Category Archives: 0310

alchemical witches

Baker Bloch approached the clipboard on the white desk against the white wall. Whitewashed it was. He should have done this weeks ago, months: join the gym at Hucka D.’s White Palace in disguise, er, the skies. But where’s the List?

“Baker! Over here!” Fern Stalin calls excitedly from the Links, eager to get to know Hucka D.’s friend better. Former friend? That’s what she wanted to find out, why they set all this up in the first place. The White Palace. Baker found it!

“Who’s that over there?” he returns, peering through the machines and equipment. “Hucka?”

“*Hardly*.”

Wendy Wheeler enters through a portal in the corner. Lichen Roosevelt soon joins them too. The black, white (yellow) and red altogether again. Just like a newspaper, ready to be read. True yellow was not invited, which would have consequences later.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0024, 0310, Canada, Canada/Picturetown

00230310

Besides the addition of the Thornwood sim, not much seems to have changed in Rosehaven since my brief residency there last winter. I left because of a seeming misunderstanding. I had overlaid a mythology on top of one already in place. My princess wasn’t their princess, who I talked to a bit. My queendom-kingdom wasn’t theirs. Merry Gouldbusk (my princess) doesn’t wish to return now and is resigned to remain with Sandy and perhaps other lovers in NWES City and NWES Island as a whole. She might be the same as All Orange but it is difficult to tell — certainly she is gold or amber in skin tone and that’s pretty comparable in color and may be close enough. What of Breeze and Wendy, who also hang around Sandy: collectively, the “Breezy” archetype? Merry Gouldbusk seems also to be the same as them — maybe. And what about her donning that red, MAGA-style cap before the election results were finalized and that side lost (yes, they lost: congratulations Joe!)? When we saw her wearing it she was heading across town to Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer’s Red Rose building, which he rents from Peet Aries, who is similar but also different from Peet Archer, a new-ish character in this here blog and photo-novel, 23 in a series of 20. But we know similarly red capped Barry DeBoy, the abstract artist featured in photo-novel 22, also resides or at least use to reside in this building as invited by Baumbeer. He saved the town with his art created there, specifically through a design called CITY, a combination of triangles and squares to tile a picture without internal gaps. TIGER may be another word for it but, again, unsure; we are not privy to the details of the saving so far. But my point here is that Merry Gouldbusk, in the moment, may have also been the same as Barry Deboy through that cap. We’ve only seen him once in the current novel, and in a different location more on the east side of town than before — across the highway, but not in Meat City, although (that suburb) is across the road from the main part of town as well. Sorry: *city*. As usual, we are dealing with many mysteries at once, and with blurring of plot lines and involved characters. The city and overarching island is a labyrinth to be solved, if not a maze. Let’s go with labyrinth, because mazes are designed to confuse and labyrinths aren’t — one path in and one path out for the latter. And we have our center now: All Orange. We just don’t exactly know its nature yet. Aldebaronian? Powerful witch Mid-Hazel thinks so. She also wrongly thinks All Orange is dead now. She believes Rosehaven, which she’s changed to Rose Haven to hide it from the locals, is up for grabs. Her assistant cat-witch Esmerelda is not as certain. She thinks it could be a plant.


“That was a nice song, I think I’ll write another now.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0310, NWES Island^, Rose Heaven^^

Mad Anthony’s Nightfield 02

King Lewis Johnson the Third’s canal boat arrived at quarter past 2 in the morning’s evening’s night day. Time was wonky in this part of old or original WES, merely the precursor, as it turned out, of the considerably larger New WES constructed further up the western Jeogeot coastline, or what was soon shortened to NWES, along with the overarching New WES Island — NWES Island now, with further distance put between it and the Omega continent’s New Island as well. The Moth Man would be pleased. He’s written a novel about *his* New Island and doesn’t want another place of that name to come between him and fame. I don’t either (!). His New Island should be unique. A no. 10 type of paradise, hidden until now. Bravo!

