Category Archives: Sansara^^

Baysity

“So. This is your portal.”

“I come down here to Dennis, I get cleaned up, um hum.”

“Err, you mean you get cleaned up and then you come down here to Dennis.” Baker Bloch remembered that Wheeler had said something was wrong with Tropp — True Opp. Maybe it’s that he gets everything backwards. He decides to test.

“So, Wilson Wheeler is your best mate down here.”

“Wheeler Wilson, yes.”

Aha! Baker thought.

—–

“I left him over there dancing. He seems to try to dance his way into a different form. Axis.”

“I’ve heard of him. Rules The Waste, among other places. Rosehaven even, perhaps.”

“We can’t get rid of him.”

“I know.”

“We tried. Same with Wheeler.”

“True enough.” Karoz leaned forward. “You know I have a different user than you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Come clean with it.” Baker Bloch knew, but he wanted to hear Karoz speak the name.

“Gene Fade.” Baker Bloch nods, trying to look a little shocked. “And the same goes for Tropp — Opp.”

“Gene Fade is Tropp’s user as well.” Baker kept his mouth open.

“But Tropp is the same as Bracket, originally king of the Comma Islands.”

“And, I’m guessing, Mmmmmm Grassy Noll is a Gene Fade avatar as well.”

“Could be.” Karoz continues his own story. “I was designed to safely walk the uber sacred peak of Grandaddy Mountain without damaging precious and sometimes rare plants. No animal interaction either. But I forsook this destiny and became enmeshed in Second Lyfe. Our Second Lyfe.”

“Chilbo.”

“Noru, actually. Norum.”

“Right.”

“Norum was stronger than Chilbo — Chilbol — in the early days. Before the deforestation.”

“Right. Plants talk. Plants aid. Look at Collagesity now. The only thing keeping it living and breathing is the Rubi Woods.”

“Correct.” He continues onward with more “revelations”. “Gene Fade is my father. Father *and* user.”

“I still…”

“Grassy too. Gene created Grassy from his own genes.”

“‘Fade to Moss,’ Baker proffers. “The production tells all of this.”

“But not in this dimension. Not yet. Gene wanted to go beyond his days as Grassy Noll’s sidekick in all those Salad Bar Jack action-adventure movies. He was quite famous, but only through Grassy. ‘Fade to Moss’, an autobiography that wasn’t an autobiography, was suppose to propel him into a different circle, a different level.”

“Didn’t work.”

“No.”

(to be continued)

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Filed under *Second Life, Sansara^^

not core

“I’m not sure if I can get rid of the two of you — this house.”

“Well you must in my opinion,” spoke up Mssr. Gold, feeling himself unnecessary for the new novel if he’s not dreaming of The Waste, Fruity Islands, End of Time, and Rosehaven all in one. “As I understand, this is suppose to be an analysis of what has gone on before. Unless you want us to help with with *that* part.”

“Unsure,” admitted Baker Bloch. He turned to the person on his couch. “What do you think April Mae?”

“I think we *must* return to the Omega continent and I’m glad you have a new foothold there with this Gold Mountain. Full of golden goodness and unlimited possibilities. You build off from there and you’ll be fine.” She looked over at her husband. Herbert Gold after all. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

“Dear?”

“Oh dear,” both Baker Bloch and April Mae Flowers spoke at once.

Looks like the couple won’t be in the new book after all.

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Filed under *Second Life, Purden/Snowlands

“They can see everything we do in our bedroom!”

It was not an *incredibly* bad looking house from the outside, April Mae Flowers thought while standing in the snow. But the insides were all wonky: crazily placed stairs, doors that won’t shut, and, perhaps most irritating of all, the transparent on transparent wall overlaps, which made parts of the house practically see-through when viewed from certain angles. She had told her newly wedded husband at the time that the Princess (who was in charge of such things then) rejected it after giving the matter serious consideration, citing some of these same issues plus tacking on a couple of her own — lighting; bedrooms that aren’t linked to the interior; plumbing. 300 linden dollars a month was all it was back then for a nice parcel, perhaps a 1024 like this, albeit without the double prims. But Herbert insisted that his “mansion” go along with the deal. It is understandable in that this was the place he helped raise Lisa and Bartholomew with his first two wives, Marg and then Madame Silver. What disastrous marriages! As bad as her own to retro-guy Septimius Felton, now 3 1/2 years dead in his grave. Marg as well — going on 9. Only Madame Silver remains among their exes, and apparently she’s gone bat-ass crazy over on the Omega continent, vowing to destroy Lisa and keeping brother Bart in limbo. She tries to avoid her part of the continent when visiting Septimius’ grave over there. Which reminds her… she needs to ask Mssr. Gold for the narrow boat-plane again tomorrow. She dreads the moment.


transparent on transparent

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Filed under *Second Life, Purden/Snowlands

surprise

“A what?”

“A rock star,” husband Monsieur Gold repeated to his wife April Mae. “I could tell it was me because I was driving the narrow boat-plane again.”

