Category Archives: 0108

judgment

Exhausted, Tronesisia finally stopped playing the harp for tonight. She looked around, red eye still in place. Where was she? The afterlife?

No. Still in Danshire.

And there were other instruments left to play in the same antiquated house. She switches to keyboards and plays something different. The red eye finally recedes.

In the next room, Herbert Gold, Furry Karl, Heidi Hunt Ives, Norris, and perhaps some others not in this particular shot fade into view to listen in on the gorgeous music, flowing like platinum prune into their ears and senses. That was actually the name of the song: “Platinum Prune.” Or “In Search of…”, with the almost priceless prune theoretically showing up at the end of the overall suit of songs, drawing them inward and onward. Much better than Steel Raisin. We begin a journey.

—–

She paused in reading her just published novel “Olive, Green and Pink”. “Ben, dear, it’s gotten suddenly quite chilly in here. Could you put another log on the fireplace?”

“‘Bout bedtime,” he counters, faking a yawn and not sensing anything out of the ordinary himself. One thing on his mind right now.

Picking up on this, she stares over at him after he finishes, trying to decide. Book or boy?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0108, Corsica^^

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 **VIRTUAL, 0108, Purden/Snowlands^

queens

But instead Buurb finds himself heading left, toward the freebies library at the end of Lost Heaven Road. What to buy today? he considers. Maybe something for Mabel this time.

—–

Yes, more bean stew for Mabel. He loves that stuff. And — Buurb couldn’t resist — a Green Lantern mini-avatar for himself, hehe. He can hear his wife now: “You’re *such* a Sheldon.”

Bill (Wheeler again) couldn’t figure it out. Why would this mysterious Ellen insist on going first and then make such a weak opening move? She counters with her own weird kind of opening: Pawn to Queen 4. Because at this rate she was going to win in 13 moves or less. Anyway, she’d check back tomorrow and see if Ellen had stopped by to play again. Poor girl; maybe not the brightest of us all.

—–

But Bill was wrong about that.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0108, Heartsdale^^, Heterocera^^, Iris^, Nascera^^

spots 02

“Pitch Darkly will be here shortly. As soon as they start talking to Phillip Linden run over there and lay this giant lime on the bar counter close to them. That’s all you have to do. Just wait here.”

“Yes,” affirms Young Duncan, hip to her trip.

“Come on, honey,” says the approaching Osborne Well. We have somewhere else to be now. Should’ve been there about 2 hours ago, blimey.”

—–

“Too late,” states Lou to her father in the Comfrey caverns. “Wheeler must have come fetched The Musician after all. I suppose that’s good, huh? Right daddy?”

Wondering what he’s distracted by, Lou goes over and merges with him, then stares out with same eyes at the manifested creature in the center of the glimmering cave pool.

MOA.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, ., 0108, Clemscott^, Comfrey, Gaeta V^^

name game 02

Broken Heart led Earie through a series of backyard passages where they met several colorful characters. I’ll get to that story more later. But true to her word they were here outside the Joint Joint, with Jacob I. supposedly within. Broken Heart had further explained that the I. stood for nothing. “Think Harry S. Truman,” she said while striding over some old tires on their journey. Seeing Earie not reply, she added, “or U.S. Grant.” “So his full and legal name is Jacob I.,” Earie replied back, dodging a broken coke bottle. “Formerly Jacob the Lawnmower,” he furthered, alluding to earlier conversation. By this time they were passing through Old Lady Bedford’s clothes line in another tight spot, being careful not to get, well, clotheslined (caught in the neck). At 96 she represented the town’s oldest prostitute, but her only remaining customer was Billy Tokesalot, a nonagenarian himself. Sometimes it took them 10 days.

