Category Archives: 0312

new direction

She’d lost her spaceship. She thinks she may have left it back in what the locals called Mayberry, an airy mountain of a hill (or something). But she was too tired from all the walking and searching to get off these Lost Angel chairs right now. Maybe in a 1/2 an hour. But maybe: never. The many and the *done*. Truth be told, she was a variant character anyway and will probably not be missed.

—–

Troop was a truly important character though, and it’s baked into his name: True Opp. He started out as a “mere” toy, an Mmmmmm, just like his cousin Grassy from another mother who just happens to be sisters with his own. They don’t talk about Jerry any more. And Philburt is right out of any discussion between them. But Uranus… ahh, that’s a different topic and one that’s interested both of ’em for a long time, starting way back when Tropp, then just Opp or Campbell O’Pine, had his first (Sunklands blog) post dedicated to himself.

“Well it looks like I found it, Grassy,” he says 1/2 to himself, since the only other person in the room was only 1/2 listening. “Uranus; the blue planet.”

“There’s someone out there, in the dunes,” the other person spoke. “Someone… fidgety.”

“Okay, CUT! Let’s change fidgety to nervous. Is that okay, Campbell?”

In another scene later that day:

“Alright, then the crook comes in and you drop your gun and it hits the floor and goes off, hitting your right heel. This is going to be *hilarious*.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0027, 0312, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^

having a hoot

“Look out below! Coming down,” he continued while sliding.

“Made it I see,” Marty greeted him nonchalantly. “My new personal shadow.”

Roger Pine Ridge walked over. “Whatchadoing?”

Marty has wife Marg bludgeon Homer with a weighted purse to begin, then answers. “Trying, ahem (death of Boss Burns now with purse), to figure out the clue Duncan Avocado got from this game.”

“Duncan *who*?”

“Avocado.” Marty has Willy walk up to Marg and belch in her face, then steal her deadly purse and kill Mo the bartender with it. Quick as a wink.

“Well I say. Listen, how much longer are you going to be here? In this, er, *firehouse*?”

“I am the fireman,” Marty states plainly. “As long as I wish — this is my project.” Death to Principle Poop now.

“O-kay.” Roger Pine Ridge tries to decide how to exit gracefully from this awkward situation. He was tailing Marty to this Eveningwood place, true, but didn’t expect him to be engrossed in anything like this, and declare it was totally a situation of his concoction and that he had everything under control. Fires rage outside! But here he was, cool and calm and collected, like it was pouring down rain all over the countryside.

“Just — gotta — find — the ragamuffin.” Many bleeping noises now. “*There*” Skateboarding Bart Smipson got run over by a doughnut truck headed to Homer’s.

—–

Roger Pine Ridge decides to wait on the roof. Everything seemed familiar. He stares out at the Eveningwood cityscape realizing there were were no raging fires and that Marty was right and he had everything under control, at least here. The light side of the moon rose over the horizon. Yes, must have been a trace of that brain damage he feared so much, the other, thought-to-be-left-behind Roger leaking in a bit.

Marty beams up, beaming. “Found it!”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0312, Eveningwood

3rd (of 4?)

I returned to the island of Meaux — seen here in the distance behind a quite familiar fluttering owl flag — for more potential links and clues about where to head next. This newest owl sighting seemed to dictate the action.

I fairly quickly ended up on Half Hitch, an island just beyond the south*east* corner of Nautilus, certainly my mainland continent of focus now that Collagesity has returned to it. So I’ve visited Castle Valeria in Nautilus’ northwest corner directly opposite here on the continent seemingly based on a 31×31 square, and then Valgate and also the overall Viterbo environs kind of tucked in its northeast corner. Now: southeast. I appear to be perhaps circling the square, a variation on the old alchemical paradox of squaring the circle. Circle near historical Valgate, Montana is also a hint here, to add onto, of course, the close proximity of Valeria and (Green)castle in Jasper County, IA., a square based county after all, just like its twin in IL where all the names of my collage series down through the years comes from. Up until the newest: Picturetown. Something is different now; shifted.

Exploring…

Was that a shouting (or singing?) man etched in the bow of this wrecked ship? What would be the utterance if so? Was this an angry or joyous person?

