Category Archives: VHC City^

July 28, 2017 · 7:36 am

olde

Buster Damm dare not enter the Circle of Orange again for fear of imprisonment but Clare, I mean, Wheeler took the chance. She wanted to look at that Lapara book again in Saturnia Saturn. She disguised herself appropriately, which was of course no problem now since she remained at least 74 to 75 percent clown.

“Hmm, a red-green ball on the bench beside it, neither color fully manifesting.”

She tried to sit on one or the other, but poses were all screwed up. To the book…

Oh cool. She could just *buy* it for L$0. Done.

Back to the Lapara pool!

—–

“Let’s see,” she said while floating and turning. “You just wear it like a HUD.”

She summoned Buster to join her in the examination. She could share the book with anyone.

Mentioned within are the High Mountain Road, Lapara Airport, Lapara Tibetian Monestary, and then Olde Lapara Towne itself to close.

So Clare Nova didn’t build a town in Lapara, she just owned parcels here. Perhaps still does. “Looks like we have some exploring to do, Buster!”

“Can I change out of these wet clothes first?” he complains, wishing again they had enough money to buy a proper room.

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July 14, 2017 · 6:52 am

Freedom

“Rule 110, pheh.”

—–

His stint as Surrogate George ended, Duncan Avocado returned to the PCH Forest bear cave one last time to do a general cleanup. Afterwards only items directly linked to Abigail’s humble abode remained…

… including this stash of Bearmalade which started the whole East-West spell war, of course. Both sides coveted it. With permission from Ms. Adams, he noms some down to give him needed energy for the return home. This was a magic elixir, part of the next generation of pass-through devices. Mana from heaven. The days of the enslaved portal animals will soon come to an end.

He then discharges his collected gormanbozia into the cave’s central pit, a long held ritual.

A series of transformations follow. First Baker Bloch, then Woody Woodmanson, then Pitch Darkly. Tempted one last time to keep this particular form, he thinks of Mary.

“The right George is with her now,” he speaks aloud. Returning to Duncan Avocado, he turns from the pit toward the bear behind him. “I wish to thank you for this gift again, Abigail Adams. I promise to use it well.”

“No problem Duncan my man,” the bear replies. “You better leave now. The witches will never end their battle.”

“Right you are.” He goes to the sacred fishing hole. Something is tugging at the line — something has always been tugging at the line, unhooked until today.

“Floydodo.”


Leaving the forest.

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July 3, 2017 · 4:26 am

Julia and Nancy

The heavily dreaming Musician was finally inside the great hotel, staring up at a painting of Bob Dylan by avatar Phil Strang. He wonders to himself why he doesn’t appreciate this particular musician more. Everyone intimately connected to the Chelsea seems to adore him. He greatly and heavily prefers The Beetles, though. John and George, but Paul and Ringo also. He’s looking for a particular place to sing “Julia” by John to wrap things up. But it won’t be here. “The Blue Angel is probably the better fit,” he says to himself. “John’s already there.” He ventures south out of the hotel, avoiding the Lil Magill room for now who everyone knows as Nancy. Misdirection.

—–

Speaking of Dylan, on his way to the Blue Angel, The Musician passes a gallery rented by Angelina Dickenson, the very same “police woman” who just drove out the last of the vampires from town. The present exhibit involves an artistic reinterpretation of lyrics from Dylan’s song “Hard Rain”. The Musician would have to visit and absorb later. To the Blue Angel next door…

—–

The Musician pretends there is an audience. All the women he has dated and loved are there. Helen, Audrey, Susie, Ethel and Pearl to the left. Bettie, Ginger, Ruth, Edna and May on the right. And missing Julia at the center of it all. “This one’s for you John.”

—–

“We missed him,” Wheeler says to Baker Bloch, staring over at the bloody bed and hovering ghosts from her corner seat in the famed Chelsea room. “The Nancy story will have to wait.”

