“I don’t guess I’ll ever go back, Wheeler. It’s all too *embarrassing*.”
“Oh snap *out* of it. Let’s get some pictures of these blue buggers and get outta here.”
And next time we travel together brush your *teeth* why don’t you!”
A mystery, Wheeler. One of the Blue Tinkers has disappeared while trying to open a Coke. This must be the work of…”
“*Peppi*” both exclaim together.
“The Man(n) is not coming tonight, Charlie. Still — I’ll keep an eye on SEAN’s Southside Bay residence for signs of change.
Change, thinks Charlie Banana behind her, just finished with one. She’s *white* now and she talks of signs.
“He’s got a boat, Charlie. A row boat.”
“And he’s heading right toward us!”
Kate McCoy always left the table to (softly) play the piano when there was after-dinner talk of war.
“Heterocera is *not* dead,” spoke Summerhill Nova to his right. “We can carry on. The Sister sim will remain strong — I’ll make sure of it my liege.”
“Good, good,” the person at the head of the table spoke. “I won’t worry any longer about that direction. I trust you with the matter.”
He turned to his left. “And you, Walter.”
“Um hmm?” The tree being’s voice was hollow and husky.
“What say your people about the matter? About the changes in VHC City?”
“As long as Bob Dylan’s okay with it we’re okay with it.”
“Alright, then”. Jack looked straight ahead.
But the CB Dylan Dresser containing the other Snow at the table didn’t immediately respond. Then they realized the Manster within had gone to the wrong dimension — again.
(to be continued?)
I was putting up birdhouses today on my new property, too lazy to even change out of my Purple (and) Bear costume. Maybe that *was* my identity here, though. *I* am the Purple (and) Bear. Perhaps I own both this place (Sanctuary Point, after the sim plus the location description) and the old quarry. Or maybe the old quarry is where I come from. In the past. Where the mist got me. Maybe mist with a “y”; maybe capitalized but maybe not. Maybe the mist doesn’t like you capitalizing it in writing. Maybe it exacts its toll even a bit more if you do so. I must be careful. But yet — what could be wronger than the curse I’m presently under! A purple bear! Banished from my circle of friends. Confined to an old quarry and, now, a neighboring peninsular point far far away from a societal center. It’s out here away from the capital that Rosehaven’s *myst*eries are fully revealed; uncloaked. I must be vigilant for more changes.
The piping voice, sounding of helium, was far far away yet somehow quite near. I looked around — no one here.
I then spotted him in the giant live oak tree, the centerpiece of the property actually. Beside the birdhouse I had just set up on one of its massive, sprawling limbs.
It took him a short while to start forming actual sentences and just stop chirping greetings (maybe the creature was part bird?) but I eventually got out that he thought the house he sat beside was too small for his needs. Or the rest of his clan. The wee ones.
The next time he showed up he brought along architectural drawings. Turns out this was his land as well as mine, or so he claimed.
Before DJ-ing at Regaltown’s fabulous 50th Anniversary Man on the Moon shindig, Grey Scale Kimball just had to buy that yellow purse she had her eyes on at Maraschino. But it meant she could only spin Dark Side of the Moon that night and not the light one.
“There, there Sport,” Uncle Barnacles rattled. “Ship’s gonna come *any* day now.”
“It’s been *five years*,” his hound speaks droopingly. “I’m tired of perpetual motion.”
“There, there. Now, now.”
Black Rain (old ship) will do for now. Craighead Phillips, wearing a combined option 1 and 2 look until the polling’s closed, applies facelight and heads to sea. Patterns he’ll examine today. Maybe walk on the bottom but maybe not. Bottom writing.
“So long, Unk!” he shouts back while steaming forward.
“That ship ain’t going *nowhere*,” Sport slops. “Corralled.”
“Five years,” Uncle Barnacles slips. “Any day now,” he then adds, rocking and staring while the ship also rocks in place.
“I can’t quite see the top of Greentop from this chair, Huma. I’m… disappointed.”