*Anyhoot* (Jeffrey Phillips likes to toss that word around a lot these days to segue between trains of thought), back to Half Hitch. Climbing the highest hill there to take a look around. Climbing, climbing…

—–

From the vantage point at the top, Jeffrey Phillips takes in the sight of Captain Crazy’s noisy, dirty trawler pulling into the small harbor of the town. Here was a man who might know something. So it’s back down off the hill for Jeffrey and into the tavern where he sees him and his men — well, man — head into. Cpt. Crazy use to have 8 men working on his ship but now he’s down to 1 thanks to the Child Labor Board cracking down on him last Fall. The only one over 18, heck the only one over 12. Here was a man who not only bent the rules, but turned them into salty pretzels to consume after any drinking jag. He was crazy, yes. But he still was probably the sanest man to visit Half Hitch today, what with that loonie convention going on over at neighboring Nautilus Island (yes, there is an island named Nautilus in addition to a continent, although the island and continent are next to each other and Nautilus Island is sometimes included as a part of the Nautilus continent, logically enough; but it causes some confusion, even to long time Our Second Lyfe residents).

Let’s not worry about those Nautilus loonies nor go into any details on why they’re even crazier than Crazy. Half Hitch is definitely not a part of any Nautilus, although it lies, like I said, just beyond the southeast corner of the continent, and also just beyond the western edge of the island. It’s similar to Castle Valeria just past the northeast corner in this way, since that sim wasn’t part of the original Nautilus either — it’s an add on. Let’s just move into a dialog with Crazy to dig up more information…

—–

Jeffrey Phillips was going to interject himself but the two mates, captain and one man crew, seemed to be having some kind of romantic dinner going on, what with the red coral heart between them and the, well, occasional mouth kissing and all the accompanying holding of hands across the table inside this heart. Jeffrey was, of course, okay with the Captain and his mate being gay. His half sister on his mother father’s side was half so and they got along better than any of his other percentage siblings. Viewpoints matter. Jeffrey would bide his time, having nothing else pressing on his calendar at the moment. Crime was down in Collagesity thanks to the new-ish police department. 5 fingerprince had been lifted from the more serious crime scenes, and Jeffrey had them all under control. Now was the time to synchronize the continent to his city to ensure more stability, and circling its square seemed to be the key.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0312, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Nautilus^^, Outer Islands, Rim Isles

00240312

“What am I going to do, Giant Tiger? Tessa soo wants to find her half brother, the one that’s been on the lam for so long. Full sister Lisa is trying too, but she got stalled at New Island. Oh Tiggie, if only red hadn’t been swapped with orange back in the days.”

“20 – 09,” pronounced the tiger, very communicative for his kind. This is why Charlene the Punk liked him so much. She came here sometimes near the Rubi Woods to chat with him, confer with him. Because he was very wise as well, as all tigers are. Most just don’t like talking to humans and their ilk very much. Feel like it’s a waste of breath to them. Better things to do, and so on.

“Are – you staying with – Jeffrie?” His voice was deep, like the depths of the jungle he originates from. Deep with tone, deep with wisdom. Giant Tiger knew that this was not a good idea. Most likely.

“Well, we both got kicked out of Green Yarn together I’ll give you *that*,” she said, still swinging upside down toward and away from him, but with her head now getting swimmy. She rights herself in the seat, considers the issue again from a more sober point. Charlene knew Giant Tiger was still listening to her, wasn’t distracted. He was patient too — another virtue. In fact, I don’t think he had any bad qualities to him. Except the voracious appetite that sometimes included human babies and even toddlers. Toddles and he wouldn’t make the best of friends, for instance. I suppose that aligns him with the Oz Tiger, who desired the same and lamented his need to do so. And it also makes sense that the Tiger is so near the Rubi Woods, come to think of it, since that’s Oz related as well with the ruby slipper connection and all, although that’s just from the derivative movie and not the books, where they were instead silver. But… *that* goes into the whole Sylver Forest which the Rubi Woods are just a remnant stand of timber from. 4 sims it covered back in the days. 20 – 09 or so.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0024, 0312, Heterocera^^, Rubi^

Sepisexton

“DONT.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0312, Apple's Orchard, Black Ice, NWES Island^

channel

He stared at the amber light beyond the end of the dividing canal, wondering if it had been moved from the wall to the floor.

And what it meant. Was he *finally* reaching?

—–

On the other end, Zapppa hungrily eyes the now almost vacant Bigfoot Bar, which apparently will be up for rent soon. He’s waiting to pounce. He has the idea to bring (Dinah and) Moe’s Bar of Cassandra City to NWES Island. And explore more of that Montana/Zircon tweezers theme to himself escape the grave. I think it will happen. It’s the exact same building after all. Fate: bar exchanged for another bar. Continuity ensured.

