Celebrations for Carrcassonnee’s 420th birthday will continue throughout the month I’m assuming. Happy Birthday Oh Great Green One!
Just later we found out that Carrcassonnee herself decided to become the sign, just to switch it out for a while. Her various olive limbs were separated out and tightened or rolled up a bit to become arranged as the numbers — 6 prims both, then. Only the 7th, her *eye*, remains within the Temple of TILE. Until the end of the month that is. Or thereabouts. Everything seems to be “or thereabouts” in this here Urqhart location for Collagesity (or thereabouts).
We must move on from Carrcassonnee for a while until her various limbs are taken back apart, loosened or rolled out a bit, and rearranged into the shape we are all familiar with and placed in the Temple at its regular 3rd floor spot beside Frank. We forget to mention Frank in the last blog entry! Perhaps he will even take over as town deity during Carrcassonnee’s brief absence in this post.
Frank and The Eye.
Frank and The Eye? Just temporary if so. Right Frank? Frank?
She didn’t want to be a celebrity, at least like this.
The pressed followed her around like a pack of wolves, hounding her ’round every corner.
But that was far in the future. In the here and now of Storybrook (*not* Storybook), she was just a nobody, a local kid with a knack for smack — smacking around drums. People around her saw it as a hobbie not a profession. Sure Led Zeppelin, The Who made some money off gigs. But, looky, people would say, their drummers are both dead! You don’t wanna end up like them — do you?
She thought about giving up drums for the most part and taking up photography, like her new friend Frankie. Not *quite* close enough yet to earn a colorful nickname, but they’d been joking around lately it could be Beige. So it’s around. But what of SEAN “Green” Penn and Olive, the ones that had earned color so far? Completing his transformation, SEAN had moved into the green house over at the beginning of Arnold Lane, now covered up by sand and only known about through maps. Olive, I think, might run the local bookstore. Unless it’s Ms. Crumplebottom. We better go check…
Pink was asked to run the store while the owner went to get some lunch. Who could it be?
She’d started reading the red book that everyone in town was talking about, especially since the Corona-V beer became such a popular take-out order at the local bar. “6 feet, 6 feet!” everyone ordered about the distance between themselves and others, because no one wanted anyone else to know how much they’d been drinking. You could smell the Corona-V for 3, 4, 5 feet. But 6 seemed like a naturally agreed upon distance where the smell dissipated and everyone became the same again, subtract other obvious physical characteristics of a drunk. But that was the thing. You couldn’t *tell* just by looking at people if they’d been imbibing the toxic drink. “Oh Sam over there in the grocery store has been chugging them down,” Ms. Snippet, one of the town’s many gossips, might say. But really the only way that you could tell is by smelling their breath, if you didn’t see them down the brewskies personally.
Still waiting for the owner to show back up…
“Hold on Butterfingers. We’re almost there.”
Fran was tittering at something Cloe had just showed her on her phone. A cow blowing the hat off a farmer. Jer Left Horn didn’t get it, but he wasn’t going to admit that. Instead he decided to kill two birds with one stone, as it were. “You girls like cats? Because I loooove cats. Got two back at the cottage. Wanna see? One for each, one for each,” he attempted to tempt again, doubling down on the effort.
“Can’t talk. Phone,” responded Cloe curtly. We’ve been here before.
Running out of options, Jer stood up, determined to play his final card. “You know, girls — clothing is optional here. Why don’t I, let’s see, shed *these* clothes and go over there and look out at the bay, hmmm? Maybe you girls — *ladies* will join me then.
“Doubtful,” returned Cloe crisply. “Doubtful,” echoed her friend Fran but with less conviction. She wanted to see!
“Just *look* Cloe,” Fran whispered excitedly across the table.
“Not interested,” reinforced Cloe, looking for another funny video to share with her friend. Her dear dear friend.
“I will never leave here, Kevin Orchardsity.”
“Kevin A., please,” replies a pleased Kevin A. Space Ghost (Young) knows their full name(!). But Kevin C. and Kevin E.: left behind in gay ol’ Regaltown. However, the sky box… perhaps they could come here too? What’s left for them in Regaltown, really? Grey Scale and Chesteria are here. The conquerors with their grey to white elephants. Marcus Fox Smartville will show up soon too, maybe with Chicken Itza but perhaps not as well. Bullfrog seems to be here — somewhere. Aqua Dude?
“Aqua Dude?” Kevin A. decides to mouth out loud for his roomie.
“Hmm, what’s that?” Space Ghost was daydreaming of chicken. Juicy, delicious grey or white meat.
