Category Archives: 01

00290108

He had a new girl now. And, not coincidentally, a new director. Percy was her name, although some people call her Pauline. Some people don’t call her anything, afraid to say the wrong thing and suffer the consequences. Other people know her as Dean, which is apparently a woman’s name as well — didn’t know that. Some say she looks exactly like Jill Valentine from the Evil Residents game, and she does. But they aren’t the same.

Some say she has umbrella eyes, but that was instead Shelley Struthers, also dead, also an evil resident, or at least others say. All Marion Star Harding knows is that he is in love again, a new Valentine in his life, although he still dreams — day and night — about his old “cowgirl” Heidi. He can’t decide between a woman who’s dead who he can keep alive in his mind, and this woman here lying on the beach before him who’s perhaps dead but still living. A conundrum.

“Marion,” she calls over, getting up from the towel. She dare not take her bodysuit off else the flesh could crumble. It’s all that’s holding her together now. “I’ve got to direct another shoot over in Cass City. I’ve got to get going. Be a dear and start packing my bags.”

More time with Heidi coming up soon, then. Is he happy about it? He’s not sure.

(to be  continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0108, Nautilus, Upper Austra

Close enough.

A girl within. Looks like Jill Valentine but it’s not. And I’ve run into another girl named Valentine recently. Can’t remember where…

Oh, of course: *Faye* Valentine. With the gun. On the *other* Diagonal we’re currently examining.

Cowboy Bebop. Mimosa Lanes. Ur-parents. Still guiding (“We: here”). Hoooome cooking, Andy Griffith NC style.

—–

Marion “Star” Harding, cowboy for life, ponders the death of his lover, his *director*, in that awful explosion over in Paper-Soap. Oh Heidi — or whatever your actual name was — I will miss you deeply. I will miss the *money* coming in, because I was one of your favorites. You cast me in every film you directed, and even though I didn’t get every part (too obvious!), I got a good heap of ’em. We were together tonight, albeit briefly.

All we have are memories.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0107, Cass City+, Collagesity Fordham-, Heterocera, Lower Austra, Maebaleia/Satori, Nautilus, Upper Austra

like corn

—–

It was a Red Land, mix in a bit of yellow (“Yelloo!”), a kinder, gentler Axis for the modern agogo world of yesterday’s tomorrow, mix in a little propeller (whirl, whirl whirl!). Okay, let’s ditch the propeller cap actually. Here he is.

Bit of midriff showing but we’re working on it: we’ve called him Windmill Man, as he stands at the bottom of another Diagonal that acts as the axis for the Chalet subcontinent of Bellisaria. Bellisseria. This is the path to FREEDOM, starting at Brady Stream. I check nightly for name changes to the surrounding base sims.

The Diagonal moves upwards beyond Bellisaria into the Maebaleia continent, almost as hard to spell. And this is where we must begin tonight, because new things are happening in Cassandra — just off this Diagonal or affected by its energy. Developments continue…

It was a poor, shivering girl indicating that lawnmower guy Jacob I. was still alive and awake and kicking like a little baby here. Somewhere. Thank you. I said: thank you. Watch out! (swerve at last second)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0106, Bellisaria, Cass City+, Collagesity Fordham-, Continent 03, Continent 04, Lower Austra, Maebaleia/Satori, Nautilus, Yaya Land+

resident but perhaps not evil

He waited for the security orb to kick in but it never did. He was INSIDE. Triple number for Hooktip, or close enough — 1 off.

Who to celebrate this occasion with? Why his wife of course: Martha Lamb. Or maybe (since animations are limited)… Shelley. Yes: Shelley.

She was, as usual, speed reading the famous or infamous red book, take your pick. It’s also flame retardant she’s heard.

“Hi Shelley. Sorry to hear about your castle.”

“That’s okay (read read read). There’s another one already there (read read). And Jacob’s I. (read) is asleep back on the bench at the Prog Rock Museum (read read read read read).”

“So I’ve heard.” Sid wanted to ask the obvious. Was this his daughter? ‘Nother one?

Sid was gone. Shelley was all grown up, having been through her Firesign Theatre period (“Piera”) and loving it. “Uncle Meatwad” — soo funny. Queer as well, but mainly funny. Both at once. It was all in the book…

… which was in her eyes now.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0105, Heterocera, VHC City

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 SL, 0029, 0104, Canada, Canada/Picturetown, Google Street View, Heterocera, Pond District, Rubi

00290103

“Oh it was just awful, Zach. That *look* in his eyes.”

Always the same, Zach thinks. She repeats herself over and over about their description, these “walking dead” as she calls them.

“But then the last dream I had about David Bowie was *fun*. Cute umbrella people — New People they called themselves, but come from a flooded country. They turned into umbrellas — that stopped the rains. Very cute,” she reinforced. “And David Bowie was their leader (!). Except he called himself… umm.” She couldn’t recall the name Bogota, because that could put a kind of damper on the cuteness. Because: another walking dead obviously.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0103, Cass City+, Heterocera, Maebaleia/Satori, Rubi

not a full deck

She sat as far apart from him on the bench they shared as possible without being *too* obvious about it. Along with looking just plain awful he also reeked of dead flesh — death itself. Yet he talked as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He was chattering on and on about his club — Jim’s Club, before he insisted that you add an A. to it, a Brown, or an A. Brown if you wish. But not plain ol’ Jim; not after his club sank after, first, Your Mama and Keith B. left, and then Lena herself. She’d never known him as Jim A./Jim Brown/Jim A. Brown, since she hadn’t seen him since the fall of the Club — last fall she believes. She only knew him as Jim.

