Category Archives: 0116

February 15, 2020 · 6:47 am

away

“I wish you didn’t have to go off to war again, Jack.”

“Me too,” he wanted to say, but instead uttered: “Duty calls. Heterocera needs me — us.”

“So you’ll take Tronesisia with you?”

“Of course. Unless you think you need her more here for your services.”

“No no,” his wife Kate McCoy insisted. “She gives me great pleasure but I can find that elsewhere. There’s a little shop in the village that sells somewhat acceptable alternatives.”

“Good.” He pauses to think of the likely alternatives and shakes his head a bit. The price they pay for war, specifically 680 lindens or so in this particular aspect — last time he checked. “I’m sorry again that I have to do this.”

“Well. Summerhill Nova *stressed* that Heterocera isn’t dead and that VHC City can continue on as a powerful ally for us. *And* as they face a threat from the west I suppose there’s no alternative than to help out a — friend? Can we call Summerhill now a true friend? She tried to kill our mother, brother, and niece and nephew. And that was only in the last year!”

“She’s assured me that’s all in the past,” Jack Snow reinforced, thinking several weeks back to the, hopefully, final attempted assassination of a family member at the hands of Clan Nova. Poisoned ketchup. Luckily, Nephew Jimmy was a mustard guy. “We can put all that behind us. If we–”

“–help them,” Kate McCoy finishes for him. Her makeup applied, she gets up to accompany her husband to the awaiting battle ship. So much more needed to be said. Why the Fries with Cheese Church again, of all the religions Summerhill could have chosen? The one that would obviously lead to conflict.

(to be continued)

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December 13, 2019 · 9:34 am

another visitor

“Aahh, found it. This must be the portal.” A squeaking occurred. Rules of Rose looked around for a mouse. Then she remembered Norris. Just outside. He was speaking in his high register way. She adjusted for the tone, understood what was being said. He was asking about the portal.

“Just found!” she shouted through the window pane, painfully confusing in the double transparency with the Live Oak tree limb. “Why don’t you —” She was going to ask why didn’t he come in and see for himself. Then she remembered the rule. The rule *she* imposed, after all. No entering private residences by the wee’s. But *she* was here. She had that right — another rule. “Here.” She angled the laptop toward the window. “Can you see it now?” She understood that Norris requested she hold it in her hands up to the window. “Now how am I going to *type* on it if I’m *holding* it?” she inquired, staring out at him with a grimace. She edged the laptop a little closer — it was in danger now of falling off the side of the table if care wasn’t taken. Which it will be. Rules of Rose was always careful when entering residences, a seldom used loophole. But this was a special case. She had to find a certain object or thing inside the portal, which was the game in front of her, she realized. Gunn Mobile Trailer Park: Your Darkness. The gunn itself?

You may remember Rules of Rose as Blue Berry Girl from the last photo-novel, in disguise for the sake of a plot. She’s usually in disguise. This time ’round she gave her purple color to the bear.

Half an hour until the 1st service held at neighboring St. Merry’s Church ends and Herbert Gold returns to his new home. Probably not enough time to find the needed object. She’ll have to come back. Might as well end now….

—–

An object appeared in the middle of St. Merry’s church out of nowhere. Many parishioners later reported that they heard a *plop*, as if it fell from the sky.

Herbert Gold recognized what it was but said nothing.

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September 30, 2019 · 5:50 am

Fi 01

Dadada Again (!). And I can buy for nothing. Yes, Herbert Gold must stay in this West End for a spell. Try to reconcile with the present wife but, if not, there’s always red. Redshirt red, redhair red. Something red. 4th.

How exciting! West End still has magic, probably due to the lingering effects of WES. From beyond the grave.

—–

“Don’t you think WES could be Joplin, Hucka D.?”

“Could be, baker b.”

—–

Rentals? ponders Herbert Gold, spotting the sign while heading back from the road’s terminus. Sounds intriguing. Maybe April Mae will like it better here than that box in Dewey.

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July 20, 2019 · 7:29 am

knowledge

“The white whale escaped, of course. The famous Moby Prick of the Deep South. But the blue whale didn’t fare as well. Caught in the Blue Feather Sea. Some say she *became* the sea, one equals the other. Do you understand, older Keith B.?”

“Absolutely not, Kate McCoy.”

“Good to admit, thank you. The cube is the sphere is the sea is the whale.”

“Maybe we just better unfreeze or unthaw The Man and go. Let him explain it all. After all: he was there.”

“Indeed. Let’s go get him.” They enter the “aquarium”. Dog joined them there.

—–

“The cube is the sphere is the sea is the whale,” Kate McCoy pronounces clearly in the direction of The Man. He begins to stir inside his plastic cocoon.

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May 28, 2019 · 6:16 am

4n1

“Blue Feather Douglas is — or was — a monster,” Agent 47 typed in his journal. “I want no more part of his funhouse. Like Cube (link), like Sphere (link). The Elmaer pyramid and its missing top is a joke. Back to the Blue Feather Sea!”

