Chroma was the last to emerge. Gregg, but without the extra “g.” The old Lapara question “Who’s ‘G’?” may have been answered.
Category Archives: Heterocera
“Bucket of nails,” requests Wilson to Terry. “And make it bloody.”
“Ahem,” intercedes Baker Bloch. “Not open yet, Wilson. Sorry.”
“Yeah, sorry,” echoes Terry. He tries to size up his new potential customer, but can’t quite make out what’s the deal-i-o. Baker helps.
“So you’re a man again,” he states to Wilson.
“Yeah. A pretty man. Let me show you. You haven’t seen yet.”
“Just a glimpse at the police station. How’s Burt the Cop doing?”
“Brutus?” replies Wilson. “Prostitute problems as usual. Gastons’s filled with them, even choking on them. Berries. Cherry, Raspberry, Blueberry. Lemon. Yes, Berry is fully intertwined with Gaston. You knew Lemon on Mars didn’t you?”
“I did,” states Baker, thinking back fondly to his stay in futuristic INSCO. “Have you seen her? She ran around with Sugar then, but wasn’t a prostitute (like her) at the time. Circumstances must have changed. Science is getting tough to swallow for many.”
“I’m not sure she’s really a whore there,” says Wilson. “She could be undercover. Brutus hinted at so much. Purple Gang. Burt Lake Band. Crooked.”
“Oden, then,” responds Baker.
“Yeah. Have you seen him?”
“Maybe a glimpse as well at Morrison. Rockabilly Cafe. But we’re done filming there.” He pauses. “And you haven’t shown me the new face yet.”
“That’s way too pretty, man,” Baker offers. “For a man. How about a scar? What do you think Terry?”
“Terry. I’m glad you’re here already.”
“Yup. Mr. R. sent me ahead to set up the place, make sure all the correct drinks are loaded up, (and) so on. We’re playing cards later tonight. On the clock, of course.”
“Of course,” Baker Bloch responds.
“Sorry we don’t quite have our license nailed down in Minoa yet,” the green fire-ickle states.
“Perfectly all right. Just checking to see how things were going.”
“Mr. R. should be here by the end of the month, first of next month at the latest, Mr. Bloch.”
“Mr. Baker. Mr. B.” Terry emits that cool clicking sound with his mouth again and points. Baker is a bit smitten himself. Such a groovy dude.
“Norum,” Wilson Wheeler says. “This is the place.”
“And there is the man.”
Looks like some big ta’doin’s going on at Chelsea for the Halloween season, but Baker feels it’s not his place to go down and investigate. He’s for all practical purposes banned from the Sister sim of VHC City, if not physically then psychologically and philosophically, he feels. He allied himself with alter-ego and ancient town vampire Pitch Darkly and is now suffering the consequences. Fellow former VHC City vampire Buster Damm cannot return either, but has less of a desire to do so. Pitch wants to come back; enjoy the alternate reality where his “Pitch Black” property was not absorbed by the Finely Torn Id and he still has a central place in town and can pick the brain and borrow the ear of Chelsea leader Sikul Himakt about developments in those directions (psychological/ philosophical). But it’s not going to happen. The Diagonal has power still, yes. Rubi and Sister are still definitely sister sims, united by the triple numbers 97/97/97 in past/present/future. All’s Baker and me can do is focus on what we have, what we know. 97/97/97 is no longer present in VHC City. If it *would* return, if the power of the triple numbers and the attached Diagonal were known, then a link could return. But there’s always fiction for it. 🙂
Woody may have discovered or remembered an important detail related to this. Let’s have Baker Bloch tonight quickly change into that character instead of Pitch or something else…
… and send him over to the very center of the Purden sim, with the “show interface” option checked off on the snapshot.
Sentient tree Core-Alena should be here, true, but it’s only Woody tonight. He ponders on the absence, and then notices that he’s at 128/128/127, very close to the theoretical lone triple number of the sim. Or are there maybe even other triple numbers here? It’s worth a check… lemme turn on the sun and have Woody walk around and I’ll get back to ya’ll on this.
First off, Baker-as-Woody finds it more difficult to walk The Diagonal in Purden than Rubi because all the *trees* seem to be exactly the same. In this way, Purden, although containing many more trees than Rubi overall (I think I estimated about 5 times the amount at one time), is a simpler, perhaps more primitive sim. Core-Alena stands out from all this same-ness more than kindred walky talky tree Unch does in his own Linden woods. Back to Woody’s walk…
Okay, Woody can definitely stand at coordinates 127/127/127, and my guess is that this may be the true triple number of the sim. But so close to the center that it’s most likely a practical equivalent. Or centre, as Woody likes to spell it for a reason. He’s thinking of psychologist/philosopher
Phillip Jeffries Jeffrie Phillips right now.
He’s heading uphill for a little bit beyond this. Definitely possibilities for another triple number, maybe even several…
But in subsequently walking up to the crest, Woody realizes that’s it’s simply not high enough, and that another triple number wouldn’t be reached in the sim. He gives Purden up for the night and teleports over to Jaffee instead, right on the edge but not within the Purden forest. This is the place where he once lived in an a-frame, as chronicled in “Collagesity 2016-2017 Winter” (Part 6). But now we have two places named “Still” there instead. They’re even marked on the inworld map…
Strange. The word “Still” has now been erased in Jaffee (!). It was just there the other night when Woody joined the rest of the Blackstars at a rehearsal in “Still Dead”. But there is — or *were* — two “Stills”, as mentioned, with “Still Alive” joining “Still Dead” to make a logical yin-yang sky box tandem.
