Category Archives: 0211

x’s and o’s

Goodbye Ant Castle at the end of Eleph’s Trunk. I feel like I hardly knew ya.

The only related castle remaining on The Trunk is Harrison Ford Jett’s, whose enhancing apples were recently mentioned in relation to a city crime. The City now. But was he suspected perpetrator or victim in a series of 4? And is he truly a man or a woman? Perhaps it doesn’t matter; let’s go with it doesn’t matter.

“Sure you can stay with me, Ant. Until you get your 6 feet back on the ground.”

“Thanxxxx!”

—–

That taken care of, let’s move back to The City and the Happy Travels Travel Agency…

“Hellloooo. I’m ready to go on vacation. Hide away again.” It was typical of Hidi to do so; in her genes, one could say. Speaking of which…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0022, 0211, Apple's Orchard, Corsica^^, Gaston^^, Northwest, NWES Island

magic shop

“Yeah, I’ve got one like it back home,” Jeffrie Phillips speaks about the geode on the mantlepiece before him. ‘Cept mine is pink and and *maybe* a tiny bit smaller, maybe.” Much smaller, he thinks here. But I like it just as much. Not everything has to be *big*, pheh. Except in — well, he’s got that department covered anyway, he he. He can always lord that over the people he meets. The girls flock to him, Charlene the punk being only the latest in a long line. Too bad she liked the catacombs. I was hoping I could get rid of her that way. But her mettle has been put to the test and she survived. Round 2 coming up — only about a 1/3rd make it to round 2.

“Do you know what you have to do?” Jeffrie Phillips knew that David A.B.’s diamond-like brain lie within this new host with voice deep and bass. He couldn’t look him in the whites of his eyes. This never happened.

“Um.” Jeffrie instead looks down at his shoes randomly scuffing the floor. “Sure.”

“You must coordinate the two places, there and here. This is a connector. Take it and place it with the other one. Make sure they face each other. You know the rest.”

Jeffrie Phillips didn’t know the rest but he could guess. Alchemical sex, large to small, or one inside the other. Maybe he shouldn’t have lied about the size. He decides to tell the new host. “Listen, um, Jim.”

But Jim would have nothing of it. “Coordinate!” he demanded, which made Jeffrie Phillips quickly gather up the green geode and high tail it outta there.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0021, 0211, Teepot^^

labyrinth at the Temple of TILE

It was an interesting color pattern and one she would end up studying for many years to come.

Now if I could only get the deity upstairs to speak something sensible. “I” just doesn’t cut it.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0020, 0211, Corsica^^, Urqhart

one red

Especially before the introduction of Corona-V tall stouts into the local bar, the red topped town church at 56 Rose Lane was a way for people to set aside their different realities and gather together to pray toward a unifying deity most often called God. But, as we know, David A. B. was his “real” name, and he worked somewhere in the aether above Corsica Prime, making sure the right people got placed in the right spots on this continent, the other mainland masses be damned. We also know that Stranger Creek sim just off the northern coast was not one of his best works — a cock-up he called it on this here blog for all to witness. A cockamamie plan I added just afterwards, having been to the spot through the avatar known as Illuminatus, and also Arthur Kill. Yes, I, baker b., played both roles, as I always do on these nightly excursions in the virtual reality most often called Our Second Lyfe. Or, individually, Your Second Lyfe or My Second Lyfe. Because, you see, we are all experiencing different (virtual) realities when we come here. And that, I think, is what I’m trying to illustrate with Marsha and SEAN here. They exist in *similar* realities, sharing, for example, a church to go to in town. But — yes — reality is breaking down now due to the, ahem, beer. The local bar is also open on Sunday mornings for some inexplicable reason, but everything is to go these days, including the beer. In short, people are drinking at home this delicious but highly intoxicating brew and forgetting all about the gathering, the worshiping, the unity. They are all separated in their individual spheres, Marsha’s Second Lyfe over here and SEAN’s over there and “3rd wheel” Olive’s even different from either. Same with Mr. Fix It artist Gene Kelley, same with Lester the police car mechanic, and anyone else we’ll run into in Storybrook during our present story. The brook flows rapidly but with different currents. Currents. Each is row row rowing their boat to a different set of islands in the bay. And that boat, those islands, keep shifting around.