“I’m, er, just wondering. You said Bullfrog is here.”
“Somewhere,” admits Space Ghost, still 1/2 thinking of where to pick up a bucket.
“Well what about his partner? That inverting guy?” Does Space Ghost guess he is actually Aqua Dude’s arch nemesis Super Guy on the sly? But at this point Space Ghost decides to use his own one, true superpower that we know of and make himself invisible, which actually means he’s teleported to another, local spot found on the inworld map. He has a
one sim 100 meter limit.
“I can set you up,” Cpt. Americus declared between bites.
As a child, she often came to the “Pipe Room” underneath the bank her father worked at to play. For a long time, she figured this room is how the town got its name somehow. Someone, perhaps famous, perhaps even *infamous*, was trapped in this room with these pipes, she imagined. Witness the bars covering the small windows on the door and the wall.
African-American nudie photo above the lone table. Perhaps someone black, then, she reasoned early on. Maybe Jim A. would know more of the story. But as far as he knew he was the only black that ever lived in Pipersville (he personally preferred “brown”). *And*, he quickly correct, the town was named for an original settler named Piper. Nothing more. “But the room had to have *some* function,” she replied to Jim. “Stop trying to dig up dirt on that place,” he requested, understanding the town powers and what they could do. Something a child shouldn’t know about. She’d learn soon enough, when she was older.
Then, overnight, the town grew a suburb, the aforementioned Sandpiper Court with its three houses. Your Mama’s family moved into the middle of the 3. She began to sing at the local club called The Diamond, owned by this very same Jim. In truth he was trying to distract her from the room and from town mysteries in general. Plus she could really belt out the tunes.
It would be a number of years before she started being called the name she became famous with: Your Mama. Not a child any longer. And she took the name shortly after learning the truth about the room. And Jim.
(to be continued?)
Center of Lapara, Hidi thought after teleporting in.
Karon must be…up there?
But Wheeler said she didn’t find anything here in a scan last night. Only the hq for the whole town seemed promising for more storytelling. So…
She lays on the Some Bunny Loves You Beanbag and thinks of Sozzy Bozo and how he screwed things up oh so royally with Cher and Chan and how he’s paying for it now in the afterlife. Clowned he was. Just like I should be. Didn’t Baker Blinker recently say she wanted to be a clown, a short, dumpy one? Maybe that’s the bill. Not ordinary. Not Smoky Ordinary. The Dump. And, add to that: Gassy.
There wasn’t much in the way of art in Heartsdale to Mabel’s disappointment. One gallery showing mainly soft core erotica — well, a lot of it wasn’t even erotica, just women posed in various suggestive manners, let’s say. But there were some other types of works mixed in here and there, like this painting called simply “Dancer” that Mabel kind of liked. And this one below named “Country Road”. When visiting, Mabel sometimes imagined traveling down this picturesque road — outta here (like in that old John Denver song).
In Collagesity, there were rumors that you could actually go inside Baker B.’s collages to different Real Lyfe locations. Maybe the same could apply here, she thought.
The town had plenty of empty buildings and apartments. Mabel again wonders what it looked like in its more golden days. When it was closer in time to Collagesity. When did the split occur? Does it have something to do with the house? *Their* house? It must be, Mabel concluded some time ago.
Mabel had begun to smoke. “2 packs of Lucky Stripes, Jim,” she requests to the owner of the town’s lone convenience store. “And a couple of snickers.” It was a habit born mainly of, well, boredom. Not much to do in Heartsdale, as you the reader have probably picked up. Buurb worried about her continued health, but he figured it would turn around once she had her house. Then they would be focused on fixing it up, showcasing it even for the rest of the community. Maybe open a gallery in part of the downstairs. Mabel could paint up on their favorite floor, the 3rd. Scenes of town, even. She would turn around, he believed. Returned immersion in art would aid immensely. The parts of Heartsdale that seemed sour or boring would have new light shed upon them. It all revolves around the house.
Mabel returns to their alley apartment, planning to light one up as soon as she got inside.
Gaeta 5 is the only finished continent of the Gaeta series. The initial project was to build 5 continents (named from Gaeta 1 to Gaeta 5), then to unite them into a single block of sims. Today, only Gaeta 5 is complete and a part of Gaeta 1 was built. Gaeta 5 is the most compact continent, with no gulfs or estuaries. On map, [it] has a [peanut shape]. This continent is an endless plain. It is linked to Corsica by a two-sim large passage (see Transcontinental Channels).
where they *aren’t* (any more):