—–

“Agent 47 missed the point,” Agent 48 wrote in his journal 2 days later while sitting beside his still warm body. “The continent is the joke, Blue Feather (Sea) included!”

—–

“The continent is not a joke,” wrote Agent 49 1 day later. “Blue Feather is real and meaningful. Cube… Sphere. Just not yet…”

—–

Agent 50 took over just 3 hours later. Too many dots.

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March 16, 2019 · 9:41 am

Orient.

“Well, that was interesting (*burp*). Any more editions of this magazine, Librarian Bean?”

—–

“We call her Gassy.”

“You mean Grassy,” the male Baker responded to the female Baker, who just rode into town. Collagesitytown.

“No. Gassy is different. Tillie I think her actual name is. *That’s* the one I want to play. That’s the one I want to start with. If Karl isn’t available.”

“Lemme check.” Baker Bloch opens the Big Book of Avatars in front of him. “I have perhaps as much as 50 percent assigned to myself.”

“Of course.”

“And Wheeler has another big chunk. Perhaps 25 percent.”

“Yep.”

He keeps flipping. “That leaves 25 percent to divide up with the rest of the, let’s see, 8 remaining core avatars.”

Baker Blinker counts them off on her 10 fingers. “You, me, Hucka, Karoz, Tropp, Wheeler — or Treelor I suppose, Grassy — *not* Gassy again (smile), then Spongeberg the Destroyer, then Roger Pine Ridge, then, let’s see, Lockfry. How many is that?”

“Counting them in my head now (pause): that’s it (!)” He gently shuts the dusty tome, looks out at the Rubi Woods, then back. “Well, just think about it. I’m so happy you and Karoz have found a way to work yourselves back into the ever evolving Collagesity storylines.” He looks her over; notes the differences from before. “Partial assimilation, eh?”

Baker Blinker nods. “It is. We may yet be able to return Collagesity to its glorious past — defeat Wheeler at her own game.”

“Wrestling?”

“Maybe even tennis.”

“Polo.”

“Marco.”

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January 5, 2019 · 11:49 am

Jungle

“I’m telling you, Baker. This trees has eyes (!).” Ruby Fantasie turns. “And what is that ridiculous outfit of yours suppose to be?”

“I’m cold,” Baker states plainly, then fakes a shiver.

“Cold?? It must be 95 here! Take that silly thing off.”

“I… I haven’t got any underwear beneath it.” Baker blushes slightly.

“Well. I’ll turn my head until you find another outfit. We must talk!”

—–

“You scared Bob, Baker. That’s not a good sign.”

“Maybe I just took too long to change and he got bored.”

“No, there’s something more. I have other things to show you now.” She points down the clearing. “Geraldine. Counterpart to Bob. Let’s see what she does with you.”

—–

“Easy going fellow, eh?”

“But she’s not heading toward you still. Sideways at best.”

“What does that mean?”

“Let’s go to the waterfall,” Ruby Fantasie then declares. “Beyond the pool which is sort of a decoy, I suppose. You think: there can’t be another, hidden pool this close to an exposed pool. That kind of thing.”

“Lead the way.”

“We have to backtrack a bit.”

—–

There she is, Baker thinks. I feared I lost her again.”

—–

“The exposed pool,” Ruby Fantasie explains. She turns. “Then over there, behind some rocks: the hidden one.”

—–

“What now, Ruby?”

“We go down.”

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October 28, 2018 · 12:58 pm

the new black

For his first assignment as an official member of Pot-D, Duncan Avocado was asked to check behind Indigo in investigating the Rhodenwald sim, somehow right across the *road* from Rhode Gallery just to the west. Only sim beginning with “Rhode” besides one called Rhode Islands, which is apparently under construction. Per the usual start of a particular sim investigation, he decided to teleport into its 128/128 center (standard landing point through generic search of any SL sim), but was instead directed to a preset landing point about 16 meters southwest, at the entrance to a Halloween themed maze.

He takes a seat on the bench next to his landing position.

Duncan had no desire to try to solve a maze tonight. From his notes, he knew that Indigo, through her alternate, human self Vanille (who you may remember from the Diagonal Alley scenes in Collagesity novel 10) had already investigated it and found nothing of heightened interest. Duncan was looking for new angles, per designated Pot-D leader Angus Nuffin’s suggestions.

Spying a monorail station not far behind the bench, he decides to take a car ride — Indigo didn’t mention doing this. He whirls around and around a number of Meat City sims before passing through Rhodenwald again and then ending at another station in Baylors Haunt to the south. It was at this point Duncan looked at the inworld map to see exactly where he was, and noticed an avatar at *128/128* Rhodenwald, a place he knew visiting avatars could not directly teleport into now. Thinking back to former synchs involving center of sims, especially the black man who appeared at 128/128 Gaston in, erm, Collagesity novel 7 (prompting the end of that particular story in Sansara’s Snowlands), Duncan decides to go check out this new developement, and spots an antlered, loincloth wearing figure seemingly hiding behind a cart loaded with pumpkins. 128/128: center of sim. *Had* to be there on purpose.

