It was time to stop monkeying around. There were lands to explore, places to visit. I *may* be moving away from Aisle of Palms this month but still not sure. If my rent wasn’t so darn cheap, ha…
Nevertheless, I have a new area of interest on the Jeogeot continent: its largest inland sea with an interesting little town to its northeast called Juho (where Trevor/Philip is pictured playing around above) and another large region to explore to its east — directly se of Juho — named Scire Gaea Park, an older and more established set of linked parcels. And that’s just what I’ve found so far.
Most importantly for Trevor/Philip in the moment, this inland sea doesn’t *stink* like the one he lives near up there in Grand Theft Auto V called Alamo. He can ignore such limitations as bad textures and lack of proper distance sighting for a bit.
He turns in his tracks and then remembers he needs to find Jack. Jack the Dogg. Last he heard he was hanging with a bunch of airplanes at a hanger down on the south coast of Nautilus. He has a landmark, thanks to [delete name]. Monkeying around over, as I said. Time to act like a man now and remain upright and beholding to others of his own kind.
“Thank Gods you’re here, Trevor-Philip,” says the middle sized orange plane representing the present Jack, as opposed to the larger future one and smaller past one also around. “Quick. Get in and stabilize the timeline before I dissociate again.”
“I’m here for you, buddy.”
And then they were up in the air, heading for The Sphere. Not far past that mountain up ahead.
It’s spotted us! Philip thinks. I mean, it’s spotted me and himself. Time to bail, which of course was the plan all along. See ya Jack! Hello Jack!
“GREETINGS,” it said simply and plainly enough, popped out a bit from its base in comparison to the Jeogeot version pictured toward the top of this here post. Along with developing a sort of face obviously for speaking and seeing purposes. But that other one was just a copy all along, a mere reminder for Trevor/Philip’s true purpose in Our Second Lyfe. To find *this*. “LONG TIME NO SEE,” it joked, now looking around the vicinity with its huge peepers for the crashed, dead version of himself.
Perfect.
Sunklands 