He stood back after setting down the vibrating green geode next to his considerably smaller pink geode on the stairwell table and watched them excitedly *coordinate* (adjust in size to become equal, then “kiss”). They are merged now. 2n1. What happens next will be up to them.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0212, Teepot+
“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.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0211, Teepot+
Two days later they met at the marina down by the sea. Jeffrey Phillips continued his story he began alongside the second breakfast pizza on Friday. “I realized that this place was kind of like the Virgin Islands — St. Croix — with its twin cities. Duncan was here now after all. We tried *so* hard to recruit him. I had the Psycho help. King I believe was his last name. ‘Don’t shoot till you see the whites of their eyes,’ he told me King told him. He played national player of the year Mourning to a draw, but that was the other one, the other Duncan.”
“I’m confused,” shouted Charlene the punk over the now crashing waves. Jeffrey realized they should move some place quieter. “Come with me,” he exclaimed. “I want to show you something else.” They were heading for the catacombs.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0210, Teepot+
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.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0209, Teepot+
Jeffrie Phillips was waiting for someone in Teepot, perhaps that cute punk he propositioned yesterday.
Yes, there she is, with the relationship evolved enough to a point where she’s asking him to choose from the lot of them again. But he only has one in his heart: Audrey. The rest are distractions, pretty baubles for him to pick up and admire. She’s with Dr. Nightwing, though. Out on one of their “missions” once more. If only he and Mystic Girl would get together instead — another companion. But right now it was Audrey. He stares up at the stars. Probably on Cygnus X-9 or some far away place like that. He thinks of black holes. He looks at Charlene. He thinks of holes.
—–
“Nothing on the tube tonight, baby. Looks like we’ll have to go upstairs.” But she had no clear vision of where the relationship was going and thus having none of it.
Actually upon checking from behind she does have an angle for viewing. “Okay, let’s go for it,” she agreed after this pause to take another snapshot.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0208, Teepot+
Blogging at Sunklands Institute while the Moon comes up.
Perch: the restaurant is still intact.
Angus Nuffin still cooks there; burns perch occasionally.
Magika Bean waits for her date.
“Hi baby doll.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0207, Heterocera, Iris
“Rrawf!”
“What’s that, Spot (Spot!)? Something out in the water?”
“Rrawf rrawf!”
“Better go take a look.”
“Rrawf!”
—–
“Come on, boy. Come on! (whistling: phw phw phw!). Okay, be that way scardy pants.”
“Wmpr Wmpr Wmpr.”
“Oh I’ll be all right.” [Gus] rows out to the Shallows.
—–
“Hmmm. Nothing out here but a couple of green leaves and that green thing over there that’s been here forever. Better go get Spot to a dog doctor. He’s seeing things!”
“I *told* you the Shallows was a bad idea for a tree,” he-she whispered sideways out of his-her mouth over to she-he.
“Oh shut up, you. Sounds like he’s going away.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0206, Heterocera, Iris
Morris was very long and almost extended across this Aley designed Gilligan’s Island hammock. Morris also thought he might be green because he was seaweed. But this isn’t Morris, I realize. It’s someone else — green. C. Weed? Anyway, this, I believe, is his island.
Or peninsula.
Oh, he has a dog. And a wife. But it’s not Lou. Lou is Morris’ sister. Neither has anything to do with C. Weed or whatever his actual name is. Gus? Better get back to Lou and Morris sans C. Weed. Just noting that he exists and where his home probably is. Near Sunklands Institute; just on the other side of the Shallows with the splintered factions of Core-Alena now.
They form quite the nuclear family.
Dog (Gus?) on an actual island within the peninsula.
Wife in skybox conferring with Lou about their confusing roles.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0205, Heterocera, Iris
“I think green means go, Lou.”
“And no Inky Man to deal with this time.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0204, Omega, The Cross
A car can be both red and green at once. Like this object beyond The Straight (Reality) leading to The Straight (Virtual).
It’s just a symbol, a sign. But one of many.
It’s time to wake up Morris again. We have time now.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0021, 0203, Google Street View, Omega, The Cross, The Straight, Utah
Sunklands 