He stared down at her place, trying to take in what he’d just heard. The Void wants to negotiate a price, she said — or hissed.
—–
Shelley was touching up his shape again when they heard it coming out of the tunnel. A bike, but a real one this time, a chopper they call them up in the real world I believe. Aztec Warrior? We’ll see.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0313, HANA LEI, Sand Springs
How appropriate, he thinks. A big purple cube-like thingy has manifest just outside my front door since I lasted visited, sign of The Void of course.
Anyway (he turns), this is the last of my stuff, Nautilus continent home cleaned out. Couldn’t afford it, you see, with the upcoming court battle looming and paying for legal fees, etc. But I know who my real foe is now.
It seems like yesterday I was standing on the back porch with Shelley, inviting her to my sand paradise sim. She came to the party with Edward, who was somewhere just below with the rest of the still raucous crowd, even at half past 1. She explained, fairly early on actually, that her husband was away and he didn’t mind Edward taking care of her in his absence — trusted him just as much as he trusted someone named Keith who was a kind of surrogate father to her, I gathered. Also revealed that she was a writer, which interested me greatly. I happened to be a friend of a friend of one of the upper echelon of Lonelyhearts Publishers over on the *Omega* continent — caught her with a lie on that: she claimed Corsica Prime for the location, where her husband was, actually (she then admitted), looking for roles as big as his ambition and ego, she stated. I’d even heard about one or two of her books, although I couldn’t remember her attached nom de plume. “Jennifer,” she said. “Jennifer Lane.”
He turns back from the memory, red handtruck and hauling the final boxes down to the boat in his mind now. 1st pre-hearing at 7:45 tomorrow morning; gotta give about an hour for prep on that as well. He’ll have to do with around 2 hours sleep, he figures. He can catch up with the dreaming this weekend. Information, pure information. When he can interpret it, pheh. Like last night with the avocado.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0312, HANA LEI, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Sand Springs, Wild West
Thumbs in his pockets to make him look cool (for no one), Sandman contemplates his next move.
Bank sounds good. Not a sand bank like he’s standing in but a bank bank. Just over there, Kera being its name. He needs some money to fund his defense. Because he will get sued over this. Might as well dress him like a man in black for preparation. Reno.
—–
“Reno,” he says to the teller of the day, who then gives him $499,000. Because if he had said that other prominent Nevada city he knew it would break him, his town, his sim. Sinsity — Middletown. It was coming. And he was just being dragged along in its wake like everyone else he knew and loved and cherished.
Pockets filled — he couldn’t even stick his thumbs in them any more — he gave now upfront Vanilla a kiss to say both thank you and goodbye and went his way. This was standard procedure these days, more Middletown meddling. What would the price be even next week?
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0311, HANA LEI, Nevada, Sand Springs
So many books. But so dusty. I’ll just do a little cleaning while I’m here then get down to some serious reading.
But she ended up having a serious discussion with a local on the subject of sand, quartz to be specific, the value of such for scrying to pinpoint. At one point she asked how he knew so much about it, and he turned away, disappointed. He thought they were talking friend to friend…
… but then realized it was very dark that night — no moon — and the party below was quite loud so that would explain why she didn’t pick up on the voice, which was quite distinctive and, let’s say, smoky. Like quartz itself. “Let’s put it that I understand the present,” he decided to say. “Presents actually.”
“Like Santa?” she attempted to joke. Soo close. He revealed himself.
—–
“You’ll never *guess* who I just met up at the library.”
Arthur didn’t want to guess. He wanted answers. He had been reading if Shelley hadn’t. Novel 5. What is a cheese being? he kept asking over and over until it dawned on him like a truth sun over the horizon. Or moon, hmm. He reversed course and drove toward it instead. He decided he didn’t want answers. It’s just cheese, he said to himself. Don’t overreact.
