“I’d like an identity, please.”
—–
He manifested in an apartment formerly occupied by sisters named Feng Sui and Qi. Was he sufficiently hidden?
No. “Who are you?” asked the lady in red who had just entered the room. He’d been caught!
“I’d like an identity, please.”
—–
He manifested in an apartment formerly occupied by sisters named Feng Sui and Qi. Was he sufficiently hidden?
No. “Who are you?” asked the lady in red who had just entered the room. He’d been caught!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0310, Kowloon^^
She looked down at her, this Winnie, but obviously Wendy again. As she was Wendy. We’re all Wendy in this Second Lyfe of ours, a Wendy City of sorts through and through. Cub Run. Centerpoint. “Release the Pooh!” she wanted to command from afar with voice so loud you could hear it clear over to Heterocera. “Allow Winnie to become Wendy!”
Someone asked once why she wasn’t herself in Our Second Lyfe and instead always in disguise, a strange question at the time but perhaps starting to make some sense. The man-woman uttering it was obviously kind of insane, though. She suspected a sea monster because of the seaweed hair, despite the pink tutu. Release the Pooh, she also mentioned. The famous toy bear rolled the wagon with the honey pot down the cobblestone street of town, pausing in front of Perch to peer in at the past. Spaced Ghost turned back into Space. The honey pot was suddenly something else; the held red umbrella was both inside and outside at once…
The pirates were coming and she didn’t know what to do. Directly over the throne now, they had stolen her mistletoe. She wasn’t jovial about it.
They’d make landfall by nightfall. The clock kept ticking, tick tick tick.
I should strike first, she suddenly realized, thinking of the Big Wheel and the 12 at the top. Everyone was scared of her, after all.
“Gotcha!” she exclaimed at 12:37.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0027, 0310, Hana Lei^^
—–
“All gone,” she exclaims in a thick accent as Marty walks up from behind, probably Russian. “Ruble.”
“Rubles?” Marty attempted as a (weak) joke. She turns. There was gold in her eyes.
Marty checked her profile. She seemed to be an artist, or was at least attached to an art colony. He decided to head there next. Maybe they would have more information about these Ruins of Lustre off the coast of Roost. But not that Roost: a different one. One that Marty knew quite well through Lemon back in the days. Roost Never Sleeps. It’s where Lemon was formed, actually. But it all seemed a big blur now. Too much excitement; too much hot coffee; too much *speed*.
She couldn’t come. She was stuck at this centerpoint, a mere marker. “Goodbye girl with the golden eyes!” he cried while flying away.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0026, 0310, Nautilus, NORTH, Rim Isles, Rooster's Peninsula
“What happened to the doctor?”
“Doctor… who?” she replied, talking gesture repeating over and over even when she was silent, like now… with me, waiting for a reply. This dame’s head was as empty as a coke bottle in Spring. Time to meet Charlene anyway at the coffee shop; explain to her why I’m here.
“Excuse me. I’ll be back in a millennium.” And he was out of the castle and down in the village.
“The doctor is dead,” she finally explained 15 minutes after the exit, coinciding with Jeffrey Phillips saying down in the village…
“I’m here on a tip from Tor. He knows about Viterbo, you know, the location of that last post, the one I wasn’t in, a rarity these days,” he extended more. If Charlene were channeling future self Fern Stalin, she might have understood all this metadata. But as of the present she was giving him a rather blank stare back. She gave up a cryptozoology lecture at prestigious Mammoth Cave Institute to meet him here. This better be good — no more metadata!
“H-how does he know Meaux?”
“He lives near it,” Jeffrey replied rapidly while leaning back and tossing his hand flippantly in the air. “I believe his house may be the closest mortal to their land. But you should know that. You’re Fern after all.”
“Not any more.”
“Huh?”
“I mean, not in this moment.” Charlene knew if she gave up Fern she gave up any hope for the future which is the present which is the past. And that couldn’t happen. But it grows tiring, the constant channeling and channeling funneling. One day she will become rid of it, but only when she’s Fern.
“Why are you here?” Jeffrey ventured, taking a closer look at his date for the night across from him. She’d been hurt before. She didn’t like the pain. Soon she’d be Fern Stalin and have the upper hand at any rusty twist and turn.
“Viterbo,” she deflected (channeled), letting the word hang in the air like a demented sunset gone cold wrong. The Sun wouldn’t go down so the Moon couldn’t come up, alchemy all awry. Jeffrey Phillips was finally at a loss for words. Good.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0025, 0310, Teepot^^
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.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0024, 0310, Canada, Canada/Picturetown
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.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0022, 0310, Jeogeot, New Island^, West End
“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?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0020, 0310, Braynard's Place^^
“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.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0310, Asha^, Corsica