“He must have come here after walking across the bridge, Sidechick Corea. Hi Sammie!”
“Sammie seems to want us to go inside, Magus Ellen,” observes the younger man.
“Dog’s tale, yess.”
“We better change into something else.”
“What *you* got?”
Category Archives: 02
cat tales
“Methinks this is my kind of place.”
—–
In a related story, the body of a witch was found just outside her cabin in Wabe today. Authorities believe a rival practitioner of the Dark Arts threw her out the back window during an argument over possession of a cat.
But she’s okay.
—–
“There, there. Now, now.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0012, 0204, End of Time+, Rose Heaven-
Crow Island
“Very nice. This will do.”
“I get it, Magus Ellen,” Sidechick Corea shouted from below. “The rat tales are the 2 in the pictures, the first and last of the post. But the *same* rat tale. That of Reginald’s.”
Ellen walks out to the front stairs. “What was that, my friend?” But Ellen heard well what he said. No need to voice it, true, but no harm done. Here at least.
He listened patiently while Sidechick repeated his observations. Then: “Good, good.” He stares back inside the treehouse… “We’re almost ready up here.”… and then toward the cave mouth.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0012, 0203, End of Time+
rat tales
Dr. Brown knew a thing or two about sniffing out mysteries. He’d been doing so most of his life, especially a particular one involving the Cult of the Three Suns. Clues had been flying in from all directions recently. And now another had fallen in his lap: a pregnant Pat or Patrick Starr, connected with *North Yd* of all places (pronounced like “North Wide” just so you’ll know). Tilers, he thought from his secret underground lair, far far away (spatially and temporally) from the simpletons at Eotia Village. Squid people. Opposite sides of the circle, one dead and stuffed, the other living and breathing and… preaching. Vicious cycle — no, not vicious — *natural*, a comes around, goes around sort of idea. But now he had to find Tessa. She was the key.
Less than a half year ago; North Yd:
“The tile here indicates safety, however,” her grandpa reinforced. “Safe to split up, then. You examine the buildings that way,” — Grandpa Gold points behind Tessa — “and I’ll work my way around from this end — counterclockwise — until we meet up somewhere in the middle. Is that okay?”
—–
—–
I could spend the rest of my life staring at these walls and learning nothing else. I can’t believe all of the months from my past I did so. Nascera, he thought bitterly. Turns out nothing’s here. Nothing atall.
Even Reginald appears to be gone.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0012, 0202, Nascera, The Waste+
clinic (Eotia Village)
“*Axis*, Zoidboro. That’s who *we’re* trying to defeat. We must make sure we don’t get this VD person to help us. Let’s see, V could stand for Val, Valerie, Valentine…”
“It’s *not* someone’s initials, Pat. Stop looking around. And don’t touch *anything* you don’t have to. Let’s just get you checked up and get outta here.”
After a pause, Pat whispers in Zoidboro’s ear. “I wonder if *he’s* hiding out from Axis too,” indicating the man sitting on the far seat from them.
“Stop — with the Axis talk,” Zoidboro reprimands out of the side of his tentacle covered mouth.
“Patrick!?” a suddenly appearing nurse shrills, making them both jump a bit.
“Um, that’s me.” Pat raises his hand. Zoidboro grabs it and shoves it back down.
“Right this way sir.” She looks at Zoidboro. “Are you his… guardian?”
“Yeah, we can go with that,” Zoidboro grumbles, and gets up to follow.
—–
“Say you come from a, quote unquote, mutanty place, huh?”
“Hambone, sir. That’s right. Zoidboro here lives in North Yd…”
“… but part of the same micro-continent,” Zoidboro further explained.
“Hmmm…” Doctor Brown taps his pen crisply against the report several times. “Well, sorry to break this to you Patrick — *Pat* — but it looks like you’re pregnant. 8 months so, in fact.” He stares at the dumbfounded Patrick, then at Zoidboro. “I, um, don’t reckon you’re the father?”
“N-n-no. No!”
But was he?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0012, 0201, End of Time+
limit
“I’m never going to stop playing this game.”