“It’s fate,” countered Green Squirrel’s wife laying on the bed. “The Julia House simply had to be here in this spot, though. Removed from Collagesity to give Baker Bloch and his friends and family almost 200 prims now to work with. But also needed here to *fill* a prim level to the brim to protect Baker Bloch’s Yarn Shop. Rosehaven isn’t it?”
“You know it is, wife of mine.”
“Yes. Because… let’s see. I’m Wheeler in this situation, right?”
“And I’m Baker. Baker Bloch. Let’s go outside and sit on Greentop and enjoy the view,” Green Squirrel suggested.
“166 draw, Huma. The castle pops into view. Complete with a Yarn Shop now. Right on Yarnby.”
“Fate,” Huma reinforced. She looked around. “There use to be so much here in this sim, Green Squirrel. So full of life. Now: nothing. Just us. I think we’re the only ones that live in Asha. Correct?”
“Correct dear wife. Just us and the hills.” He lays back. “And the stars.”
“I’m going to explore those hills over there again tomorrow, husband. Last month I found some scissors. Maybe something else will pop up.”
“We can dream.”
There he is in person, the hiding Axis thinks excitedly. Famed SL explorer Baker Bloch, about to pass into Elderglen and exit Fern. This is my chance!
Then in the Elderglen Infohub, Baker Bloch was again surprised, this time by the clear indication that famed SL explorer Magellen Linden had already visited the newly risen Nascera continent.
On the opposite wall, a frog with an interesting golden orb placed in front of it.
Baker tries his hand at playing a lute sitting on a stage in the corner of the Infohub’s main room. To his complete surprise, he subsequently strums a beautiful, complex tune of short duration. Ahh, but it must just be the magic of the place, and not any latent talent showing through.
A man walks into the infohub. Baker’s complex music grinds to a halt.
Baker watches him pass straight through the infohub, not glancing toward him, and exiting through the back door.
… but there was no one on the back porch. From its northwest corner Baker then spies the broken teleporting machine — one day too early.
Axis’ plan had worked! The black king strikes again.
Jacob I. takes off his straw boater hat to *see* better. He’s sitting inside the traditional or original version of the Edwardston Station Gallery, located not far south of the famed Kerchal Woods which he also wishes to visit. The Greenup series comprising the lowest floor of the cubic 6 story structure is not present in Collagesity these days. Thus the main reason for Jacob’s visit here. He checks his diamond rolex watch found in a VHC City dumpster dive once more. 1:22:14 AM Standard Linden Time. He’s got several hours still before his user has to go to work. Plenty of time to get some work done of his own.
He enters mouseview (Big Eye). He has 360 degree vision now. With zoom he doesn’t have to move from his chair to examine several more collages.
The resolution is lowered in comparison to the actual collage, but he compensates for this. Greenup collage no. 5, he thinks to himself. This is where true collage and true animation begins for baker b. Two things in one. Martin from ‘The Simpsons’ holds a brazil flag atop a small, grassy mound imported from Greenup, Oklahoma. The background for the picture is Greenup Gill in the Lake District of England, the setting for almost all Greenup series collages. The brazil flag is revealed/held high. Sugar’s home. *My* home. Am I still a Gastonite? he asks himself. Back to the collage. He needs to get to the Big Eye in the series tonight if he can. Himself.
He checks his inventory for a needed copy of “Floydada” to start reading the Lime section, its 4th and last part.
But he can only find “Floy*dodo*”, which does him no good.
Cursing, he realizes he’ll have to ring up his new friend Cardboard Derek Jones for a copy. “Maybe I should just ask Baker Bloch to rez the entire series within Collagesity so it’s easier to reach,” he says aloud. “Cardboard also said another version called House Greenup, a Cape May structure, contained the book. Use to be over in Asha. Was there anywhere else they could put it in the meantime?”
Greenup 11 collage, Jacob I.’s intended goal for tonight. He didn’t make it.