“Jim,” she began innocently, trying to excuse herself and daring to insert his name in his soliloquy. Bad mistake.

He waited for more which didn’t come, then: “Jim. That’s it? As in Jim’s Diamond Club, red and black together to make something not quite as good as either separately? *Jim*?”

“Yeah: Jim,” she repeated. “Isn’t — that your name?” She was sweating now. She shouldn’t have wore her fur costume she was going to sing in tonight. Probably brought back bad memories for Jim (Jim?) and his club — same outfit she wore at times there, she now recalled.

He stared at her: no life atall in his eyes. “Call me that again and you’ll be as dead as me. Get it?”

Lena Horned got it. She just let him talk and ramble on about the past after that. Finally he’d unwound everything he wanted to say to her. He got up. “Well, ’bout time to head back into the grave, honey. I thank you. I think you’ve — saved me.” He left the park, sauntering up the street he came down from, into the sunset. She stayed on the bench, wondering what just happened. She better get back to her apartment and talk to Zach Black about all this, before she forgets. Was this all a dream? she wondered, snapping her fingers and finding they just pass through each other. Yeah: dream.

Thank Gods. She takes the tension out of her shoulders and heaves a deep sigh and wakes up, Zach’s arm draped  about her midsection. Her new man. Her new *club* man.

“The past again?” She’d been fidgeting for a while, keeping him awake. He contemplated prodding her but just let the dream unwind. Always the sigh at the end to wake up. He knew it wouldn’t last long; never did. The dead can’t leave their grave for too long.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0102, Cass City+, Maebaleia/Satori

contemplating blackness

Lena Horned waits at the park for everything to rez in. Then she takes a picture to remember it by. The day she met Jim A., aka Jim A. Brown aka Jim Brown. But don’t call him (just) Jim. What would they talk about? A new gig at his old club? Hardly. Jim A.’s a washup; she’d moved on, starting with the success of what turned out to be her signature song, “The Ballad of Stormy Daniels.” Who knew a court transcript would so successfully transfer to song lyrics (!?). But she’s having trouble following up on her initial success. Repetition for gain of fame is not the same as mutable creativity. Ask David Bowie: she’d been getting into his music lately, determining he’s half black himself. Has a black wife, his soul mate. Lena Horned had met her once at a fashion show. She had wisdom in her eyes. She was a deep soul — just like David.

There: a picture.

And there: Jim A./Jim A. Brown/Jim Brown.

“Hiya.”

But Jim wasn’t fully formed and apparently only Lena could see it. Instead: walking dead. Too late to run.

“Hello.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0101, Cass City+, Maebaleia/Satori

meteor from space

“Maybe there are good Boos and bad Boos,” offered up Harrison Ford Jett, still learning about and absorbing the impach. His precious Bluebird!

“Maybe,” said back brilliant Fern Stalin, his counterpart, his mentor for tonight. But she kept thinking of Mistery Island and how to get back there. “You better get back to her; she’ll be waiting. And you better cook up a pretty good explanation why you suddenly had to leave her side. And don’t mention Boos!”

“Okay.” They split after that, not leaving any firm plans for a future rendezvous. It’s possible, Fern realized, that she’d seen the last of Harrison. Or at least those apples. Decision paths lie just ahead…

“Don’t be a stranger,” she cryptically ended and was gone.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0117, Boos, Canada, Canada/Tungaska, collages 2d, Collagesity Fordham-, Lower Austra, Nautilus

left and right

“It probably started here,” stated Fern, showing the origin of the Boos. “In, let’s see, collage #13 — unlucky 13 in this case — of the Boos series. Boos came from Boos — Illinois that is.”

“That’s next to Indiana and its famous Dunes,” chipped in Harrison Ford Jett, eager for knowledge tonight.

“Correct. Anyway, the Boos come from the planet Mars. There was a failure — in Tungaske as we’ll keep calling it — to create a working, proper *sphere* by several of its artists, a joint effort. Sphere of Space if you will. An abnormality set in; in ways these are the two moons of Mars, Phobos and Deimos, terror and dread, explaining the faces. Rust probably represents Ida B. Wells from Rust College, who was a champion of freedom: diagonal (echoing some former talk they had concerning Bellisaria). The Boos ate the freedom, took it away from them. The Boos are the elitists, also explaining the white-wash color. They proceed horizontally beyond the edge and into the world itself. Evil has been let loose — again.”

“Who is the man in the water?” queried Harrison. He was a band member on the run, trying to get as far away from Bluebird as possible tonight, an ironically named character it seems. Bluebird of misery instead, misery and mystery in one. Mistery. So said Fern.

“Man on the fringe; man watching fringe, man *from* Fringe. Peter I believe. Watching the Boos do their evil doings, the Rust girl perched precariously on the rust colored cliffs — gone. He sticks, lets see, he (as the Spaceman) sticks his hand in a hole and it is gone — just below where the girl *use* to be. The missing hand symbolizes the missing girl, hmm. And missing pieces of Mars, moons.”

Harrison glances sideways. He’s eager to get to the next collage in the Boos series and be done with it. Boos attack! But… well, let’s just let Fern talk for herself.

“And here we are.” They spread out from each other, just as the Boos, black and white, spread out in the sky above Tungaske, (numbered buildings) ready for conquest.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0116, Boos, Canada, Canada/Tungaska, collages 2d, Collagesity Fordham-, Lower Austra, Nautilus