?” She keeps wiping the wine glass in her hand, although it’s perfectly transparent now. She looks through it at him, watching his distorted steely eyes move here and there, sometimes toward the door, sometimes at her, sometimes in-between. But not at the action. Another lift, another slam to the canvas for Joey. Poor Joey Avatar. Looks like a rain of pain coming tonight. How did *she* get into this mess?
“That’s right,” he finally answered Lichen. He walks toward the door. He opens the door, telling me to come in and join him. He indicates the tables to his right. We sit down, no words between us. We watch Lichen tend bar. The action in the ring (in the ring) wraps up. Victor Eugenia O’Neill moves toward the bar, decided what kind of drink to order for Joey to make up for breaking a couple of her nails tonight. Usually: so gentle, so careful. Must have been the full moon, she reckons. Grasshopper should do it, extra mint.
Standing on the edge of the ring, Venusian Joey Avatar wonders what she’s gotten herself into.
She prayed before the interview in her new dress. She knew if the backing stained glass windows depicting some kind of holy scenario behind the cross were truly transparent she could see Star Rd. just behind the church, and then perhaps even Starlight just around the bend, on Packer St. she believed (it was Nemo Av.). Not Star Rd., though. Queer, she thought, but then tried to focus. “Lord,” she said just beyond a whisper, trying to not take his name in Vain for a change, “give me the strength to do well in the interview, the courage to show who I really am, fiery passion burning deep within.” They’ll have to put me out by taking me in, she inserts mentally, trying to frame the situation in a correct manner.
Something happened then and there — a miracle perhaps, but from which direction to be determined. At any rate, the police had to be called in, newly appointed officer Molly Jackson first on the scene, since her interview had been in the morning. “Wha – what happened to the *church*?” she asked in still praying Elisa’s direction. Only the stained glass remained. It was a depiction of the Lord’s crucifixion and ultimate sacrifice. Elisa needed to learn this — and Molly too. The In-Between.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0030, 0316, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Squared Root City
She was in Between and she had to stare at it. The chair would face no other way. Turtle Hill, or, in olden days, Turtle Butte. Before the terraforming messed up the mesa effect and made it round and soft instead of square and rough. The center of the Maebaleia continent, some say, yea, some call it the center of *everything*, with religious overtones implied. And perhaps it was. In olden days again. Nowadays these Hills of Bill are emptied out of meaning, devoid of framework, like a void picture in a gallery of no design or wealth.
She sat reading a fashion and furniture magazine in her new-ish apartment in Squared Root City, waiting for Starlight to open so she could peruse the clothing again for that interview over at the fire station this afternoon. Because she considered herself to be one hot item and had to be put out. You keep your friends close, like Molly Jackson here, also a town newcomer (dancer), but you keep your enemies even closer, like the fire department. Soon everyone would know her burning desire for stardom. She would set the night sky ablaze with rockets’ red glare.
Molly had designs on wealth and stardom herself, but not with a fiery dress; instead: cool and calm and collected. She would bide her time in the shadows of the police station and attached department, blue replacing red. She would dance to the tunes of white Guy Lombardo but only after midnight and on the dark side of the moon. The situation seemed to call for it. She got up off the couch formerly shared with red garbed Elisa and moves to the window to stare out between the two stars just below toward both departments, considering balance.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0030, 0315, Hills of Bill^, Lower Austra^, Maebaleia/Satori, Nautilus, Squared Root City
Ah yes, much better match. Even if she did wear an ill fitting mask. He’d give her a lecture later on, after they knew each other a little better. Ah, heck. He’ll do it now. It’s the holiday season after all. She’s trying. She won’t be offended, he figures.
“Phyllis?” he starts.
“Berta, actually. Remember? Phyllis is my twin sister.”
Shoot. Wrong holiday girl after all. Back to the drawing board.
“It’s okay,” she says to the obviously downcast Chet. “We’re really clones, you know,” she confesses. “Basically one and the same. We just use the sister story to throw the police off the track of…” She hesitates. She doesn’t know him well enough to talk about Dr. Mouse yet. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe never.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0030, 0314, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Squared Root City
Sunklands 