Category Archives: 0101

Heartsdale 01

“She finds a heart that is a yoyo in a hotel plaza, Hucka Doobie. Yoko is close to yoyo.”

“Listennn.”

—–

“I’m going to walk right over to that phone and make a call. I can’t find that girl of mine *anywhere* in this confounded town. Alleys go this way, pathways go that way. It’s like a maze!”

Amazing, thought Yoko Ona from the other side. This must be one of John’s friends!

“Oh. You using the booth?” he asked after spotting her.

No, I’ll fix that. She rewinds time.

Zach Black walks up to the phone with Yoko Ona on the other side. He doesn’t spot her, as if she’s invisible. He picks up the receiver. He can’t remember the exact number so he presses in all of ’em, in a row. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 and 0 to end. That should do it, he thinks. It rings on the other side.

“Hello?” Feminine voice, good. No new jack-ass boyfriend to deal with, perhaps.

“Audrey?” he speaks into the receiver with his cool cat voice.

“Yes?” Cool cat back at him.

—–

In another part of town, David A.B. was talking to Linda Halsey about that failed transformation attempt over in Urqhart where she hails from. “Sorry about that,” he says to her in a conciliatory way. “We will try harder next time.”

What about *my* transformation, unobserved Yoko Ona thinks in a neighboring chair.

And then she spots *another* of herself walking against a rock textured wall across the street. How many are there??

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0101, Heartsdale^^

beginnings

She often thought back to that day later on. “What are you doing here in Storybrook, sir, if I may be so bold to ask?” A person of color in Storybrook was unusual. She’d only seen a handful in her 13 years of growing up here.

“I’m looking for something,” came the cold, monotoned response of Arthur Kill, shoes shined until the starless void within was revealed again. “It could be right behind me for all I know,” but he then didn’t look over his shoulder to find the accidental truth he spoke.

The girl? Her friends called her Pink, because she always was. Actual name: Marsha Krakow. And she’s most likely the next star in our Collagesity series of photo-novels, this here being the start of the 19th.

In kin with the now deceased Cpt. Americus, she liked drumsticks, usually holding 2 at a time in this case. Double the fun.

—–

“Can I help you with that tire, Lester?”

“No I’m good Marsha,” came the friendly response between screws. Lester was a friend but not a good friend. She let the “Marsha” appellation go with him. And with most people. But to her good friends, the *closest* ones, and they numbered three, it was always “Pink” or suffer the consequences. She had likewise despised first names to hurl back at them — Betty, James, Clovis — if they slipped. For all of them had nicknames based on color. It was a game that went back to when they were all kids growing up side by side by side with each other on Arnold Lane. Right down there…

Four houses in a row.

Back to the drumsticks…

She often forgot she was holding them for hours after a session.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0101, Corsica^^, Storybrook

tonight

“If that lamb would just lie down I could get on with my story.”

“Ain’t going to happen,” replied the wise, grounded ram. For tonight.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0101, Corsica^^, Splinterwood

Omegatown

I think I may have found the end of the world.

Shall we go inside?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0101, Louisiana

smoking

“It’s already starting again, Hucka.”

“I know. Surprising, eh. Have you seen your father yet?”

“Not yet.”

“We’ll be — on The Moon — soon.”

“Suppose so.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0101, Golden Sink^, Maebaleia/Satori^^

sink sank sunk

“We’re here.”

“Super.” Your Mama then turned toward Raggy. “Got any more of those ham sandwiches around? I’m ravished.”

“Careful with those. You know what…”

“I know, I know. That’s why I’m *here*.”

—–

“I wonder what’s this way?” she voiced defiantly.

“Care-ful.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0101, Maebaleia/Satori^^, White Horse Village

the 2 biggies and 5 more

There is no fairer than thee
Collagesity
So I will return
To have more of my fun

—–

“Look Baker Bloch. I’m Edward Swift. From Ruby.”

“Nice one, Wheeler. Soooo… you’re still the head honcho around here I’m taking it. Or so you claim.”

“I *am*.”

“But me too.”

“Right. We must clarify *core*. There’s only 8 chairs around this Table, but there are 10 cores.”