http://oceansanddreams.com/blog/2020/9/22/update-on-the-hum

Back to King Lewis Johnson the Third’s visit to Mad Anthony’s Nightfire settlement based on the Isle of Karma roleplaying sim. “We call those type of vehicles channel boats on Mars where I’m from. You’ll need a crowbar (to understand).” Mad Anthony, new lover of Linda Halsey, was clearly insane to think he was from Mars. Gary his manservant concubine beside him gently reminded the old, partially senile man that his home planet was Venus. He was not all right tonight. Marty’s Illuminati spell to soften his brains to tin or lead was working perfectly, another type of 10.

—–

“It is time for me to go back home to my neighboring sim, Anthony. I’ll pick up the canal, um, *channel* boat later. I wish you well on your brain issue.”

“Good night King Lewis Johnson the Third.” He looked at the sim boundary sign from his side. “You are indeed The Mann!”

“Thank you.”

Poor pitiful thing, he thinks while walking away.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0022, 0310, Jeogeot^^, New Island^, West End

missing

“Well I’m worried because he hasn’t come home yet.” Indistinguishable speech. “Yes, I just got back into town.” Indistinguishable speech. “Stomach Land, right.” Indistinguishable. “Yes, should be good eating tonight — listen, just meet me over here at the motel. Is that alright?” Indistinguishable speech. “*Sorry*. Is — that — all — *right*?” Laughing, perhaps derisive. “I know I’m teaching him bad lessons; just get over here.” She hung up the receiver. She kind of slammed the receiver back into its carriage, actually. 1/2 and 1/2. She turned toward the Big Boy in the southwest corner of the sim and shook her head. So obsessed was her little dunce of a boy with it. “I’m going to grow up to be *this* tall!” he exclaimed one time, juxtaposing his own diminutive figure with the much larger one in an exact 1:1 match from Pink’s perspective. He knew how to manipulate the angles just right to get the effect. He was indeed a gifted child in many ways, his mother knew. But not schooling. And Marsha “Star” Pink’s lack of same didn’t help atall. At — all.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0021, 0310, The Waste^^

Shoo memories. Shoo!

“You know that volcano over there has been erupting for about 5 years now. Never reaches the village here.”

Yoko Ona didn’t want to know about past history. She was concerned about the here and now and the threat of Mid-Hazel and her former gang finding her. Like ants (aunts?), they had vast powers to eat through time and space. She was not safe here, she realized. If young Ruby had made it through…

“We should go somewhere else — that’s what you’re thinking — isn’t it?” Ruby was totally in sync with Yoko Ona. She had forgotten, 5 loooong years ago, that she had created the fairy-witch herself in an all night orgy of drugs, sex, and rolling rock. Rolling on The River. All the way out to The Sea (of Painful Memories), never to be seen or heard from again. Until now. This present. Smaller Ruby Fairy had delivered her a present, just as she was designed to do.

She opened the present. Two red shoes. She knew where she had to go now. Home.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0020, 0310, Braynard's Place^^

pageturners

“North America — he’s starting to remember, Izzy. Better try to call Pink again.”

“My darling Pink. How is she these days… Olive?”

—–

“I’m going to have to burn all these MapS, Jane. They’ll do us no good now.”

“Where we’re going,” she clarified.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0310, Asha^, Corsica^^

pious

“Thank you for meeting with me tonight, Hucka Doobie. Corsica is my greatest challenge”

“So I’ve heard.” She swigs a beer as well. “Well — *ahhh* (wipes mouth of frothy foam) — I’m here to help you. For sure. Go team.” She wants to raise her arm here for unity but finds she can’t.

“Thanks. See if I lean back, Hucka, I’m right on the line at 162/162. The planners of the Melder sim, these *Elmers*, must have known about this new Diagonal in my estimation and taken steps to incorporate its energy into…”

“… their plans,” finished Hucka Doobie in the gap. Another beer gulp. “Well, it’s a very interesting theory and I suppose it has to be true on some level.”

