Category Archives: 0209

Newgal

“It’s moreso now don’t you think?” speaks Jeffrie Phillips to sometimes/always companion Charlene Punk Brown, perhaps the best of all his girls. She puts up with a lot at the very least. “The hair, I mean.” He points to his own hair here between bites of the spinach pizza. “Blue. Whaddaya think?”

Charlene also steals a glance, trying not to be jealous. This *could* be her replacement. Why did she arrive so mysteriously in the middle of the night, as they say, on a plane originally bound for Starfish Sea, or Starfish Lake as some call it? Jeffrey said it landed just outside the town over the sim line in Siliconicus. He said he’d been meaning to put a small landing strip over there if he could only figure out how to position the anchoring prims properly, since it’s not technically his property but instead abandoned land — a lot of that in Siliconicus, which is commonplace in the beige highlands part of the continent. She *is* cute, probably as cute as she is. She’d also look good in that pink babydoll Jeffrey keeps around, she suspected. Maybe she should dye her own hair blue.

“Are (bite) you going to answer me or not, woman?”

“Woman?” Not now she isn’t. “Listen *man*–” but then bit her tongue as Jeffrey hesitated to take another bite, waiting for a lashing, which he knew he probably deserved. Sometimes he slips into old world talk, as his daddy use to say. Poor old dad: he hadn’t thought about him in a while, nor ma-ma. They didn’t approve of his playboy ways so he had to leave the family hearth. So long long ago at this point. Seems like a different lifetime.

“I’m sorry,” he ventured, then finished his bite.

“No — me. And in answer to your question it does look a little bluer. Is — she really the woman of your dreams?” She meant *in* your dreams but she let the statement stand, too ashamed to go back and correct it. She flushed a bit, even. He stared at her, trying to figure out how to get past this awkward moment so he could finish his pizza.

—–

He couldn’t stop thinking about her as they lay in bed later, bedposts not put up yet so nowhere to hang his tie and suit. They remained fully clothed. Charlene wasn’t anxious tonight to slip into that babydoll. She was just as worried as Jeffrey was excited. “What do you think she was looking up on the interwebs over there?” he asked his likewise restless partner. “Man About Time said she was a scholar of some kind, but he didn’t know what of.”

“*I’m* a scholar,” muffled Charlene, mouth to pillow. She moved so she could more easily speak to her partner. “Perhaps you got us confused with each other. Let’s try that quiz again.”

“Okay,” he relented, knowing he may or may not pass it.

“Alright, who’s your wife? An easy one to begin.”

He knew he shouldn’t say, “you” — that never seemed to work. He remembered the roses. He remembered the checkerboard face. Or chessboard face, take your pick. “Wendy,” he said.

“Right, and where did you get married? I’ll throw that in for a new wrinkle.”

“Er… Urqhart?” He remembered a house across the road from the Illuminati place.

“Correct. And *why* did you get married… to Wendy? And, say, not *me*?”

“Because…” He couldn’t remember that part.

“Yes?” She wasn’t going to drop hints, it seems.

He simply didn’t recall that he was recently dead and had been resurrected by the power of the vows. It happened a lot when he’d just returned home.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0027, 0209, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^

home again 02

I phoned up Charlene and told her I was back from the dead but I was married now and we couldn’t start seeing each other again despite the reborn part. She responded, “sure you are,” and hung up, busy with another man at this point, I believe his name is Stan. Stan Wallaby, a used truck salesman from Oakley. Anyway, where were we? Oh yes, the return of the late great Jeffrey Phillips. Thanks to Marty, thanks to Jefferson Thomas, thanks to: The Bill? Apparently. The Bill had chosen him to return. Would he now have to wear that little hat Wheeler wore when ruler? He hoped not. He was very vain about his looks and a tiny, bobbing hat on his head would ruin the whole girl magnet effect, he thought. Uncool to the max! Might as well be wearing a diaper. Goo goo ga ga, he thought here, reverting to the baby he truly was, being just reborn and stuff. He reached for a rattler but it turned into a snake, one of those hissing lawn ones planted there by Joanie. Or was it Hidi? Yes: Hidi. His wife. His summer gal, who he would toss away in the fall to return to, perhaps, Charlene, maybe Lois, or limber Tina Pretzel down at the Freak Show Village even who could do that thing with her body and also her tongue. Which brought him back to “Twin Peaks”: he had to decide *how* he died in order to prevent it from happening again, and quickly (!). He slipped on that gall darn log on one of the outer rim islands — he can’t even recall the name of the place he died — wait: Corton (he thought). Queen and King. Spread and Widen. Glen and Gould — Goldberg Variations: spread ’em out, make them the bookends to a wildly successful career that raked in a lot of gold, a lot of accomplishments, a lot of acclaim. Freedom? Where we we?

