Category Archives: 0212

Southwest and Northwest (seed)

“Yeah I knew it was soda all along. I was just riffing you.” Phillip Linden was trying to act cool. Just because he *created* all this doesn’t mean he’s not still behind the times. Creators loose control of their creation. It’s a given once it’s let loose in the world. Real Life. No trademark on *that*.

“Soooo. Are you by chance part of the Yellow Group that’s, ahem, taken over? Through the peaks, I mean. I’m just asking because you’re…”

“Yellow?” the perpetually soda spilling man without a name so far finishes for the famed world creator. World of Lime that is. Lemon World is different. “I might be.” His cell phone rings — good timing. “I have to take this.”

“Sure, sure.”

—–

“Is he there?” the ant being asked one of his loyal workers.

“Yeah. He’s here.” The yellow man stares over as Phillip’s head gets big again. Like a screwdriver.

“Put him on. I want to speak with him. About Rookwood,” the ant punctuates ominously.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0212, Corsica^^, Northwest, Southwest

ABCD

A new danger lurks out in the wild whites of Stranger Creek. Certain Death, who prefers to go by C.D.

Many other things exist there in the cockamamie cock-up created by our God and Lord David A.B., better known for his benign creations such as Jesus Christ of Nazareth and Spongebob Squarepants of Bikini Bottom. But A.B. especially had no control over C.D., who followed from him and was not part of him at the present. In the Current.

If he can make it out of Whitewash Village we’ll all be in trouble. Stay tuned!

—–

And while we’re there snapping pictures, let’s open the draw distance and take a better look at God’s great cock-up known as Stranger Creek, formerly known as and followed up from Strange Creek. Before it got even weirder.

A jumbled mess isn’t it? And a perfect breeding ground for the unknown to come. The Corona-V brew infesting Storybrook and perhaps the rest of Corisca Prime and maybe beyond was just a *taste* of what’s lurking just around the corner.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0212, Corsica^^, Stranger Creek

Goose Egg

When I entered the room, I was alone. Except for the complete bastard of a man known as Casey One Hole. Philip was no more. I figured he was shuffled back to Gaeta V, since my corresponding shirt had also disappeared.

“I didn’t need something. But I *wanted* it. Now I have it.”

I walked in front of him to confront the demon. “Tell me where she is,” I demanded.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0212, Corsica^^, Gaeta V^^, Splinterwood, Twin Peaks Laboratory

Guyd 02

She didn’t find anything today! Her name was Guyd but she was so far away from being a *guide* it wasn’t funny. She must be more successful tonight. She would work overtime to do it. But which way to go?

She lazily decided Gyre/Crow, because that would give her 2 choices instead of 1 down the road. Er, tunnel. She was heading from Wabe, which may be the same as Wabd (which would explain the greenup yd (yellow down) eyes). We’ll see.

This was a labyrinth and that’s a fact.

—–

She’d reached the tracks. She didn’t like the tracks because humans lived amongst them. She and humans didn’t quite get along. Because most of them had *dogs*. Dog Island should have been erased and destroyed while they had them all rounded up there, she feels. That was only 2 outside days ago. Perhaps there’s still time….

And she’d missed her exit to Gyre. Oh well. Straight across the tracks it was. *Surely* she wouldn’t get lost. Again. Waste another day.

—–

Phew! That was close.

But that human smelt funny. Almost like he was a… No. Couldn’t be. Could it? Guyd again thinks of destruction/erasure. Should have gotten rid of them with the chance. Now they could be *anywhere*. *Anything* anywhere (apparently). But then, maybe she could turn into a human as well if needed. That would be handy. She’d have to check the status of new, magical powers with Rebl tomorrow. Hopefully with *good* news to relay. She so wanted to be a true guide some day like her. Stepping stones, she calmed himself. One slipping rock at a time.

She never can remember where this tunnel leads across the tracks. Oh well. Onward and upward!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0212, End of Time^^

Swan Lake

“We’ll have friends here, love. Already you are jogging with that Chicken man. Lover of Marcus Fox Smartville I assume. Since they live together next door.”

“Correct.” Chesteria A. Arthur tried to make her tone as flat as possible. Grey Scale Kimball still stared at her, but she was only thinking of a next topic. She suspected something, but it didn’t cross her mind right this second.

“And I’ll get my furniture shipped in as soon as possible. Just wanted to see if I — I mean, we liked it well enough to go to all that trouble.”

“Why wouldn’t we,” Chesteria exclaimed about the house, noting the stumble. “It’s perfection. Swan Lake. Swan Lake with an island. Swan Lake with an island with swans. Two of ’em! Just like us. Living in perfection.

But I can’t help notice,” she continued in a somewhat different tone, “that one stays on the island all the time while the other roams about freely. Wonder why?”

Grey Scale Kimball stares again, this time thinking about Chicken Itza and Marcus Fox Smartville directly. True to Baker Bloch’s Arnold’s worries, she called a council meeting the very next day to discuss the possibility. The Kevins’ stood up for the ersatz couple, though. Good thinking Arnold!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0212, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Regaltown^

seeds

They both wanted a role, and they were a natural pair. Reintroducing to the reader or readers: Tealy and Tillie. Combined: TILY.

They lived here:

—–

“Perfect day isn’t it Tillie.”