“Who?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0310, HANA LEI, Sand Springs
After 36 successful romance novels about Edward and a lot of others, she was rolling in cash; could literally make herself an angel in the floor with it. But she was no angel. Demon instead — she knew this deep down in her heart, despite what surrogate father Keith B. told her back at the beginning of section 01. She’d sold her soul; ground angel she was in the end. Worthless.
—–
After waking up and reviewing the dream, she decided there was only one thing to do. Tell Arthur about Edward. No, not the *actual* truth. The reality in the novel, 5th in a series. If she did, maybe she could nip what was coming — blooming — in the future in the bud. She had to pull a Barney Fife.
“There’s someone out there in the dunes — do you see it, Arthur?”
“Mirage,” he waved it off. “I’ve seen it too. Then it disappears if you stare at it enough.”
Sure enough, Shelley watches the illusion fade to wavery nothingness. She turns, tired of facing the huge mountains of sand. She’s in the present. Arthur turns with her.
“We haven’t been to that island over there.”
“No. But I sensed you have a point to make. You hardly touched your dinner.”
“You know I don’t like vegetables.”
“Not the point.” He sighs. Sandman, he thinks. Must ask about Sandman.
“I—” Pause.
“Yess?”
“I… write.”
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0309, HANA LEI, Sand Springs
“Oh I want *something*.” They’d walked right past the haircut place without speaking. Arthur knew better now. And the tattoo parlor didn’t offer a temptation any longer. That was yesterday’s story — sorry; forgot to record. So today — tonight — was the next store up, but nothing seemed to be for sale; all a jumble.
*This*,” she decided despite the seeming lack of ability to purchase, which Arthur then pointed out again. “This,” she reinforced. “We can find the original creator. Not your bitch,” she read. “Not yet.” The neon cat in the moon seemed to be staring at it too, convincing her. She just had a dream about one.
“How about the fingers making the heart over there,” Arthur tested.
“Nah. Lame. *Gushy*.”
“Hmm.” He’d been uttering that a lot during their, was it a vacation? I guess it had to be. Or a second honeymoon after renewing their wedding vows. Edward might clarify. If we could find him.
“Ahh, got it,” she then said after checking. “All this stuff is by the same creator.”
“Hmm.”
“Just stop it. We’ll have to come back when it’s set up.”
“Just what I was thinking.”
“Next store up?”
He looked at his watch. “Not until tomorrow.”
“Oh *phooey*.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0308, HANA LEI, Sand Springs
He watches from afar, noting that she may have Winona Ryder eye. Didn’t she just visit a local hair stylist several days before? He knows she did, although not with the results she wanted. The results *they* wanted? It was a question he had to be asking at this juncture in our story.
—–
Back up to “normalcy”.
—–
“Where you been?”
“Oh just riding around the sand.”
“Hmm.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0307, HANA LEI, Sand Springs
“What are you guys fretting about? The fire? Did something burn down here?” Then she realized, in her intuitive way, that *they* burned something. Evidence, she gathered. What were these cactus fitted military birds on the edge of Lower Austra on about? Japanese, she understood. If only she’d remembered to bring her translator. Maybe next time, cause there can be. Unlike for Baker Bloch Keith B., who is, for some reason, banned from the premises. He got too close to the truth, she thought. They wanted me to see instead.
“So you *are* her,” she suddenly understood, tuning into the language. Took some time but she’s there. They think I’m someone else, she gathers. But I’m *me* — always.
I don’t think I like this pose but it’s all about balance, I then additionally gather. Someone else was good at that. “We welcome you (back),” she also translated. But it was only this bird; what about the others?
They’re burning something else now; a ritual.
A golden girl arrives, one that will lead them into the next millennium of great change and turmoil and, ultimately, complete harmony of opposites through love.
“That golden girl,” says the one, ” is you.”
Shelley wakes up.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0306, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Wild West
—–
Well I can certainly see why he’s called the Sandman, she thought. Better find Arthur, I mean, ahem, *Lemont*, down at the beach. But first… hair.