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0209, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^

00250209

She was on the retracted boarding ramp, looking toward the capsule. She had forgotten who she was again, sun shining brightly above her. She had her wings once more; she was ready to go. All she had to do was extend this ramp across the gap and walk in and sit down and hit fire. FIRE! She was up in the air, heading to Mars Mars. The one dreamed about by Bradbury and Dick and all the rest, but without the time-slips, the Fraudian ones. “Baloney,” she muttered, thinking back to her encounter with Baker Blinker who had left the scene, given up on AB for a spell. What I mean is that she went back to Meaux for a spell, so that AB would remember again. She didn’t have much time; fire would have to be involved, just as it was for her alternate (so far) persona of Jeffrey Phillips. The plan for Baker Blinker, who is, of course, Wheeler, was to go back to Meaux, like I said, and make the new fire spell so that when AB entered the rocket and hit “fire”, she would — again — remember who she was (core). Would it be too late if so? Baker Blinker, I mean, Wheeler wasn’t sure. But when she wrote thought it she knew that had to be the plan, canals be damned. A gap — AB *had* to remember. This was going from North to South, etc. etc. etc.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0209, Sansara^^

Marilyn Monroe type

“How are we going to get up *that* thing, Mr. Archer?” Toddles said in her wee, cute voice, so full of hope just moments before. Then they heard the roar and remembered. They’d forgotten for so long. The obstacle.

“How are you with barrels?” Archer returned, thinking of a solution. Toddles would go up first and then lower down a rope or something.

Toddles suddenly had a growing spurt, then another, then another to make 3 total. She was 5’10”. Then three more to reach the needed height to simply pick up tiny Mr. Archer (to her) and set him on top of the reverse falls along with the car, then step up herself via a large rock pictured above.

“Handy you can do that!!” he shouted up when they were back together on another rock.

“WHAT??” she replied from a great height, and then shrank down again.

“I said…!!”.

“No need to shout now, Mr. Archer. I’m right beside you here.

“Please… call me Peet,” he requested, seeing her quick dry herself as well. She had shrunk down three but not the remaining. She remained a pretty big girl. Pretty grown up. “We’ve been through a lot.”

At the “Picturetown 30 miles” sign he wondered if she was ever going to step back down those original three. She was not a toddler. In fact, she offered to drive after Niagara.


entering Picturetown

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0024, 0209, Canada, Canada/Picturetown, collages 2d, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Toppsity^

end of Tull? (skating away)

Not here, eh? thinks visiting Wheeler from over at NWES City. He said he’s *always* here, spinning around the place on that oh-so-handy skateboard of his. And I so wanted to thank him for the other day. Oh well… just have to tell the others here that I came by; leave it at that. Maybe next time. I’ll try to message the little fellow.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0209, New Island^, Springfeld

hunger games 02

“We can pin whatever we want to on you — *thug*. We can pin, let’s see (he looked at the sign in the distance), the Candy Stripper murders down at the hospital. Bad one there — had to haul in all the personnel at St. Marys *and* the strip club over there to solve that one. And it still ain’t solved!”

“Stop torturing me, Burt. You know I’m only in here for the food.” He would laugh except he couldn’t. More mesh. His voice was like charcoal in a BBQ pit: deep and smoky.

“Let’s see…” Burt pondered more grand theft larcenies, manslaughters, but especially murders. “How ’bout the PIG killings.”

“But… that’s you, Burt. You’re… a pig.”