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July 3, 2017 · 2:18 am

Better

Sadly, Baker Bloch indicates to his landlord through the scripted box above the door that he won’t be keeping his basement rental apartment. He’s already done the same with his second VHC City rental at the top of Bemberg Towers. Pulling out completely from the town, he is. Dreams of owning a gallery there called “Something To CHRO About” scuttled. He’s going back to Collagesity with the rest.

He opens the door and crosses the line between sims Bemberg and Sister just outside. An avatar immediately shows up, a dapper male in a black suit with white hair. Kohakt Resident was the name.

“Hey ho Soho hobo,” he exclaims happily. Baker Bloch attempts to be friendly and says hello, then asks if he rents around here. Kohakt mysteriously says, “Well this isn’t awkward, it’s fabulous. I wouldn’t because I am stripped rent wise already.” Baker Bloch was confused. Did he mean “strapped? (rent wise)”? Probably. “But it’s okay,” he quickly added. “I love the area.”

Baker Bloch voiced his suspicion. “You aren’t the *landlord/landlady* are you?” thinking that this may be Summerhill Nova or one of her cohorts in disguise. Why else would they show up just after he indicated he was terminating his lease on the apartment.

“Hey noo, relax lol,” Kohakt said to counter this, though. “Search and enjoy, that’s my motto.” Baker said that he liked the way Kohakt talked. He reminded him of some beatnik poet from the ’60s.

“You heading underground?” he then asked.

“Well, yeah,” Kohakt declares.

“Nice. It’s vast.”

“Let’s do it.”

“You’ve been down I assume.”

“Of course,” Kohakt answered. “Please. After you my friend.” Apparently Kohakt wanted Baker Bloch to be his exploring buddy. Baker mulled this over for a second, then acquiesced.

“Have you been past the crocodile pool?”

“I think so. But it’s been a long time since, well you know.” Baker was thinking again, making Kohakt prompt, “Well go on, I’ll be right behind you.”

And that was about it until the blue door. Baker went down the stairs outside his basement apartment leading to the underground but Kohakt didn’t follow. He looked back and saw him flying around aimlessly above. Was he that clumsy of movement? Baker asked himself. “Down here,” Baker clarified, making eye contact with him again. But when Baker reached the bottom of the stairs and went to the left toward the double doors heading to the heart of the underground, Kohakt was still not behind him. Baker gave up, and im-ed him, saying he’d have to explore the place on his own and hoped he enjoyed the journey. Baker opens the white door and passes from Sister to Bemberg once more. He stares at the blue door leading back to Sister. His own fate door.

Wheeler bursts through the white door. “Can’t act, can’t act, hmmf,” she says with a broad smile. Baker stares at her. “Well, it’s getting cold down here. Lead on! Let’s find The Musician going ’round in circles and make this a wrap.”

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July 2, 2017 · 10:16 am

Misdirection?

George manifests the planchette again and asks a question. “Will the east and west witches learn to coexist?”

—–

Wheeler was feeling better if still tired. Seeing this, Buster Damm had excused himself, saying he’d heard of trouble in VHC City. Wheeler reinforced that she could certainly fend for herself.

“Attack from the west, eh?” she ruminated while sitting in a raven black Victorian chair at the real Clare Nova’s church. “Well, two can play that game.”


“Or was it the east?”

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July 2, 2017 · 7:51 am

Knotted up

Collage 17 returns to Collagesity from Muff. Whole SoSo Gallery along with it. Red-green split fades and disappears.

—–

Woody bids farewell to his “summer home” in Bermingham. *He’s* moving to Collagesity! But I don’t think our story as a whole is quite done with that realm.

George is still there, for one thing.

Maybe Bendy as well. Probably is.

—–

Without Pitch/Baker in tow, Hucka Doobie says goodbye to the News and Views coffee shop across from the great hotel.

Yep, heading back to Collagesity too along with the others. He thinks of Pitch and what went wrong with this town. Or went right, now that the last of the vampires have been vanquished. After years of abuse Pitch has given up on VHC City. He use to be in the center. He became tired of living on the edge, without security, without a role to play. So he unconsciously attracted the end. More on that soon.