In the present moment, Earie tried the door to the establishment. Locked. “Don’t knock the knockers,” Broken Heart ordered from below. “He’ll come.” Nothing happened for several minutes. Earie glanced over at the policeman standing beside them a couple of times, but his gaze remained fixed on the window. “Nice night,” Earie finally offered. The policeman didn’t answer; focus unchanged. At 4:45am Jacob I. opened the door, and stared at each figure in front of it. “Broken Heart,” he said, nodding down to the cat-person. Jacob then came back to Earie. “I thought I told you to stay away, Chuck.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, ., 0108, Gaston^^

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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Filed under **VIRTUAL, ., 0108, Heterocera^^, Lapara^, VHC City^

Safe means safe.

“Nice catch, mister. Know anything about Mister Lock locks by chance?”

“It’s ms., actually,” returned the lady fisherman. “Do you view fishing as a masculine sport young man, er woman?”

“Guess so. Maybe I just wanted an excuse to talk about locks. Because I know who you are. You are the keymaster, perhaps on a permanent break. ‘Gone Fishing’.”

Meanwhile, The Musician had given up attempting to play the nearby odd piano. Spilling water for keys. Stringy plants for piano strings. The American Standardbred horse Enola EM looks on amused.

He walks over to the small pond. “That her?”

“Yeah. What’s your name missus?”

“Chuckles. Like a clown. I was in the circus before earning the rank of keymaster. Keymeister is how we call it in the trade. But I can’t seem to teach the laypeople that. Would you like to see my clown face?”

“Oh sure,” replies Wheeler. “Wouldn’t we Musician?”

“Wouldn’t we what?” He had been distracted by the VHC Town skyline, trying to figure out where their “safe” plaza was in all that complexity. How did Wheeler find the keymaster out here so quickly?

“Take me back to your Collagesity and I’ll show you. Just send me a teleport invite after you return home. Now skidaddle.” Chuckles returned her attention to the wriggling fish she just caught. “I’ll bring this perch along as well. Maybe you can find someone to cook it for us over in your town. I can’t cook worth a lick. Can catch fish all day and all night but, you know how it is. Compartmentalization.”

“Sure, that’ll be fine Ms. Fisherman,” states Wheeler.

“Ms. Greentop,” the fisherwoman corrects. “Irish,” she adds.

“We have something to show you over there as well,” states Wheeler. “A painting we found near your shop. A puzzling one. Perhaps you can answer some questions.”

“Yes, in your town, yes. Not here. Too many ears. Ears are in hears.”

—–

“Which one bought her?” The Musician asks in confusion. He begins rummaging through his inventory.

“Me, of course,” returns Wheeler. “Who has all the money around here?”

“Yeah, I don’t see it. And I suppose you have the painting as well. That one was free, though.”

Wheeler checks. She has both. She makes sure the right group is activated, then rezzes. “Stand back,” she playfully warns.

“Oh wait. I have a funny one,” she then says, rearranging the objects. “Haha.”

Chuckles Greentop awakes, looks around. “That an actual honest to goodness Linden forest out there?” She points her rod toward the transparent front of the Blue Feather Club.

“Sure ’nuff is,” responds Wheeler. “And full of demons and other oddities. There’s even a fishing pond on the southern edge. Would you like to see?”

“Why not.”

“Musician, go over there to Collagesity West and change that Gloomy Gus into convex hulls. That should do the trick.” She returns her attention to Chuckles Greentop. “25 prims, Ms. Fisherman,” Wheeler scolds. “You come at a pretty price!”

“I’ve been around,” Chuckles Greentop responds.

“Ahem,” The Musician coughs. “The painting,” he prompts.

“Oh right. Well Ms. Greentop. Do you know anything about this painting beside you. The cat looks through a red door, but yet there’s a red door already opened. Two red doors, when there logically should only be one, it seems. We know you know about doors and how to get in and out of them. You must know about the red doors.” She looks over at The Musician, who stares back approvingly.

“It’s time to show my face,” Chuckles Greentop says instead. “If you look behind the door, you will see.”

—–

The Musician took a closer look after the change.

“Lame” was what he was thinking. But then the rest of the face transformed as well. They were frightened all the way back to VHC Town and their safe plaza. Lesson learned!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, ., 0108, Heterocera^^, Rubi^, VHC City^