Category Archives: Purden/Snowlands^

Big Shift

Soon he had reached the end of his Abbey Road on the west edge of Vail.

One step further…

… and he was in a different place altogether now. Vila. Uncle Zach was (again: miraculously!) waiting for him in his Calypso Tuk Tuk Taxi.

“Where to, Butt?” He meant bud. Or did he?

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

more shifts

He was on the other edge of Cloudmont now, waiting for Doris with ruler in hand. Doris was late. Doris didn’t deserve much sympathy.

But he soon tired of this role (as well) and moved further away from the Purden Castle into Vail, anagram of Vila. What happened to his halo? Halo Boy — what happened to him?

He was such a Little Butt now.

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Filed under *Second Life, Purden/Snowlands^

trying to be “good”

Core-Alena had had enough. “This will *not* do,” she-he exclaimed, almost up to his-her gills in snow re-terraformed from “default” by the owners of the new house over there. Yes, more avatars have moved into Purden, further distancing the sim from the pristine forest it once was. Core-Alena decides he-she simply must become Mobile again.

Before changing over, she-he tests out the other “purd” sims.

Purdue University Calumet: not bad; a small forest of relative compatriots. He-she listens in on their chatty banter. The tree next to her-him complains of crowding. Time to move on, although he-she can revisit here.

Then Purdy was kind of interesting but not enough to linger. At least today. I want to be purdy, Core-Alena thinks after teleporting in. And so she-he will have that option… in a more human way, that is.

So that’s all the “purd” sims. His-her vertical travels have ended. Time for horizontal. Time to step out of the ground and into the air again.

First things first, she-he thinks upon changing over into the gun totting form he-she had last year. Kill the people in this house for causing her-him so much trouble.

Lucky for them they weren’t home. Core-Alena then moved on and forgot about his-her initial, cold blooded plan. She-he had bigger fish to kill fry. Purden Castle.

He-she ditched her-his weaponized self again halfway up the steep mountain. “More traction this way,” he-she purred, at one with the small engine.

The lust for killing went away with the transformation. Why am I here in the first place? she-he wondered neutrally at the top, just over the line in Cloudmont now. Dragon?

Inspired by the castle, he-she changed again. To a he. Apparently “purdy” will have to wait.

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

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^