“Maybe we can discard two. As was done before… over in Nascera.”

“Maybe. So let’s start. Let’s bring them all in here.”

“Alright.”

——

“Sitting by my side now is Tropp, formerly Opp formerly Campbell Opine.” She takes a gander at him. “My my, you’re looking good today in your birthday hat Mr. Tropp.”

“Thank you.”

“Care to tell us about yourself… for the reader or readers?”

“I was born Campbell Opine, an Mmmmmm (blue). But I grew beyond my toyhood beginnings. That’s about it.”

“Speaking of which, let’s bring in the next core. Grassy Noll. Now this isn’t Grassy Noll — nor Salad Bar Jack for that matter — but we’re going to call him that. Like I am Wheeler but not Wheeler, see?”

Tropp nods. Baker replies: “But not me.”

“Again, yes.”

—–

So here’s Grassy. That’s your cousin, Tropp.”

“I know. Hi Grassy.”

“Hi cuz. My you’ve grown since I last saw you!”

“Thanks.”

“So Grassy. My good friend who I bummed around Iris with last year. Tell us about yourself. What you’ve been up to?”

“Still in Iris, Wheeler. I wrote you. You never wrote back.” Grassy makes a pouty face.

“Yes, sorry about that. I’ve been running around here and there. Trying to keep up with Baker.”

“That’s alright. I know you’re busy, Wheeler… Bill. But I want you to come see me (!).”

“I will Grassy. Very soon. And thanks for remaining such a good friend.”

“You’re welcome. And Tropp or Campbell or whatever you go by now… you come as well.”

“Oh I will. Thanks as well.”

“Goodbye Grassy,” spoke Wheeler in parting. “We’ll be seeing you soon.”

“Yes, goodbye my cousin,” added Tropp. “I have grown beyond you and toydom in general but that’s still my roots, and you are my anchor there.”

“Good to know,” answered Grassy, not quite knowing how to take that. Nevertheless, a tear forms in his eye. It is time for him to return to Iris, understanding that friend and family haven’t forgotten about him. He will catch up with them soon. He’s been busy as well!

—-

“Next we have Spongeberg. Spongeberg the Destroyer,” Wheeler enlarged. “Hi Spongeberg.”

“Hello. I never mentioned, to you or others, that my home of Mystenopolis over on the Nautilus continent has been erased. One section remains though… and I checked tonight real quick since I’m not inworld very much at all any more. Thanks for rezzing me and inviting me back to the Table.”

“You’re welcome. Sorry about Mystenopolis. I suppose I didn’t know. And the giant Jesus statue?”

“Erased.”

“How about the duplicate? The giant faun… opposite in nature. The great duality.”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, I’ll pop over there myself sometime soon and see for myself, since you’ve so kindly reminded me of it.”

“Goodbye, Wheeler. Nice to see you again. Nice to meet you Tropp. You two guys have fun in Collagesity. It’s a great place and I’m glad I didn’t destroy it several years back. But, just to warn, I leave open that option, and there’s not a darn tooten thing you can do about it.”

Tropp laughed at this, but Spongeberg kept a straight face. Wheeler stared at him. In ways Spongeberg’s power goes beyond hers. If he desires to destroy Collagesity, indeed he can. She must keep him on her good side. “Anything to add here?” Wheeler calls over to the silent Baker Bloch.”

“Nah. Good to see you as well, Spongeberg.”

“So long,” he said to all.

—-

“Let’s see,” started Wheeler again. “Next I suppose we should bring in Roger Pine Ridge. He has elevated himself through hard work to become a core member of our Table.

—–

“Welcome Roger Pine Ridge.”

“Happy to be here.”

“Tell us about yourself.”

“I started out as rough and gruff Biker Mann, consort to Cyberpaperdoll. We lived here right in Collagesity in one of the SoSo Mall apartments. Great view down Old Cannon Road into the woods. Many a night I’ve stared down into the trees smoking my special cigarettes and seeing various creatures emerge from them… or imagined they did. Giants, dwarfs, robots, elves, candy people, holiday figures… you name it.”

“Bandits?” asked Wheeler sneakily.

“Um.”

