Category Archives: 0104

00330104

I use to have a dog, Edward thought while staring down at the masked man’s he was standing uncomfortably close to. If he were in his same time zone.

Funny how he can’t recall what kind. Must be an exotic type.

—–

“Catchup,” Edward Daigle exclaimed after waking up beside Mary. “The dog’s name was…”

“Don’t say it.” A flood of memories came back for the avid fisherwoman. Pitch! How could I have forgotten. She springs up out of bed and stares down at Edward, straightening her skirt. How could *you* have forgotten.

Edward wakes up in Towerboro and, looking down at the Arkansaw book he was sleeping on, remembers to jot it all down.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0033, 0104, Jeogeot, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Upper Austra^

00330103

Cardinal looks over at Bluebird happily unpacking more cotton candy swabs and wishes she would have gone into sweet as well.

“Excuse me, miss, do you have this in red?” asked Billie about the Chardonnay she holds, producing a sour look from her and driving a potential customer away. See what I mean?

Where before there was a lime colored X-1/9, sleek in design, now all our Edward Daigle (Baker Bloch in disguise) had was a lemon. The helicopter crashed to the ground, *JUMP*.

The NO Tor was just over the horizon in the distance. Something about that Tor…

Too bad Edward didn’t spot it on his visit today.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0033, 0103, 0104, Jeogeot, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Upper Austra^

00320104

He teleports in to the sim’s triple number without planning it. 152 152 152. This Lorsters Worst, name changed while Blue Rose Thorn is examining it, not wanting to taint the procedure in any way. Largest burg on Yd Island most likely, or at least top two or three. I’ll have to check. Anyway, we’ve already featured this very sim in a totally different incarnation in photo-novel 2, near its beginning. The David Bowie vibe was strong at the time. Could it be continued here?

Virginia again, just like with the cat-witch of the Wicked Wild West who practices her melting exercises atop vending machines, sometimes of the seedier variety even. She has something to do with this, BRT notes.

And of course the obvious resonance with Kowloon, especially featured in the blog through novel 17. The great and legendary walled city of Hong Kong, now razed.

He strangely feels at home here. He thinks he’s found something to spend the rest of his travel allowance on for the night. Who needs a midnight snack?

“What’s your name?” he asked after the money is spent.

“Rose,” came the mechanical answer beside him. This began the memory loss of his middle name. Plain ol’ Blue Thorn he was for a spell. Plain and simple: absorption.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0032, 0104, Nautilus, Yd Island^

00310104

Waiting for the go cart race to begin. Excited whispers of Petty all around. Or is it Ketty? Who’s Ketty? Baker Bloch asks himself upon honing in on a name.

Ah yes, *Ketty* he remembers at the next stop in the Amusement Park after throwing up the entirety of his veggie burger eaten earlier that day. Wheeler soon followed suit — all over her man suit. The he sets them up she knocks them down situation continues…

The 2 88’s in back: fine.

“You okay?”

“*You* okay?” Wheeler returned, seeing more green around them than red afterwards.

Baker Bloch set his jaw straight. “We’ve got to get to Ketty before he gets to us.”

“Again!” Big breath. “Let’s just get out of *here*.”

“Okay.”

The 88’s volunteered to clean up but Wheeler thought that was beneath their job description. After performing the task anyway, they pointed out the word *custodians* in the 1st sentence of their contract.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0104, Lands End, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Wild West

Sam Drunker

“We don’t like your kind around here, you *hippies*, with your *peace* signs.”

“We’re *not* hippies,” Norris and Pietmond demanded in front of their parked, garishly colored van, trying to get their bearings in this queer place. Its wheels simply would not turn without them. “We’re gypsies.”

“And killing citizens right and left after you just entered the gates of town,” he continued his rant and attached deadly glare.

“They were *zombies*. They would kill *us* without thinking about it!”

“Nevertheless. Zombies are people too. Besides… you need a license in this town to kill zombies. I’ve been waiting to say that to someone for a long time. People around here don’t listen. But *you*…”

“Strangers.” Norris understood this must be one of the disgruntled Pro-Dead he’s heard about in the general Sunklands area. The reason they’re there in the first place. He nodded toward Pietmond, knowing they were on the right track. He produced the blue feather from his grey pocketbook. “Know anything about *this*?”

The farmer-lawyer recalls. His mind drifts back to that day in early May of last week’s July. He falls back but then springs forward, pitchfork in hand. He’s gonna make *them* dead. Then he can defend their rights properly, heh.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0030, 0104, Jeogeot, Sunklands^

Cowboy (revealed 02)

“Another dream: I was at 23:23, the place *and* the time. This was the…”

“… beginning?” He’d heard this too. Male-female synthesis. “So we’re back to trying to track this 102 fellow. Or 102 girl.”

“Yeah.”

—–

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0029, 0104, Canada, Canada/Picturetown, Heterocera, Pond District^, Rubi^

00280104

“Queer dream,” states the now black Chief in his bar by the blue swamp in the southwest corner of Paper-Soap. “Say the girl’s name is Atrophia?”

“That’s what she said. Blue hair. Blue as Heaven.” The visiting Aldebaronian glanced at his wrist. 4:20? Not on *his* watch.

Black Chief looks out the door of the small bar. “Rain now. Swamp will be getting pretty damp soon. Better rev up the dehumidifier, um, Stu. That *is* your name today, isn’t it?”

Stu Umbriel, who goes by many names since that cursed birthday party about 1 month back now where bodies began to merge together in queer ways, smiles and says it is so. “Today,” he reinforced. He moves around back to crank up the moisture removal device, which he knows the ins and outs of better than Chief, being a regular moisture producer himself. In fact: better take a leak behind the bar after I roll this baby out in the middle of the room, he thinks. He glances down. This blue blue baby. Blue? Center? Just like the (stranger’s) dream.