Checking the profile, Duncan saw the avatar was named *Black*, and also had a second life partner named the same. Surnames each. And, in fact, owner of quite a number of parcels in the sim, including the one with the maze and the pumpkin cart. This was the owner… and later Duncan figured out he was signaling offworld to someone. Not him but his mate. But why in this particular spot?

Duncan continued to scan the figure, thinking his user AFK. But, no, the avatar moves from behind the cart and faces Duncan directly. He is aware of his presence for certain. Black man confronts black man.

Duncan had found something.

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August 8, 2018 · 8:10 am

naming (it begins)

“You know, Bendy. I suppose it’s really time we talked about how we got here.”

“*Much* better than Mabel’s house, I’ll tell you that. Lots to do in this town. Bar around every corner if we ever tire of Bar Lemon. Which I haven’t.”

“I didn’t ask you how you liked it here… in comparison to New Island. I’m asking you about how we got here.”

“Dunno that part,” his robot companion returned. “Just woke up one day and here I was.”

“It can’t be that easy,” Fisher gruffed, shaking his head. “I personally think I remember something else — don’t think it was just a dream.”

“Well?” prompted Bendy. “Spill it.”

—–

“It started that day we went over to the park to play and then spotted Mr. Yellow in the distance: looking different. We went up to him and saw that weird-y combo thing, looking like it was pissing on the ground. Red liquid instead of the usual yellow, but not blood I don’t think.”

“Soda,” offered Bendy. “I tested it when you turned your back to the camera.” Fisher winced toward him, making Bendy shrug. “Couldn’t resist.”

“Anyway, I went back to Bar Lemon down the wall — that’s when you decided to visit the beach scene — but as soon as I sat down at the bar and started watching Molly warm up, things started happening. Mustered and Catchup were on break…”

“When *aren’t* they,” groused Bendy. “At least when Natsu Lemon isn’t around — the boss.”

“Which is becoming more frequent; that could be part of it as well.” He put his hands behind his head. “But it was something about the dance that… awoken me. Part of me that was, er, dormant before.”

“Sex?” Bendy joked. “You’ve never had any problem there.”

“‘Course not,” Fisher reinforced to his sometimes erotic pal — just every once in a while. “Something else. The dance told a story. The *music* told a tale. I believe the song was called ‘OTR.'”

“‘On the Run’? responds Bendy quickly. “Over the Rainbow’? I have both of them in my database. If you wish, I could even sing both at once.”

“No. No more wacky combos for a while.” But then Fisher realized Bendy was totally on to something in his prescient manner. It *was* a combo of those songs. *Another* wacky combo, two in one day. And perhaps intimately connected. Yes, it had to be so. He blew out a large puff of air. A chill also passed through his body.

“So anyway,” he began again after the reflective pause, “I started remembering stuff about the spaceship. About the regeneration. Dr. I.C. Yourinsides.”

“She prefers Dr. Ice Cream lately,” corrects Bendy. “But: spaceship?”

“Yes. We were taken away from New Island and then placed here. This *new* New Island.”

“That’s a horrible name. Why don’t you just name it after yourself.”

“Why don’t *you*?”

“OK,” acquiesced Bendy. “Lord Bendington the Third’s Island it is.”

Fisher shakes his head again. “No, let’s just use your original suggestion. Name it Fishers Island. Or maybe just Fisher Island. Either one… 1/2 and 1/2. Like a fisherman or several fishermen live here, or were seen here. Fishing or something, I suppose.”

Bendy splashes around water in his pool. “Alright.”

“Now about the spaceship…”

(to be continued)

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May 20, 2018 · 10:02 am

centerpiece

Martian Mabel so desired to remain Queen of Collagesity on “Earth”, but she knew she had other responsibilities for now. New Island would stay an always perceived/felt aberration, to her and others, unless she came here and helped resolve the whole situation. This morning she invited closest confidant and former Mission resident Turchin McGurchin over for counsel; her right hand man in many ways. The Mission project had been aborted and Precious Snowflake’s Rainbow Sphere files moved to a safer location.

“Roger Pine Ridge represents a problem,” Mabel continues. “He’s looking for them.”

Turchin McGurchin tears off another piece of his cheese croissant and gobbles it up quickly, like someone else would do it for him if he didn’t act fast. Mission training in effect here. “Roger is useless,” he then says, mouth still full and chewing away at too big a chunk for its space. “Our joint user Baker B. had to move the whole Sunklands operation from Ink, Arkansas to Ink, Missouri because of him, but to no avail. He tried pushing him into the big sink there — no good again. He unwisely gave away a server to Sunklands Ink in Marked Tree, Arkansas and now needs it back. The Reality Module of the blog is currently inoperable. Not even Dr. I.C. Yourinsides can help.”

“But we’ll need her later.” Mable pauses, looks over at Annie’s nudes displayed in Swanson’s Art Gallery next door to her right. Turchin follows her stare. “We’ll have to cut them out of the picture.”

“Which one?” the grizzly old man ponders. “You mean Annie’s pictures as a whole? You mean the *bits*?”

Mabel reconsiders. “Yes,” she finally speaks.

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