“Never mind that. Bad joke. So Cyberpaperdoll left you for another man. Tell us about that.”

“I think you just did. Bandit Boy.”

“Right. So I did. And, let’s see, you yourself are a bandit. Stole something very important from Collagesity a while back. Care to tell us about *that*?” She meant the Rainbow Sphere.

“Nah, probably should go.” Roger Pine Ridge understood this invitation to be a trap now. “Tata,” he said in parting.

—–

“We have one more for tonight, Baker Bloch and Tropp. Looks like Lockfry Resident. But who is *he* — at the core? Let’s see.”

—–

“I don’t think we’ve met you before sir… ma’am.”

“No,” the ambiguous being replies. “I don’t know who I am.”

—–


Remembering.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0101, Rubi^, The Cross

sandy

Something different came to the sim of The Sand Seas today.

Nearby, spatially and temporally: Patrick still likes cats.

“I like cats. Man.”

But who was this man he speaketh to, just emerged, dusty and dingy and gritty, from The Sea of Sands to the immediate south of here? Jethro?

No, not him. Although he may play a part in our play later on. Instead: Monsieur Gold. Looking high and low for granddaughter Tessa. Searching near and far for step-children Lisa and Bartholomew. Dealing with the connivings and machinations of Madame Silver and fellow evil villain known as The Parasol all along the way.

“Any other place to sit here?” he implores to Patrick the crazy cat lover across from him, not wishing to presently accomplish the function his tire seat was designed for. Disgusting.

“No,” responds Patrick, attempting to smooth out a cowlick on the back of a cat.

Nearby (spatially and temporally):

“God I hate murders. Despises them.”

I think it may be Jethro’s brother/cousin. Baer? Bauer? I believe I’m onto something…

Something different came to the sim of Bauerbridge today.


129,127 — close enough.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0101, Mountain Lake^, The Waste^^

screamer

There was no ice cream in the truck today.

Luckily Rey Wisa always kept a spare cone in his pocket.


Bluebells Queen.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0101, Nascera^^

Return

The war over, Tronesisia pilots her Pink Baron back to Middletown to begin civilian life again. Her wheels touch down precisely on the 2 yellow rubber lines of Main Street just beyond Treasure Bay. Perfect 3 point landing.

But she hadn’t earned the moniker of flying ace for naught. 20 Frenchmen alone shot down! She returned a war hero, with all the accompanying accolades. She was a baroness now, due to marry Lord Bendington on the 25th (Christmas Day).

What about former lover Peter SoSo you may ask? Left behind in the ashes of battle bombs. Unable to extract himself from the high life in Hana Lei. Tronesisia desired more for her own life than just wobbling around stoned all the time. She desired accomplishments… medals. Badges signifying significance.

She strides powerfully into the skyscraper with her penthouse apartment. Surely soon to be renamed Baroness Towers, she thinks. Or some equivalent. “Hello, Ms. Tronesisia,” Bert the doorman says at the entrance. “Welcome back.” After she passes, he rushes into the work room to tell Timmy, Ben, and Wanisa to fetch her luggage out of the plane posthaste. Word spread fast through town. “Ms. Tronesisia is back, Ms. Tronesisia is back!” She was loved and feared by the citizens of Middletown.

“Ahh, good to be home!” she exclaims on her patio while sipping strong German beer and looking out across the sea. Soon she would be surrounded by royalty. She imagines them sitting all around her now, talking of her war glories and helping her take steps to make sure her celebrity status pays dividends in the marketplace of what surely will be a post-war boom.

Finished with her beer, she heads inside to retrieve another from the top-of-the-line Italian refrigerator. She pauses at a certain point, sensing something different… new.

Tronesisia doesn’t see the bottom 1/3rd of the Kidd Tower just below her this particular night. Billie Jean Kidd had been unsuccessful so far in bringing the remaining 2/3rds to Middletown to make it clearly visible from this window of the penthouse apartment. But soon she would. And then Tronesisia’s dreams of life as a post-war baroness would all melt away.

She would remember who she was, at the core.

“At the core,” Billie Jean Kidd echoes down below.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0101, Jeogeot^^, Middleton