“Yeah. 4 men, all in their 20s through 60s. All between 4’5 and 6’3. All Caucasians or African-Americans or robots. Or none of the above — imaginary I mean there. One was see-through as I recall. And he wore a see-through blouse; very revealing. Apples a bouncing.” He thought back to when Harrison Ford Jett came into the station, all bouncy and see-through. He revealed a lot. The murder of Johnsons Howard was solved largely to his efforts. Then he took the apples out from underneath the shirt and went away. Burt remains disillusioned to this day.

“What’s the point of this?” Thug Jamison Restaurant was getting tired. He’d eaten a lot since he was locked up for jaywalking last Tuesday. The fullness made him sleepy. Of course he broke the law on purpose just so he could eat Mama Ruby Tanner’s home cooking, yum. Right in front of Burt. He knew he’d be booked on the spot. He had nowhere else to go, no place good to eat. “And could you bring my bed back? I’m going to have a lie down while you keep running your mouth.”

“Oh I haven’t even *started* with you,” Burt admitted. His mind scanned an overhead view of the city for more crime locations. Yes, one of ’em or maybe even several of ’em would fit Mr. Restaurant perfectly, he he. Ones we can’t solve otherwise.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0022, 0209, Neptune, NWES Island^

confession

Afterwards he left Charlene upstairs and came back down to write. He like to wear his facelight while alone here, and also switch on the little lamp on the desk to illuminate his manuscript even further. Bright ideas deserve bright light, he pondered brightly. Like ideas were constantly flashing in his head, giving the impression or at least a hint of the all consuming ever-light, his alchemical goal. Union with Audrey, union with the light, Dr. Nightwing conveniently sucked away into a midnight black hole — or something. The light is flickering more off than on again.

—–

They ate leftover pizza for breakfast. “What’re you going to do today sweetest?” spoke Charlene the punk after finishing the first pie and sitting down with a second. Jeffrie breathed out. What *was* he going to do today? “We could go, I don’t know…” He couldn’t keep up the ruse. “*I’m* going to go walking — out in the woods around the town.” Charlene stared at him, tears forming in her eyes. “It’s never going to work between us.” “No,” came his quick response. She knew this was all about Audrey — he couldn’t stop yammering on about her last night. Okay, okay, she’ll accept this. She had a good time with Jeffrie. The sex was great! What a tiger. She voiced her opinion — her *certainty*. “Audrey?” he replied to this. “I guess.” On his part, he thought back to the highly illuminated manuscript and what he had written on it. I suppose one could equate it with a post of a blog type. Like this post here, actually. Yeah, that’s it. He was speaking to Charlene the punk and in the post at once.

“There’s — this doctor she met.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0021, 0209, Teepot^^

Multicolor

“A new town has arisen beyond the revolving tire, Cathy Love Peace Hippie Child. We must attempt to match its energy!”

“Sounds *great*!” the chipper hippie girl said, eyeing the namesake tower from her vantage point while following Rhiannon to the table with the magic cards. But she said to call her Golden.

—–

“Tsk tsk tsk. Oh dear. We better hurry.”

“Oh I feel *awful* again, Rhiannon.” Golden let the name slip go, given what just happened.

“Let’s start with a single.” She turned the just dealt card up.

—–

She sat in the middle of 4 and realized this was matching the energy.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0020, 0209, Corsica^^, Urqhart^

back in Storybrook…

“What is this place?” SEAN asked after accepting the teleportation offer from Marsha “Pink” Krakow. What *is* that girl up to now, hum? he asked himself before clicking the button. One way to find out.

“It’s the center. *The* center. Now look at where we are. The old Perch residence. Moved away, though, like so many others. Heard he’s over in Heaven’s Gate now.”

“*I* may be next, hmph,” responds SEAN “Green” Penn. “I’m *tired* of being moved all around town. First I’m down at Southside Bay in a teal cottage. Then I’m up in town again at a *green* one. Like my name — it all builds around that house now. Trouble is, I have memories of *both*. When I, er, went out to that island in the bay. You know the one.”

Marsha “Pink” Krakow didn’t know the one and said so.

