Core-Alena can travel through *centres* (resonance).
But only for short stints.
Something was different today in evergreen packed Purden.
Settlers. Several precious trees missing. Core-Alena was restless in anticipation of even more.
She-he was being forced to turn into something else.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0202, Mountain Lake, Purden/Snowlands
One prominent figure in Kamas folklore history is Thomas Rhoads. According to legend, Indian guides from an area Ute Tribe revealed to Rhoads the location of a gold mine from which he was allowed to take gold to assist in the construction of the Salt Lake Temple. The only condition the Ute guides gave for revealing the location of this mine was that Rhoads agreed not to reveal [it] to any other person. Rhoads adhered to the terms of this agreement until his eventual death from an illness. The “Rhoads Mine” is now considered lost, but its legend survives in several books which have been published on the topic.
Who was killed or murdered? Duncan pondered from his rocking chair after reading. I suppose it would have to be *this town*.
You were a good friend Baker. Everyone makes mistakes.
—–
Green Squirrel sat patiently on his tiled roof, biding his time and waiting for another part time assignment at Diagonal Alley (etc.) just beyond the hills over there where his wife Huma was currently exploring. What more was there to do?
Greentop, she thought from afar, looking at the one their house was wedged into the side of. I’ll explore that peak next.
—–
“Tronessissia,” the witch Mid Hazel hissed back in Jeogeot. “Should’ve known.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0010, 0216, Asha, Corsica, Jeogeot, Wallytown/Fishers Island
“What do you see outside the window?”
“Umm, a mound?”
“Good. That’s the mound where we lost Hector and Lewis. And two fine Russian Greys they were!”
“Yes. Sorry to hear about the loss of your alien friends, doctor,” Tronesisia responded.
“I.C., please. As in Ice Cream.”
“Yes.”
“Now turn to your right.”
“Hold on.”
“What do you see now?”
—–
“This is the night I’m going to do it,” Roger Pine Ridge mutters in the general direction of Natali/Molly. Another day off for the latter, but she was too interested this time not to care. Roger was going through the door, he said. She’d heard the story before — a choice between green and red. Which way to flip, etc. She only understood a portion of what’s been uttered by the sad former Floydian, but resonance was there. She too had made a similar decision. Her alter ego: Molly (Lustrous). Colors again; violet and orange in her case.
“The other wizard chose red,” she tried to help. “It turned out okay. Ultra successful film franchise and all. String of best seller books.”
“Yeah, but it may have turned out better if he’d been clad in green. Obscurity has its rewards. Hidden in the depths, the mud, the *muck*. A jewel in the rough. Not rough: just a jewel in hiding. Alexandrite, perhaps. Best of both worlds.” He sighed. “One way to find out.”
“So you’re going through with your trip to Corsica, huh.”
“Short stop on Jeogeot first, though — Dewey, weirdly enough. ‘Nother map synch.”
—–
True, pure water bubbled and splashed just outside the door.
“You’ve made a wise decision, Roger Waters, um, Pine Ridge,” spoke the green doppleganger standing before him. “Obscurity here we come!”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0010, 0215, Corsica, Jeogeot, Wallytown/Fishers Island
“I’m just feeling so — *blue*.”
“I know, Monster. I know…”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0010, 0214, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island
“Now about *Yip Yip* here, I haven’t decide. Could be mayor of this fine burg, could be a school principal or a teacher or a fireman. I haven’t decided,” he reinforced. “But doesn’t he *look* the part — whatever that is.” Eraserhead Man takes a good gander at the table’s voluminous blue being. “Beautiful,” he ends. “Just so beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Yip Yip returns in a gruff tone.
“And I’d also like to thank Monster Cookie for trying out for the role too. Right now, well, right now he’s crying his eyes out in the other room, because I just made that decision prior to the meeting. When he collects himself, he’ll come in and make his introductions, I’m sure. Before he departs. Any other questions?”
“Just the ones we’ve already asked,” sardonically reiterates Sandy Beech to his right.
“Right.” EM sidetracks again. “So we’re ready for everyone to take Dr. Baumbeer’s psychological test. This is just to prepare you for the new relationships, the doubles and all, as well as the *cross* relationships between doubled pairs. So everyone just line up behind the good doctor and take a stab at *his* questions.”