“It always is Tealy.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0212, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Rubisea

trapped

She was really planning to stay here long term, he pondered from his plywood cube. Brought all of her exercise equipment over here, her personal gym. Not to be confused with her personal Jim, hehe. But he must remain serious. He’ll ask her as politely as possible to remove it all tomorrow. Or sometime this week. Sometime this month at the very least. Because (as we’ve pointed out) he’s stuck. Stuck in Time. Stuck in Money. Stuck in Brain Damage really, given that he is 2 Rogers in one. Roger Pine Ridge both (as also pointed out before [but much further back]).

What to do with the basement space, though? The upper part: living quarters. But here he could make… a studio again? Make music once more. Just start beating on stuff.

And there’s good and kind neighbor Grassy to consider. His landlord in effect. No, not his landlord… let’s just have them visit each other for a spell…

—–

“Dum de *dum* de dum.”

—–

“The late breakfast was, er, *special*, Grassy Noll. Just like you.”

“Thank you.” Was there sarcasm involved with his speech patterns? the Mmmmmm thought, then waved it off. Of course not. This is Roger Pine Ridge. Destined to be his best neighbor ever. Much more so than the Petersons, who left in the middle of the night to live in Alcatraz. And the Archibalds left much to be desired as well. He was a bit actor and she studied acting a bit. Go figure.

“I hear you are a famous thespian in your small area of the universe,” offered Roger, trying to ignore the fullness of his stomach and the needlessness for it.

“I am!” Grassy automatically started listing off the productions he starred in. “‘Salad Bar Jack in the River of Tile’ — I’m sure you’ve heard of that.”

“No.”

“Then ‘Salad Bar Jack of All Trades’, ‘Salad Bar Jack be Nimble’…”

“I’m going to stop you there, Grassy. Grassy Noll. My most excellent neighbor.” He peers at his watch, not trying to hide it.

“Time,” Grassy spoke solemnly. “I understand.”

“And Money,” Roger quickly followed.

“Followed by…”

“We don’t speak of that.”

“Oh… right.”

Roger Pine Ridge suddenly wondered what the inside of his brain looked like, and if flowers could be successfully cultivated there given the right fertilizer.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0212, Iris^

Forest of the Mist

The two figures become one here at the bench of the yellow roses.

“Murdochh’s” castle is nearby, spatially and temporally. Not a trip for tonight.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0212, Rosehaven^^

detour 02

Annie arrives on the island at exactly 12 midnight Standard Linden Time. The witching hour, quite appropriately. She still didn’t really understand why she had to come the long way by boat and her pal Furry Karl was able to successfully use the short cut portal back at Horizons — but, *whatever*. She was here now and she was excited!

Now to find Eraserhead Man’s home on this silly map Norris gave her.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0212, New Island^

Falmouth Visit Floor 1

Jacob I. was talking to guitar strumming Tom Busker about Collagesity town history when he noticed that the entrance to Home Orange had, to his eyes anyway, turned a bright yellow instead. However in this photo it appears orange again. Strange, perhaps…

But his main goal tonight involved visiting the Falmouth gallery and looking at Stonethwaite related collages within. He’d finished examining the Greenup series in House Greenup over in Rubi. The experiment with bringing Wheeler and The Musician to England’s Lake District through its 13th collage had seemingly failed, doubled beds blocking the way (I *told* them to wait until I found the empty base photo, he steams again). Jacob I. was angling for another way in — he could *feel* the entrance or portal here without knowing the particulars yet.

“Story Room,” he mutters while pausing at Falmouth 11 within. Headless red and blue, with yellow topped instead by that of Charlie Brown’s. Chuck. In other words: Chroma, Improvio, and Earie. “EAR” between yellow legs indicating playing or composing (keyboards) by ear. And many third eye references in this collage, he thinks…

… including  a hidden one on the forehead of Swiss psychologist Carl Jung, tucked between the legs of the red Story Room guy. Jacob I. will find an exposed version of this particular third eye image a little later on.

He thinks of the collages he’s just viewed: Falmouth 7-10. 11 represents a culmination of sorts so far. He feels the explosive collision of Volkswagen Beetle and approaching, low flying plane just behind in 10. But that is not the portal… nor this one.

Nor this one (Falmouth 13, set in Blue Mountain, his user’s real life home).

Nor this one (Falmouth 16, set in Mythopolis, where his user grew up as a kid before moving to Blue Mountain to attend college).

He moves this collage further away from the wall to keep the south side of Woody’s snow covered roof from penetrating it. He notes that the penetration obscured the tear drop shaped orange head of what he knew to be an Ancient One, here tromping through the woods away from alt Edwardston Resident with matching orange head (hair). Missing orange again, hmm…

And here’s that exposed Carl Jung and his third eye I mentioned before in Falmouth 18, along with another, similar 3rd eye related image from the Sgt. Pepper album cover — male bust statue — and also a Shirley Temple figurine and burning car from same. Can you spot all of ’em? The background images are of a golf course (top) and neighboring waterfall (bottom) in Sky Valley, Georgia, just for the record. Jacob. I. knows the latter represents the “discarded”, numerical aspect of TILE, summarized by the Pythagorean tetractys with number 1 at the top or head (yellow billiard ball here).

Jacob I. wonders about the relationship of images glimpsed between floors even, like the third eye manifested in a cemetery in Falmouth 03 on the basement floor. This is obviously Story Room again — red, yellow, blue.

He ponders the meaning of the county map in the middle of Falmouth, highlighting the namesake village of Jasper County, Illinois — a very nondescript, depopulated rural area, and a place which his user has never visited. However, Jacob I. has since found out that baker b. *did* know someone from that county, and they met online, as they say, by accident. Dean is his name. More on that later, perhaps.

Onward to floor 2…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0212, Heterocera^^, Rubi^