“Oh, you know, with the kind of robotic lady with the different colored eyes. Like David Bowie.”

“David Whoie?”

“Bowie.”

“Oh, you mean Buie.”

“I meant what I said, girl. So, anyway, erm, she was there. On the island. I just row row rowed my boat over there.”

“Where did you get a *boat*?” Marsha responds.

“It was just there. Underneath the teal house. Or in the boathouse I suppose. *Inside* it. Downstairs inside… ohh.”

“*Anyway — can we get to why I brought you here?” Her voice was reduced almost to a whisper now.

SEAN looked around. “Where’s, um, *Olive*. She hasn’t been –”

“She’s up in the monastery for a while. Because, you know, that thing with the giraffe.”

“That’s just something she made up. She doesn’t want to hang around us any more. Thinks us *juvenile*.”

“Not true.” But was it true? “*Anyway*, speaking of Olive — glad you brought her up — because she showed me a *trick* before she left.

“Another one?” SEAN responded, use to such things.

“Yeah. So you’ve got your advanced menu on your viewer we told you to show a while back. Don’t you?” She stared at SEAN until he nodded. “Uh huh.” He then checked and breathed a sigh of relief that he’d actually done something they requested for a change, the crazy gals.

“Well, pull that down. Go to, um, *render*, then uncheck ‘volume’.”

“Okay. Trying to follow.”

“Ho. What is *that*?”

“That, my green friend, is Kraken Hill. And *that’s* what this town is trying to cover up — *has* covered up. That’s why everyone is moving away. It’s all baloney on the surface. Hogwash.”

“Watch your mouth, girl.” But then SEAN “Green” Penn kept staring around with volume unrendered, trying to take it all in. It made sense! This was truth she spoke.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0209, Corsica^^, Storybrook^

trees

From this angle she could barely see the top of the newcomer’s house over Jana Forest, this Pitch Darkly she’s heard so much about lately. Laughed at by other vampires in her husband’s bar so loudly that rumors have it he’s already moved away out of embarrassment — looking for land on the west side of the continent to settle down instead. But maybe the rumors are confusing recent Bena exile Barry X. Vampire with Pitch, Phyllis Phox considers, for Pitch was definitely still a vampire, or at least a wannabe one according to Ben. So goofy, though(!) Perpetually blood-splattered to name just one error: proper vampires do not roam about town with blood stains on their elegant, primly pressed clothes. She’d passed by his house several times now on her walks into the hills surrounding the town. No one there yet, and stuff that should be inside it according to her reckoning still outside cluttering up the yard. Good Bena has a privacy screen separating him from the rest of town(!). So that’s another strike against this Pitch Darkly fellow. Sloppiness in attire and decor all around. He won’t make it here — there.

Phyllis then looks just above Pitch’s disorganized spot at Mother’s Place perched on the now hidden green hill dominating Bena from the southeast. Polar opposite to the great castle out in the northeast corner of the sim, she knows (but, importantly, *not* the Northeast Castle this time ’round: that appellation still belongs solely to Hilling’s similarly positioned citadel). And the Whore Mother within, tended to by that poor, pitiful child of hers. Always forget the name, Phyllis Phox ruminates. Everyone just calls her kid. That’s what she answers to most of the time.

Katy, Phyllis Phox then remembers. Maybe she can shorten it to Kate when she grows up and, following Barry X. Vampire and others’ lead, forget about this place and move on. College is sometimes a turning point. But the Great Mother is now pushing for Bena to have its own, defeating the purpose in her mind. You go to college to get *away* from home. She certainly did.

She then looks more southward and tries to spot the tiny island in the middle of Danshire adorned until just several days back with a shack much like she grew up in — eerily so, she understands — with a mom tending to 3 other kids most of the time as well. And she had all the color drained out of her skin to blend in better at Bena after the marriage to her husband Ben, then the powerful werewolf leader before the Vampire Coup and the name change from Bennington.

Much to digest about town history, as it’s turning out(!).

No luck here. A little further up Queck Hill should do the trick.

Yes. There ’tis.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0018, 0209, Benangatron^, Corsica^^