Inside the church, the lone occupant feels pleased at his work. Marty is a kind of God as well, one that wants to replace the starless black Bible with something red. And so it will come to pass, he declares. However, the real God has allowed this placement as well. “‘Starless and Bible Black’,” he deems, “will still reside inside ‘Red’, hidden like the ‘Lark’s Tongue in Aspic.'” But David A. B. was probably drunk when he spouted all this nonsense. We’ll see.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0211, Corsica^^, Storybrook

Moor(k) 02

“Well, well, well, Marion. Well well well well *well*.”

“Yes,” replied his partner in crime. Always. “What do we have *here*?” And then he waved Philip on before him. “After you,” he offered.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0018, 0211, Corsica^^, Gaeta V^^, Splinterwood, Twin Peaks Laboratory

Guyd

“Did you find anything today?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0017, 0211, End of Time^^

appellations

The next day they explored the city together, finding mysterious yards full of containers and pipes…

… non-operating, unfinished subways…

… and loads and loads of apartments, the great majority unrented.

Well, if they don’t like the present neighbors (and they *do* have neighbors themselves — more on that soon, perhaps), there’s plenty of other places to live here. No land for sale in the area, though, except for one small 512 going for 58.6 lindens per square meter. By contrast, Baker Bloch paid an average of about 0.7 lindens for the land he set up 7 Stones on about 5 months back. So: expensive! Way too costly to contemplate another purchase, even if he had the tier freed up for it. So this is strictly a rental scene for his extended family, to tell a story about a burg much larger than 7 Stones, and its promise but also, yes, failure to live up to expectations. Rows upon rows upon rows of apartments, a strong police presence, pockets of interesting neighborhoods. But not enough, Sandy had determined a while back, and now with Merry Gouldbusk joining in the lament. Not enough to ultimately survive.

I compare with VHC City, a considerably smaller affair than NWES (still much bigger than 7 Stones, though), but with a strong, central *structure* the whole community is built around and which keeps it thriving. This would be the Virtual Hotel Chelsea, a dominating force. NWSE has no such centerpiece that I can tell, *unless* this police hq can become it.

Probably not, but thought I’d mention. Merry and Sandy Herbert also visited there this fine, crisp early October day. Merry saw something she didn’t understand.

“Look, *Herbert Dune*,” she declared while pointing upward. “INGO,” she pronounced clearly. She had said INGOR before and they had to reshoot the scene. But it was a logical mistake, *because* Ingor Ratts was a famous figure from WES, the town that kind of sort of prefigures New WES, or what we now call NWES. “Like the four directions, North West East South, combined into one,” Herbert Dune explains another time for Merry about the town’s name origin. “It’s pieces of a puzzle fitted together. Here, let me show you. I know this dude uptown who can tell us more.” But before we get to that: the first name. Merry Gouldbusk again here, then:

“INGO, Herbert Dune, is my *brother*, my slightly older brother.”

“Big Brother, then,” states Herbert Dune while nodding. “I know how they are.”

She stared at the banner again, realizing: he’s been watching me all along!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0016, 0211, Apple's Orchard, Black Ice, Jeogeot^^, Neptune, NWES Island

stream


Bridgeman’s.


Swan Lake.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0015, 0211, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Regaltown^

Option 2

“Gee, dad. You’re driving especially fast today. Um…”

“You just hold onto that lime, son. That’s an important part of your school presentation today.”

“I know,” he recites indifferently. “World of Lemon; Lime World. Contrast between the two. Blah blah blah, pheh.”

“Hold on, son. Another curve. Wheeeee!”

“Gosh dad, your cap blew off on that one. And your hair’s all poofed up and spiky too.”👍

“Never mind that, son.” SCREEEEEEECH. “We’re here. “Rooster Springs Backwoods Middle School. Where you’re in the middle…”

“I know, I know,” Preston recites mechanically again in the pause. “… which is (and his dad joins in here) unfortunately in the way.”

Preston gets out, peers cautiously at the school front door for potential allies and foes. “See you soon, kid.” Then he was gone in a whirlwind of burnt rubber and skid marks.


Potential new enemy Bruce Bulkhead. Probably is.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0014, 0211, Elmaer, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Pipersville/Sink X^

time returns

“Damn!”

Stuck again.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0013, 0211, Iris^