—–
“Oh I don’t want it cut,” she spoke upward to the dark, animalistic face hovering over her. “Just washed. I can’t cut my hair. My husband would be so disapproving (!).”
“That’ll be 55 dollars either way,” hissed the stylist. They didn’t click, she knew. Best to cut ties early before more energy drain. She can find another stylist later on. Anyway, Arthur *would* be happy. “Don’t change a thing,” he often speaks about her appearance, always making her cringe inside a bit. He wants stasis; she wants change. Yet he kind of controls her, she admits. She’s aiming to change that. The stylist must be more of his working.
“Credit it to the house,” she said when leaving, which caused even a bit more confusion.
——
“Why don’t you get out of that duck outfit and put on that cute, black bathing suit I bought you a while back.” Or was it purple? he thinks to himself, not being able to clearly picture it in rehearsal for some reason. Dark, anyway, he resolves the issue for now.
“Ohh… you know how easily I burn. I’ll keep these on.” She settles back into her chair, pats her hands on her covered knees to reinforce her staying put point. Eating away at the control. One nibble at a time.
Arthur settles back too, resigned to their current attire. “Soo. Tell me more about this Sandman.”
“Oh he’s rich.”
“Yeah, I gathered.” He looks around. Sand everywhere… at every level. Desert oasis he has here. An oasis from… Second Lyfe.
“We met through Edward. At that party his friends threw. One of those nights you were away. How’s the quest to find the ultimate Shakespearian role going by the by?” She hadn’t asked before on purpose. Arthur trusted Edward, she knew. As much as he trusted Keith with her. They were wedded in his mind. But Edward was certainly different from Keith, despite the friendly neighbor persona. Edward had designs. And she was stringing him along. All for the art mind you, she thought. The newest romance novel. I want to make the 5th different from the 4th which is different from the 3rd, etc., improvements and refinements all along. Edward is my sculpture, my newest muse even. I’m still married to Arthur certainly, she keeps pondering. No change there, whatever happens.
It was here she remembers she was married to Lemont. Not Arthur. He stares over at her, waiting for her next lines. Control.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0305, HANA LEI, Nautilus, NORTH, Sand Springs, Wild West
Keith let me borrow his beach bungalow while he was out traveling (he said). I caught up with my reading more than my TV watching, since his set was shite — something out of the 50s, or 60s at best. Black and white, even. I could watch reruns of “I Luv Lucifer” or “Gulliver’s Island” (at best), or finish off my stack of romance novels with Satan sometimes at the center of the plotline. Here I am seen choosing the latter; self portrait of course, because I came alone, Lemont still looking for roles on the Omega continent Shakespearian in scope and depth. Good luck! I’ve even started my own novel, or I should say, my 5th novel, the other 4 already published under a pen name by Lonelyhearts Press up in Corsica Prime. I haven’t quite got up the nerve to tell my rather straight laced hubbie about those; kind of r rated and with lots of lovers on the side. This one is projected to start with an innocent enough letter from an imaginary boyfriend and perhaps wannabe husband. ‘Nother one. What is this attraction to the opposite sex I have? Or, better, their attraction to me? I have a Venus in Cancer and a Mars in Leo but that only answers part of it. I must protect myself — that’s what Keith said just before he handed over the keys to the place. “Find yourself here,” he said, boat already warming up at the dock. “Get away from all influences. I’ll give you some spending money.”
“I don’t *need* any spending money,” I protested. “It’s not like Lemont and I have gotten a divorce or anything.”
“Sure you haven’t,” Keith said, and patted my knee, making me wonder. When *is* Lemont coming back? “Edward is right next door if you need anything,” he added while walking off and leaving a couple of hundreds on the table up front. And that’s how we met. He really liked the letter; said it sounded exactly like something he’d penned. I was so pleased that… well, I’ll save it for later in the novel.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0304, Crisp Sea, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Wild West
Sunklands 