“Can you feel it?” requests Baker Bloch. “I’m right on it but I’m just wondering if it works in proximity (as well).”

“Not really. But I don’t really work that way.” She emits a secret smile here, like a Mona Lisa. “You know,” — she looks down at her beer, her free hand — “*I* could have gone out with the Good Rev. Amos T. Sandman. It didn’t have to be Wheeler.”

“Yeah. I think it *did*.” Baker Bloch looked over, thinking Hucka Doobie was an attractive woman, but Wheeler… Well, Wheeler is Wheeler.

She has her ways. Hucka Doobie is fantastic as a spiritual guide to the blog. No need to bring her into all that. If necessary I’ll get Baker Blinker to talk to her. “We, you and me Hucka, are alike in that way.” He points back and forth between them.

“Hmph.”

“Anyway, The Diagonal doesn’t necessarily work that way.”

“Doesn’t it? Didn’t Sid Viscous and Martha Lamb get engaged on a Diagonal and then seal the deal there?”

“I suppose.” Baker considers. “But that was the Heart one. The Head one was probably different.”

“Yess… but what is *this* one, the new Diagonal? How does *it* function?”

Baker ponders again. “Well, it’s obviously about religion.” He elaborates. “The tree church at the first of this section is on it. And then here — Summerhill’s church.”

“This is not Summerhill’s church,” Hucka Doobie speaks plainly, looking around. “But I know what you mean.” Another swig. Hucka Doobie considers that she may always be alone. Without love.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0018, 0310, Benangatron^, Corsica^^, Splinterwood^

further 02

Rebl listened intently for news about the bombing. She kept the antique radio low. Just in case.

“Been 2 hours,” Guyd put forth in a purr. “I don’t think anything’s going to happen.”

“Just wait my friend. Be patient.” Guyd knew the bush was rarely wrong, but also Rebl stated that the bush was growing older. One day it will not be with us as ultimate guide. That day may be sooner than expected, she said.

“New York–” the radio sputtered. “New — ork has been…” The radio went dead.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0017, 0310, End of Time^^

Gunn(s)

He unglues his eyes from the object to the right and returns to his computer screen. A blood red square appears with a right leaning, white diagonal running across it, making him gasp. Right at this very moment of all times! Red Squirt Seven: assemble!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0016, 0310, Maebaleia/Satori^^, X-City^

Granted

Kevin had a nosy neighbor with the initials SCP who liked to peer through his windows at times. So he covered them with clouds.

The addition confounded and confused his easily confounded and confused pet Red Panda Fox Cat Man, rescued on December 13, 1874 (AL) from insidious gypsy witches on a swollen steamer just off the coast of Fiji. Or was it Ireland. More on them soon.

Like many residents of Horns, Kevin A. had a strange, nay compelling fascination with chickens. He often slept at the dinner table so that he could more easily enter their fowl dreams and frolic amongst them at times. He thought the eating of cocks was borderline cockamamie and often mentioned this to his “Kevin brothers” C. and E., munching and crunching away on either side of him. He sometimes arranged the carcasses in ritual poses also learned from witches to more interestingly translate between fair wake and fowl sleep (Fairmount and Fowlerton).

Which reminds me that he must fill up with gas and air today across the street at Wolfy’s, fuel and tires running low on his new 1955 Porche 550 Spyder Convertible purchased from Marcus Fox Smartville day before Tuesday on what he considered a sucker of a deal, curses be damned. Only 50,000 lindens plus 5,000 for shipping. Stamp it: BARGAIN.

He is established here; he really cannot go back to Regaltown. I’m not so sure about Space Ghost, however.

—–

“I wonder what happened to Kevin, Space Ghost?”

“Kevin who?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0015, 0310, Horns of Hatton^, Maebaleia/Satori^^