—–

Buster Damm came back to VHC City from the PCH Forest to find that his coffin underneath the Blue Angle had been deleted. He was exiled just like Pitch. Dead ball era over, I suppose.

—–

Mary: One last bit of “reeling them in” from her favorite fishing hole across the tracks from the city. Like Buster, she’s following Pitch outta here.

There’s too much at, er, stake, not to. Within the Realm of Orange or overall Sphere of Influence of VHC City, she remains sterile. Outside is another story.

—–

Another nearby red-green dichotomy. The abode of hot, temperamental Angelina Dickenson, a police woman of sorts. We haven’t met her in our story yet, and maybe never will. But she’s the one who drove the nails in the last two vampire coffins of the area. Again — for better or worse. Siren always set to on.  Continuously looking out for the town, especially the Sister side.

—–

But what of the Bemberg part? Still reading Sunklands, landlady Summerhill Nova sits in her office contemplating what to do about Baker and his several rentals there.

Obviously, she thinks, since Baker is the same as Pitch he’ll be leaving too. But should he be forced out? Punished, in a way. Summerhill is hoping he’d just quickly exit of his own volition and she could wash her hands of the matter. Let it just fade away.

—–

Baker himself stands before the blue door, thinking he should never have gone through it and made another dwelling place in Sister. Illegal, yes. Indefensible, correct. But, overall, temporary and harmless, like *everything else*. Like many of us after November’s big bump, Angelina was way under her land impact limit. Had the story been worth it? I think so. Else it would never have been told, I suppose.

—-

And we’re not quite through yet. The Musician is still circling around Clown Central, trying to find a way out for both he and Wheeler. Trapped in a dream. Sikul Himakt. He suddenly realized what had to be done.

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June 30, 2017 · 7:30 am

Baumy

It was a most remarkable coincidence. Wheeler changes into a witch on Wednesday and is taken to a church on the western edge of the PCH forest to recuperate from a nasty accident with a Halloween tree, and the very next day a witch’s cottage appears on the far eastern side of this same woodland. George understood it to be his new temporary home, an upgrade from the Castle Tower. Duncan Avocado had explained to him that there was more than one Orange, and that the second who had assumed control by treachery was even worse than the first (Nova). The boy would have to stay in the holding forest a while longer. Was Mary even going to be his new mother? He’d already chosen a first name appropriate for the situation. There was the whole tentacled cluster of synchronicities surrounding the anticipated event. The Monster some called it. Others: Baby Monster. Whatever, it had many arms and it was large. It might even be tamed down into a dragon symbol in later times. Which could be earlier times. George was already a bit alive and dead at once. Wheeler Wilson moved forwards and backwards together. “Fo fo fo,” chants Malone from the Chasm Deep. Titusville.

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June 28, 2017 · 7:30 am

No workout

Baker Bloch knew something he could do to perhaps help immediately. There was one too many of the same color within the sphere. He transformed into King Orange and teleported over to his house in Saturn. Greater Malefic, opposite Tronesisia’s positively charged Rose MoonDream cottage. Realm of Oranges which should be just Realm of Orange.

He takes one last gulp of wine through his forehead and begins the process. The King knew Orange Nova usually woke up about 7 and headed over to Muscle Madness to begin his daily 10 hour workout. It was 5 now. This was a window.

He goes outside. “Eclipse nightclub,” he thinks, staring in its direction. “Damn fine goblets of wine.” He then peers further, just around the corner. White house.

Orange — the *fake* Orange — would be sleeping upstairs in its only furnished room. *Barely* furnished. This should be simple.

—-

Goblet raised, King Orange strikes.

And strikes again. And strikes again and again. And again.

—–

Orange Nova turns from blue to white. At 7 sharp he walks out of his house toward Muscle Madness, chained to a routine even after death.

He can’t pick up weights. He can’t sit on the benches. He can’t do anything.

Morris shows up.

“I’m the last person anyone wants to see in their lives,” he admits. “But it has to be done. Come with me Orange Nova. You’re time has arrived.”

Morris changes into a wolf and leads him through the portal to the Great Beyond.