EM takes his leave while everyone gets up and shuffles toward the smaller, white rabbit at the back of the room — our Rabbit 03 or Rabbid or, now, Dr. Baumbeer of course. Still toying with people’s minds. The men let the ladies go first. “After you, Chloe,” spoke Sandy politely. “You go first, Jill,” offered Desert. Jill and Chloe then just stare at each other, a Mexican showdown and one of many to come.
“Alphabetical,” inserts a compromising Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer. “Chloe before Jill, then Desert before Sandy. Then the parent rabbits, 01 and 02. Then… whatever you are.” He points to Yip Yip. “Let us commence. Fair Chloe, please take a seat.”
—–
“Just tell me what you see in the black and white pattern. Do you see yourself in there yet? Because you are. Everyone is.”
“I’m, ohh ahem eheh… *trying*.”
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0010, 0213, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island
“Now you can all relax tonight and not jump out of your seats every time I call out your name. Because I FOUND my HEARING AID! And that’s the last time I’m going to yell, end of story! I mean, end of story. Let’s begin.”
Eraserhead Man at the head of the table pauses to collect his thoughts on the as yet unnamed production. “First, I’m so so glad we were able to gather here today without *much* ado. As you can see from the person sitting directly opposite you on the table, I haven’t got rid of *anyone*. Truth is, you *all* won your parts. And I’d like to introduce to you Desert Knobb across from our beloved Sandy Beech and to my left. Sandy is, of course, seated to my right.” Eraserhead Man indicates these directions with his stubby yellow hands. “Desert will not only play Sandy’s *understudy*, but also his *doppleganger*. Because, you see, I’ve decided this production should be about doubles through and through. It came to me in a dream last night. The dreamer lives inside the dream, but who is the dreamer?”
Mindless mumbo jumbo, Sandy Beech was thinking by his side while glaring at newly arrived Desert Knobb across the table. “And where’s *your* double, EM?” he piped up. Yeah, he had popped a few pills before the meeting — just to steel his nerves.
“Good question, Sandy. Can you hear me in the back there you waskly wabbits!” Eraserhead smiles as Rabbit 01, Rabbit 02, Rabbit 03 all nod their heads. I’ll get to you wackos in a minute. But next we must talk about the *ladies*, Chloe and Jill.” At that moment Chloe Price was playing with her short, blue hair, seeming not to pay attention. But that was just part of her shtick. Jill MacGill, like Sandy for his own counterpart, was just glaring at her, loathing her every petty move. *I* should have won this role through and through. I *nailed* that phone call. ‘Ohh, ahem, eheh,’ she mimicked, to her, Chloe’s frivolous attempts at playing coy in her mind. If you asked her, Eraserhead Man needed to make a new plan, find a new key to this whole production business. She decided to speak up as well (sidenote: wouldn’t Sandy and Jill make a *fabulous* couple. But I jump ahead of myself…): “And *what* is the production’s name, EM? *And*… you haven’t answered Sandy’s question about *your* doppleganger, I’ll tack on.”
Eraserhead Man laughs out loud. “That’s what I love about you, Jill MacGill from Farmington West. *Spunk*. You got it in spades, you and Sandy both.” That’s when it occurred to EM as well that the two would make a swell couple. He decides then and there to work that potential love interest into the script somewhere. Maybe the other two of the doppleganger pairing — Desert and Chloe — *hate* each other in contrast, hmm. EM had trouble shutting his mind off of possibilites. “But we must move on. I assume everyone knows Frank, now. Franklin Bowers.” He indicates the nearest and also darkest and tallest rabbit of the 3 at the meeting. “He’s going to play a man– er, a bunny man with that exact same name, although he’s always just addressed by his first name. Do you have any questions about what’s going on Franklin? OH, and beside him obviously is the lovely Rabbit 02, whom we’ll call Patsy in the production.” EM stops here. “Nah, let’s go with Peggy instead. Peggy,” he repeats. “Change that in all the scripts, Mary. Mary?” He looks around but Mary was nowhere to be found.
Poor soul, Franklin Bowers thinks sympathetically. Never can remember his wife is actually dead. Going on 5 years now. All we have left are her portraits. Her many many portraits.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0010, 0212, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island
He decided to confront Eraserhead Man when the latter seemed almost passed out from his 4th 4 shot latte of the evening. EM had been wrangling, wrangling, wrangling with the roles of both Smithy and Doris Drone, going back and forth on each one with the different, involved actors. At this very moment, the famed director was even casting about in his mind recasting someone else as Hebert Dune besides Sandy Beech to better fit the mood. Not the best timing for an approach by his antsy production star, then.