“Dum, dedum, dedum.”
“Ooops! What just happened?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0217, Google Street View, Purden/Snowlands, Utah
zilch
George liked it here on the peninsula Duncan assigned him to keep an eye on. This meant Core-Alena in whatever shape she happened to be in at the time. This included The Between, a slither of land representing a neutral point between Virtual and Reality. This meant, well, anything else in and around the peninsula. Just keep your eyes peeled, requested Duncan.
And something had happened tonight, George then realized, peering around. The Seven Crate was gone from its former position behind the Magenta Girls’ beach house.
First the VEN off the boat moored just offshore several days ago, now the SeVEN crate itself. Better get this information back to Duncan as soon as possible, George considered. Maybe… right now?
—–
“I *told* you not to come here, George.”
“I’m properly disguised — in costume.”
“Nevertheless. You’re still a boy of 13 at heart. This is an adult portal.”
George glanced over at the center of it all again. “Milk. And cookies.” He pointed. “Funny.”
“Stop looking over there. You don’t know *what* will show up. Just stare straight ahead.”
“Okay.”
“Tell you what, let’s just get out of here.”
“But I just arrived,” protested George. “Ohhh.”
“Let’s go back to the apartment.” And so they did.
—–
“Okay, I feel a lot more comfortable now with you being here. So… start at the beginning. When did you find the crate missing? After the boat name changed, I know. But just go through the events of the day leading up to it.”
So George unfurled the events of the day leading up to the discovery. Core-Alena and he had had breakfast together at the beach house. “English muffins, ummm,” George remembered. “Core-Alena is a good cook, especially for a tree.”
“That’s a racist and bigoted response,” reprimanded Duncan. “Trees are no different than people. There’s trees that are good with cooking, good with music, good with science. Just like people.” Duncan stared an apology out of his young ward.
“Sorry.”
“That’s okay. Now continue.”
“Well, we finished breakfast, and then I helped with the dishes and we sat around and chatted. Core-Alena — well, you know how she is. Always complaining.”
“Watch it,” warned Duncan.
“Alright.” George nodded here. “But she started on… talking about how she got killed again.”
Duncan paused with this, turned and appeared to look out the window toward the great Hotel Chelsea (the center of it all *here*) while actually deep in thought. “I see.”
“She mentioned you.”
“Of course she did.”
“And how she’s not happy being where she is now. Mobile. That’s the problem,” the boy guesses.
“Yeah,” admits Duncan, turning back around. “That’s the problem, George.” He shuffles his feet a bit, wrings his hands nervously. “A conundrum even.”
George pauses in turn. “She needs to go back into the ground. Doesn’t she?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0216, The Straight, VHC City
break’s over
“So Duncan,” requests Sid (Angus) at the Blue Feather Table after taking a sip of milk. “Continue with the report on what you’ve found.”
Duncan stared at his right red hand. “Berry… disengaged from Gaston. Berries gone. Jacob I. and Sugar Dumpling with them, but still alive in their case. Thimble *might* remain.”
“Is that your hope? Or something based on solid conjecture?”
“Former, admittedly.” He thought of the great view again. ‘Nother Sugar House. “Oh, and The Musician too,” he remembered to tack on. “At least according to Jiff the police psychiatrist.”
“Good, good. So… Duncan,” summarizes Sid. “You say these only two ‘Vila’ sims are directly linked one with the other. Core-Alena in her green car was able to successfully enter Vilania from The Straight…”
“I would like to correct you on terminology, Sid. If you don’t mind.”
“Go ahead, Duncan.”
“The Straight is shared between Reality and Virtual, so my conjecture is on the Virtual side it is the same as the 4 sims bordering Foothill Drive. This makes Utah’s Foothill Drive the east side of The Straight, and not The Straight itself.”
Sid turns to Curled Paper, who was taking notes (in his head). “Make sure in the minutes that The Straight is noted as being the same as these 4 sims, Mr. Paper.”
Curled didn’t nod, but Sid knew he would take note, as requested. One of the two librarians at The Table then spoke up, surprising everyone (even himself): “Gorilla. Mind Gorilla.”