And just in time for our first seasonal bigfoot sighting (?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0022, 0312, Apple's Orchard, Neptune, NWES Island^

pirate

138 dead. Chain reaction. The words reverberated in his head like a broken record or something. A repetitive sea shanty — that’s better. He remembers to paint again. Dreamy dreams can wait. He tries to set them aside but more return en masse. Chain reaction. 138 dead, 138 dead, 138 dead. Perhaps it is time to write; maybe the *other* voices will drown out *these* voices. He moves from the canvas to the typewriter to begin a long overdue project. He inserts a blank sheet. Like life itself, waiting to be written upon, he thinks. Fresh start. He presses caps lock and centers the page 2/3rd up with 3 backspaces. He types a G, then an A, then an S. He stares at what he’s typed so far. T, then, O. He pauses again. N to finish. It has begun.

That should keep the bastard busy for a while.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0021, 0312, collages 2d, Gaston^^, The Waste^^

Except

“My latest creation, Golden Jim. The Rubi Gardens. 2 parcels in 1. I have almost encircled…”

“No you haven’t,” countered Golden Jim, wiser than the girl fairy for now. “You will never encircle these enchanted woods, except…”

“*Except,*” spoke the *now* wiser child. She was wiser than Golden Jim almost all the time except, in this post, for that little lapse back there. Except.

“Except what, child?” Golden Jim stared at her, at the woods behind her. *Their* woods. They become one through it.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0020, 0312, Heterocera^^, Rubi^

the problem with 3 and 4

“You don’t understand,” pleaded Olive to SEAN “Green” Penn. “Beige — I mean, Frankie *can’t* join our ranks. We must remain three colors and three colors alone. The contracts–”

“I don’t want to hear another *word* about those f-cking contracts!” shouted SEAN over the drumming, on his 5th Corona-V of the night. “And lean back and stay 6 feet the f-ck away from me, ho.”

Olive leaned back, but pressed him on the ho part. “When did you start calling *women* that?”

“That’s what you *are*,” he replied, defiance in his voice and washing another french fry down with a swig of beer. “With, erm, that *policeman*. The older one, not the younger one. Jeep or something.”

She laid down all the cards on the table. “Listen, *SEAN*. I’m here to help.”

—–

Pink was sitting too close to Olive but Olive didn’t mind. She knew it was all a ruse.

“Weelll? Whatdaya think? Pretty good tonight. I was feeling it.”

But SEAN “Green” Penn had other things on his mind. “Listen, erm, Pink. We have to leave this town. We gotta get away.” He glanced over at Olive, understanding the truth now. He didn’t want to look too long.

“Leave?” replied Marsha “Pink” Krakow. “But we just — just *got* here again. What about Beige, I mean, Frankie?”

“We’ll just have to take her along,” responded SEAN rapidly, sobering up real quick. “*And* the creepy photography teacher. We’ll just have to drag out the story elsewhere.”

“2 weeks,” reinforced Olive to her left. “That’s all we have.” She looked down at SEAN’s big feet tapping anxiously against his bar stool, as if they were on fire.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0312, Corsica^^, Storybrook^

hidden?

“Come here dear,” Mary Pippens requested from the open door. “I want to show you something.”

“In a minute dear,” spoke her husband of 29 years, Achilles. “I’m recharging myself on The Diagonal.” One day it will solve my nose problem, he then thinks while beholding the cursed big honker between his eyes. I’m sure of it. 15 minutes a day: that’s how long the church told him to do, no more no less. He looks down at his watch.

Two minutes and 37 second later, he began moving to the now closed door to join his wife at the bay window of their bedroom. “Look there, hubby. I stare out this window every day at one of my beloved, local hills, and this structure *definitely* hasn’t been here before. Here, I’ll open the window so you can take a better gander. Right over there on the old Elaine Ratio property. She’s rarely home any more, you know.” With her arthritis weary arm, Mary points toward the visible corner of my recently erected 32 square meter house in Instabar, the one Summerhill Nova warned could spell TROUBLE for me once again.

“We should alert the local neighborhood watch. Who’s the head of that thing now?”

“Hidi,” Achilles said. “I think — can’t remember the last name.” He sniffed and the cats ran away.

“Well, I’ll try to track down this Hidi tomorrow.”

“Good luck.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0018, 0312, Corsica^^, Instabar^