“Is that the latest version?” the towering Sandy questioned about the rust colored book on the table. He had a weird notion just to snatch it and run off right here and now. The director didn’t answer immediately, didn’t even look up to acknowledge his presence. *Meditation*, Sandy then realized. EM was in really deep with this one. To startle him might even induce some kind of heart malfunction, he further contemplated. Best to walk away, his better senses commanded. Confront EM another time. But: no. His worse senses shoved their way to the fore again, fortified by insecurity, greed, envy. He slammed his hand down *hard* on the book he knew was the production script.
Eraserhead Man came out of it by shouting “ice cream anyone!!” at the top of his lungs, then slowly, gradually managed to free himself from the self induced trance. He looked around, blinked his eyes. He looked up at Sandy. “Sandy! I was just thinking about you! What a surreptitious interruption of my nirvana state. *You’re* *fired*!!”
Eraserhead Man stared at him blankly, watching Sandy Beech squirm like a fish in front of him. “I’m just kidding!” he then uttered after a pretty long interval. “Sit down!” Eraserhead Man then realized there was not another seat at this table. “Oh, let’s just move to the porch. Give me a bit to further compose myself! You go ahead! Any seat will do! Just give me a moment please!”
A shaken, humbled Sandy Beech dutifully took a seat on the porch behind EM and waited on him, but after about 15 minutes the director simply got up out of his chair and walked in the direction of his bungalow down the street, not turning around. The next day he acted like the event never happened; work relationship back to normal. And maybe, Sandy pondered then, it never did. He was a little high on those wacko pills Laverne Glam had sold him, after all. He remembered Eraserhead Man even glowing a bit in hindsight. *Never* do drugs around EM again, he told himself. Ever.
But: Lavern Glam? How did *she* get here?
Wait. I think it was Franklin Bowers who sold him the pills. Yes. Lives in the zircon encrusted RV out on self named Bowers Beach just outside Urbane Blue. We might visit him next. Not for pills, but just for another shoot.
“Frank Bowers!!” Eraserhead Man shouts upon waking up in the middle of the night.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0010, 0211, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island
“Urbane Blue by Phillip Jeffries, Baker Bloch, er, Pitch Darkly.”
“I see it. I see it very clearly. Laggy in here tonight. Isn’t it?”
“Yes,” replies Bill/Wheeler plainly. “Do you have to go back to Darkly Manor to prepare food in the next couple of minutes? Do you have a moment — 15 minutes, say — for a chat Mr. Mary?”
“Sure.”
“But the pattern — it’s the Black Lodge floor again, even.
Our item PJ-7842. Visit http://www.insidefabric.com to see full details for this product.
And this is *not* the origin of the name Urbane Blue.”
“Bracket’s playing Sandy Beech, eh?” Pitch says, half to himself. “Good for him. Found a way to work him into the story. But *you*…” He turns.
Bill/Wheeler shrugs. “I was all set to play Doris Drone as Jill MacGill but then Chloe Price just showed up. Now it’s up in the air. Who do *you* think won the role, Pitch Darkly? I assumed Jill won it, the second actress in that last post. But maybe she overdid it. Maybe Chloe won with her more soft spoken mannerisms.”
“I assumed the opposite. Chloe instead of Jill.”
“Hmmm.”
“Sandy Beech obviously knows who won the part. Maybe we should check back with him tonight. Is Bracket available?”
“Of course.”
—–
“Blue roses at the entrance. Blue policeman — hi Derek.”
“Hello Mr. Beech. Nice evening isn’t it?”
“Certainly is.”
“You gonna explore Smithy’s House?” asked the beat cop. “Not finished yet, though. Don’t even know who’s going to play Smithy, I don’t believe.”
“No I don’t think so.” Sandy then thinks: And that’s not the only role still up in the air.
—–
Who’s Mary? Sandy Beech ponders while trying unsuccessfully to sit on the only provided furniture of the house.
—–
“Oh, that reminds me,” Pitch exclaims, suddenly popping up out of the suave chair. “I’ve got to get home to Mary!”
“Suit yourself. But at least we know,” Bill called to his receding figure.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0010, 0210, Rubi, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island
Sunklands 