The rain gets harder. “Yelloo!” he exclaims behind the bar, getting wetter all the time.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0104, Paper Soap, Soap

opposite sides of arms can be different

“Thanks for serving me bottles, guys. I don’t care much for cans, because of the name and all. Pepi “Can” Kolya at your service. I say that so you can see me for who I am, like friends.” It was here they noticed the holes in the head, and why this dude probably just missed his flight out of here to a fantasyland of his choosing. The Lake will do that to you; lull you to sleep. This Starfish.

“‘Nother one, bud?” asked one or the other, take your pick.

“Nah, better amscray. Gotta catch a 5:15 outta here.”

“6:15, now,” said the one that didn’t talk before, the other bartender. They may have been twin brothers but they may not be as well: picks again.

“Whattt??” exclaimed Koyla. He’d been following the wrong time zone, which was the right time zone before crossing the Centalia Line. He liked to be conveniently late but 1+ hours won’t hack it. He’d have to reschedule.

—–

“Another one bites the dust,” says Marion “Star” Harding to his Project Humboldt v1.4 CM plane, use to it. “Fantasy people, pheh.”

“I hear ya,” he imagined the plane saying back to him through his or her propeller.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0027, 0104, Nautilus, Upper Austra^

Meanie?

He could look up from the Knowhere Gallery and see the big red NO on the hill, marking the namesake tor. Where it all began in this here photo-novel, 26 in a series of — I’ve lost count admittedly. 2? Mental note: cut down on the number of questions I ask myself in this here novel. But should I? Moving on…

The property with the Knowhere Gallery in Necrotee borders neighboring Yelloo sim to the north. In the Beatles’ inspired animated movie “Yellow Submarine”, a sculpture of a giant KNOW (word) early in the movie changes to a NOW and, finally, a NO, as letters are destroyed during the invasion of Pepperland by Blue Meanies, with the general idea being a shift from positive to negative vibes all around. Is that what happened here? Sorry: that’s what happened here, in Necrotee. Moving north to south. Here’s a picture of the full sim from above, “Know” gallery to the north, and the NO (part of NO FLY) to the south. Not much else in the sim.

“That’s all very fascinating,” she said, still beside me or around me somewhere. “But what of the red light that whisked little Alysha to… where was it? Angels Airport I guess? Where they apparently lose planes every once in a while? But somehow people still take said planes to their destination? Is that how this works?”

“Listen, W, I made a vow to my reader or readers that we’d cut back on the questions in this here blog.”

“And attached photo-novels,” she dutifully tacks on.

“Right. But: yes. I guess we have a general mystery laid out by now. Letters in Necrotee; the No Tor; red light–”

“It was a ship,” interrupted W. “Not a plane. Go to the ship.”

“Alright.”

—–

“Ahh. The ship that, let’s say, *kidnapped* little Alysha and took her to the airport somehow, still in Lower Austra but still pretty far away from here.”

“Airport,” she repeated. “Terminal.”

I complained about my lemonade getting stale, being procured the night before. I asked her if I could go back to, let’s see, Underclaw, and get a fresh one. But: no time. Tonight I had to find out what made this ship tick, what was the driving force.

I opened a door but the wrong one. I quickly shut it before the vacuum of space consumed the whole vessel. Losing only a little oxygen and pressure, I was able to breath and walk still. Recovered, I tried other doors.

And then there he was. In the back eating turtle soup and taking a break from driving, blue as FLY. Should’ve known.

I went back and sat across from him, trying to gauge his moral compass. The soup just turned out to be a turtle, a pet he carried with him most places and most flights. Turns out, additionally, it acted as his moral compass. Right now it was pointed south.

I asked him if he had any fresh lemonade. The southward pointing turtle manifested one from her mind, even skewing it toward my favored hand.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0104, Lower Austra^, Nautilus

00250104

“I’m tired of being a Menace, Grandpa.”

“Grumpy, please,” insisted the octogenarian soaking beside him.

“Right. You’re sure they didn’t see me.”

“No one can see you. Now.”

“But you?…”

“No one takes heed of me any more. I’m *ever-present* you could say. And I never do no talking. Being naked all the time has its advantages. No one takes you really seriously.”

Mick looked over, noted the substantial package Grumpy was obviously protecting from harm. Star in his days, he thought. Still thinks he can make a comeback in that industry; still able to keep it up for 20 or so minutes at a time. With aid from the red and blue pills. “I’ve chosen a disguise,” he says over to his one and only true, non-goofy friend in the world, now that the wife has passed away. But he doesn’t like to think about the farming accident with the tiger and the grenade down in Bellisaria. “The doctor has arranged it. He will be known later on as… the Doctor of Mouse, and then, maybe, perhaps, simply become Dr. Mouse. He will do it. He has assured me it will work.”

Grumpy Grandpa thinks back to the days when they were trying to talk him into an operation to change a body part. Too big, they exclaimed to him, catching him in the shower with it one day. Perhaps his mother, perhaps a brother — but word got around. Drew has a big package, everyone found out. The girls at the school started taking more notice of him, a lot more notice. The boys respectfully bowed their heads now when he was around, instead of taunting him with jeers about his weight and such. He had found his niche, even though he didn’t know it at the time. No more residing between a rock and a hard place.

Mick brought him out of the past. “They’ll start with the head; get rid of all the black. Just like Bendy: you know Bendy, the attendant up at the gate house.”

“No.” But Drew “Grumpy” Cleveland, aka Grandpa Cliffs, knew all about Bendy and what went right and also what went wrong with *that* operation. Disguises all around in this here Castle Town of Southern Omega.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0104, Omega^^, Southern