“Steve, you can take away these dishes now. We’re done.”

“Yes, mum.”

“Go on with your dream you had, dearest.”

“Well… I was also a cannibal. Ate human flesh. Involved a haunted hotel with a secret story room.”

“Storage room,” April Mae corrected.

“Yeah.”

“That’s interesting. Cannibal, eh? Like Claude. Down in Schism.”

“I suppose.” Why is Steve the Gardener serving us our food today? Monsieur Gold asked himself. *This* must be the dream. He decided to test it.

“What day is this?”

“Wednesday, dear. You know that.”

But it was Monday. And Steve the Gardener didn’t have a wooden hand yesterday.

“How was your trip to the cemetery? I forgot to ask you.” *Why* did I forget to ask her? he thought again. Was the cemetery even *real*?

“Fine. You’ll be glad to know the ex is still dead and in his grave. Won’t be resurrected anytime soon.”

“That’s good. Vampires are the worst.”

“I know. Try being married to one for 736 years.”

“Claude again.”

“Yeah.”

But Claude was a cannibal dog and not a cannibal human, so logically he could never be a vampire. Monsieur Gold grabbed a knife from cleaning Steve’s wooden hand and cut his wrist, sawed at it even until his hand was severed from it and dropped to the floor in several, sickening beats. Yet there was no pain. Monsieur Gold then grasped Steve’s wooden hand, popped it off in one swift action, and then attached it to his own wrist, wriggling the fingers satisfactorily. April Mae acted surprised but not shocked. She looked at the now handless Steve. “He knows about us,” is what she came up with.

But Monsieur Gold never woke up, which was much more surprising. He lived with his new hand for the rest of his life. And he never saw Steve again after the gardener/manservant gathered up the other hand under the table and left the mansion in a huff.

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Filed under *Second Life, Purden/Snowlands

isolated

They had finished their meals and were eating dessert by sunset. Hardly a word had been passed between the husband and wife all the time. Finally, after several spoonfuls of gelatin instant pudding: “Who’s in the cave with Mabel and Tessa, Herbert?” No immediate answer from her husband, so April Mae ventured some guesses. “Could it be… Jethro? Bauer?”

Monsieur Gold set his spoon down rather noisily on the table with this. No, not *Jethro*… *Bauer,* he thought, but also admitted to himself that he was blocked in that direction.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know what you meant.”

They ate in silence for a spell again. Then: “I’m going to the cemetery tomorrow,” spoke April Mae. “I haven’t been in almost 3 weeks.”

“Suit yourself,” came the quick followup. “Make sure you fill the narrow boat-plane with gas before bringing it back.” He dare not request the other thing in his mind; that she *please* *please* be careful with it this time and don’t run into that God cursed dune again, which just happens to be jutting up in the middle of God awful nowhere for some reason. Away from the rest of the Omega continent peaks.

—–

“I think I’ll take the gardener with me this time.”

“Why don’t you do that.”

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Filed under *Second Life, Mountain Lake, Purden/Snowlands

missing 03

“So both women were missing,” spoke Parasol as they walked through the snowy landscape.

“Good and evil, yeah.”

“Like me, then.”

They walked a bit further, then Monsieur Gold realized he had to say something: choose. “No, we’re good, we’re good,” he finally reinforced.

—–

Monsieur Gold woke up in his mansion, wife April Mae surprisingly by his side. She was propped up, staring at him. “Dreaming again?” He nodded. “Which was it this time, jungle, snow or desert?”

“All three,” he admitted while stretching. “What time is it?”

“5:15.”

He looks around the room. “Where’s the tv?”

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Filed under *Second Life, Purden/Snowlands, Rosehaven^^

Parasol 03

He sat on the throne a long time after he finished. He didn’t want to go back down. April Mae was pissed because *he* was pissed, one of those vicious cycles. But what did he really have besides the narrow boat-plane? She had her clothes, her friends, her furniture, her… paintings. Were they really her paintings? No, they had bought them together. The paintings were his as well. Kind of. Split, I suppose.

But… the scratch. Nay, more than a scratch, a scar. Car scar. She said she just ran into the dune — didn’t see it looming up in front of her when overshooting the cemetery. And why does she have to go out there to the Omega continent to visit her ex so often? She’s got *me* now. I’m the important, *living* one. She has to help protect *me*.

—–

Instead of going downstairs to continue arguing with his wife, Monsieur Gold decides to walk over to his study on the other side of the second floor to check his email account. Eventually, inevitably, he’s draw again to play that game on the laptop he’s so addicted to. We’ve seen it before: Gunn Mobile Home Trailer Park. He plays for about an hour until he’s pretty certain April Mae has simmered down. On his way to the stairs, he pauses to contemplate Monet’s “Woman with a Parasol” at the end of the hallway, one of two versions displayed in the mansion. One for him, one for his wife. Split.


“Oh. Hello dear. Sorry about before.”

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Filed under *Second Life, Purden/Snowlands