Hmm, a new house on his old land. And this Blackbook person perhaps within, the owner of “Still Dead” Woody talked to just about a week back. He doesn’t desire avatar interaction tonight, however, and decides to teleport elsewhere. Home will do presently. Collagesity, yes. This is indeed home now. And right on the western edge of another, parallel woods. Perfect for him.
Good thing Woody didn’t use remote viewing while there to look within. Bert the Semi-Nudist! (his old love)
“You’re back Clyde.”
“Yes, Richard,” answers the pink lady-elephant. “But it’s Bonnie.”
“Where’s Gregg?” asks Richard.
“You mean Stan? He said he was on his way. What are you guys up to tonight?”
“Nothing. Heard you got a new band Clyde.”
Bonnie shakes her head. “*Howard* has a new band. That’s my twin brother. They call themselves Leona, yes. Just rehearsing so far, I’ve heard.”
“Blackstars,” says Ziffie the smaller pink elephant on the bar stool to Richard’s left.
“What was that?” Richard asks down to him.
“The name of the band,” Ziffie explains, “is now Blackstars. I think it’s a David Bowie tribute band, but Garson sued and put them in their place.”
“Who’s Garson?” asked the man in the scary rabbit costume.
“Former Bowie keyboardist. ‘Alladin Sane’, ‘Outside’… list goes on.”
“But mainly ‘Alladin Sane’,” pipes up Ziffie again.
“Yes,” agrees Bonnie. “More the (title) song and not the album.”
“Improvisor,” inserts Ziffie.
“Right you are, cousin. Three time’s the charm.”
Stan comes strolling into the cafe.
“What’s up homies?”
“Blackstars,” says Bonnie.
“Blackstars,” Ziffie quickly follows.
Bonnie and Ziffie stare at Richard, pressuring him. He relents. “Hmmm. Blackstars I suppose.”
“Cool. Let’s you and me, Richard, go see the new crop of dead people over at Pervimus’ Gathering Bar.”
Instead of answering, Richard goes up and smells Stan. “That a new perfume, honey?”
Rocky closes up the market and bar tonight and steps outside to look in the direction of the Wanderlust Art Truck. It’s received quite good press in various blogs and other social media outlets,* and the raccoon is certainly glad of the extra business his store has gotten as a result.
He’s saving up quite the nest egg. But as the old saying goes, winter is coming, and the tourists will trickle down and eventually go away as the snow lays thick on the streets of Olde Lapara Towne. He’s frankly tired of cold winters. Peter, Paul and Mary — I mean, Lamb — were smart to retreat down into the much more temperature regulated underground and create Malone Central, he thinks. But that’s disappeared too apparently, as everyone has gone through the sand dunes/sand castle portal into this mythical land of Hana Lei. He thinks here of a particular collage in Baker Bloch’s small art gallery upstairs featuring David Bowie.
Rocky decides to go back into the store to check again, just to make sure. He passes through the phantom red door into Audrey’s and takes the old timely teleporter to Grasslands. He always seems to bring his gun with him when comes down here lately.
Yes, he remembers now. The last remaining, actual grass of Grasslands, along with the sand dunes portal, had to go away to make prim room for the upstairs art gallery. And local punk band Story Room lost their remaining OLT venue since the theatre space formerly there was also eradicated, and this just after they were banned from playing at Clownski’s after a new noise ordinance was passed by the town council. Our two local bands, lost in a single stroke, he ponders. Rocky thinks of another old saying: Lamb dies with Ram. Baker Bloch tried to prevent it from happening by moving the future focus back into the here and now of the present. Yes, Rocky has his market, has a bar, has a small gallery even. Things are good in October. But even November can get snowy, and the anthropomorphic animal longs to see Santa Claus without Jack Frost always tagging along and nipping at his nose.
He’s not even going to think about how his new novel is coming, and the lack of sales for the old one. Because it’s target practice time once again!
* See, for example, several of my friend Veyot’s recent posts from her “Veyot’s Views” tumblr site (tag = Lapara):
Earie (The Musician) realized there were still many mysteries to be resolved concerning VHC City — like the relationship of this Sipvicious logo found in the Quincey Educational Building and the famous punk Sid Vicious who stayed in the town’s grand Hotel Chelsea. Chroma and Improvio, being rooted in a basal nature still, desired to visit the infamous Room 100 where Sid killed Nancy. The All Nancy’s ghost found in the Grand Lapara Hotel more recently is mere reflection of this tragic event, they’ve determined. The Grand Lapara Hotel itself, they say, is a reflection of Hotel Chelsea, in that both are modeled after real life New York City hotels. Earie, who has evolved beyond them now, he feels, thinks otherwise. But his main concern right now is not VHC City nor Olde Lapara Town. It’s Gaston-Berry, and finding Jacob I. and attempting to get him to explain what the heck is happening to him currently. Chroma and Improvio made up like hookers? Red and blue lensed glasses? The Lei sisters? It’s a head scratcher, he realizes while scratching his head. So it’s back to the Yellow House to prepare for a downtown visit.
But first, he must dress more appropriately for the location. Some purchases at historical Blackburns Store in Alabama or Georgia aid him.
Did he go too far with the blue eye? Yes, he determined. He did. A bit too alien, and the new landlord specified in her short rental note: NO aliens.
Eat your heart out Improvio, you old skunk.