All stared for a beat. Then Sid continued. “So…. next we have Hank driving the red car… and that’s good, Librarian 01,” he then realized. “You remembered the mate.”
[delete 1 exchange]
“Anyway,” started Sid again. “Hank, being less pure of heart, didn’t make it back to Vilania after the Fairy Forest heist but switched over to Vila… erm, *Gaston*.”
—–
Duncan suddenly recalled one other person that could remain. Heidi.
But where? Where could Heidi be hiding? At the Hideout? The intermediary Big Between?
Likely explanation. The Big Nope is the failed or closed portal, the lone “willow” at 2013.
Takes two to know, once more (1719). Safe Zone; Safe Passage.
1890’s Big Between is the observatory, neither here nor there. Core-Alena can see her-himself but not at the same time.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0215, Gaston+, Google Street View, Mountain Lake, The Straight, Utah
berry sad
Poor, poor Berries, Duncan thought while scouting out the basically deserted Sugar House formerly owned and managed by Sugar Dumpling, sometimes wife of Jacob I. They decided to go somewhere else all together. But maybe one or two remain, perhaps limber, persistent Thimble. She was most likely his favorite of the bunch, or perhaps that was just because she rented the ultra-handy room across from the Police Station he was so interested in spying on in the days. The glory days of Gaston before the great exit.
A few bouncers remain behind but they just seem to be aiding with the cleanup of the bodies.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0214, Gaston+
one and two
“So tell me about this 40,000 lindens you were carrying around with you?” questions police psychiatrist Maury “Jiff” Monroe at Gaston’s lone sugar house now. *Former* sugar house. He’s unseen in the photo below because of his stature. But his mind, like Hank Graphite’s he’s grilling, is big and bright. This showdown could go on for a while.
“40,001”, answers Hank. “Because I had to bring *you* into being as well.”
Jiff pondered on this, then realized what it meant. “Describe me, then,” he decided to say.
Hank crossed his arms and settled back. “I don’t know. Small… *tiny*. Green — blueish green. Silly, blank expression on your face. I understand you have five. Show me another one.
So Jiff complies with smiley face, replacing the neutral one he had.
“There, that’s better,” Hank cooed. “Now we can maybe get somewhere.” He leans forward again. “Listen, bud… I’m not suppose to be here. It wasn’t suppose to be this way.”
Jiff giggled. “What *do* you mean?” he chirped happily, then decided to change expressions again. “What do you *mean*?” a suddenly surprised, almost shocked Jiff re-asked with different emphasis.
“I mean it was suppose to be *Vilania* I returned to. Not this sim.”
“Gaston? Just so you’ll know, there’s no Berry attached to the name now. Nor the police station.”
Hank waved this bit of information off. Jiff found himself becoming irritated…
… because the loss of Berry was big, big news around these here parts. But the disinterest seems to detach Hank Graphite from that fiasco at least. Loss of the actual Sugar House at the end of Main. Sugar Dumpling gone, taking all the Berries with her, taking Jacob I. with her, and then of course Broken Heart Jackie, who always tags along with his master. And that leaves, let’s see, *him*? Anyone else? He can’t think of one single being. Maybe the punk styled Musician in the Yellow House on the west side of town. We’ll see.
Will he even get paid for his job at the end of the month? The Berries poured in a lot of money, and that flow’s now dried up. He decides he’s now angry. Yes: *angry*. He’s going to demonstrate to this *Halfwit* exactly how important the other half *was*.
“I want to show you something, Hank Graphite,” he measured. “But you have to turn around and shut your eyes. Give me five seconds, and then open your eyes without turning back. Can you do that for me… *bud*?…” But Hank had already whirled around, shut his eyes, and started counting, “Five, Mississippi, four…”
Jiff acted fast. Change of shape, then a quick teleport.
“… one Mississippi…” Hank opened his eyes, turned, then quickly stood up, nerves rattled. Giant Angry Jiff stared down at him from outside.
Point made. Hank shakily handed him another linden when he returned inside.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0213, Gaston+
Sunklands 