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June 28, 2017 · 6:20 am

Church

Baker Bloch changed into Pitch Darkly and summoned Buster Damm to the scene. They couldn’t think of anywhere else to go, so they took her to a nearby church just on the other side of the woods. Tronesisia and Mary were supposedly still out of town. VHC City was not safe any longer. King Orange’s place was too close to the edge for comfort. No, it would have to be the church. The real Clare Nova’s church.

The next day, after a good night’s rest in a barrel bed located on the second floor, Wheeler felt a little better. “You called me Clare,” she said to Pitch Darkly, sitting in a nearby chair. Damm was out gathering firewood in the forest. “I distinctly remember your voice saying the name Clare in alarm. You thought I was dead.”

“Actually, at first I thought you were Mary. But, yeah, I did say Clare. I’m not sure why. I knew you were the person in the picture.”

“What picture?” asks Wheeler.

Pitch uncrossed his legs. “Never mind that right now; I’ll show you later. First you must get better. That was a nasty collision you had with that tree.”

“Hallo-ween tree,” she said.

“That’s right. Nowhere near Christmas. I don’t know why you were there. Do you remember your name now?” Pitch looked at her keenly.

“I’m Wheeler. My name is Wheeler. Wheeler Wilson.”

“That’s it,” says Pitch Darkly, encouraged.

“Or is it Wilson Wheeler?”

—–

“Very sad,” Pitch said to Buster later after they’d shared a meal of fruit and vegetables downstairs. “It’s as if she’s stuck between regular and reverse times.”

“She must have made successful contact with the shadow being.” Buster looks around the room. “Sure are a lot of bear images around here, Pitch. And more in the woods — real ones. There’s a cave if you haven’t noticed. Bear cave. Thing shocked me when I went inside and turned to the right. But she’s a right fine fellow. Name’s Abigail. But she’s mad as hell at the real Clare Nova. She’s hunted her kind. For example, look to your right.”

“I know. I’ve seen it over there.”

“And your left.”

“Appears to be circus related,” guessed Pitch. “Clowns… bears. We’re moving closer to the truth.”

“Wheeler may not fully come out of it for a while,” said Buster, sighing.

“We may have to keep her here,” suggests Pitch. “Nowhere left to turn.”

“And danger all around.” Buster scans the room again.

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June 27, 2017 · 3:26 pm

solidsphere

“What do you think Buster? It’s the first image that comes up in a google search for ‘pitch darkly’ that isn’t a part of the Sunklands blog.”

“But… there’s nothing in it,” Buster logically replied.

“Oh, there’s a bit of blonde or red hair if you look closer. Right down there at the bottom.”

“Not much.”

“No.”

“So what does it mean?”

“Hmmmm… I’m sensing a general absence about the Pitch Darkly character. And of VHC City as a whole. I guess you heard that George won’t be joining us anytime soon.”

“Yeah, sorry about that Pitch,” Buster replied. “False pregnancy alarms are tough. I have 23 children — I think — scattered around not only VHC City but the whole of mainland. Been around, you know. 2 by what use to be called Blue Angels alone. Use to live underneath the hot spot, hehe.”

“Thank you Buster. We’ll keep trying, of course. I want to have a kid so bad.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you really?”

“Ummm…”

“You don’t do you?”

“No.”

“Not at all, do you?”

“No. Not really at all.”

“Well there you go.”

—–

Outside the Sphere of Influence or Realm of Orange (take your pick at this point), our boy George has discovered a small Christmas tree on the southern edge of the PCH Forest he now dwells within. “Presents!” he cries, and looks at the tags. The one with the green bow up front is from Lou. The larger present that has a red bow says it’s from Morris. And then perhaps the biggest one tied with a white ribbon is from Osborne. Osborne Wells. Which to open first??

—–

Afterwards, Baker Bloch goes to the same spot in the woods and find something different: a seemingly dead witch glued to a tree she obviously ran into while driving around drunk on her broomstick. He now realizes whose head it is at the bottom of that empty picture.

“Clare!”

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