SWOOOSH.
“Hey, what happened to Sampson? Who are *you*?”
“Sampson??” Raphael exclaimed. “Sampson’s dead.”
“Then who the hell are you?” I asked again with more emphasis.
“I… am Raphael. And I haven’t seen a soul since the… accident. The artifact must have–”
SWOOOSH.
“Hey,” said Sampson. “Where the f– did you go? You’re here, and then poof–”
SWOOOSH.
“–you were gone.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0048, 0313, Starfield
“I always wanted to break down the 4th wall,” Alice responded when I asked her if she liked her new home in the woods. “Now I can speak directly to you, the observer! We have no barriers between us.”
“Ka,” exuded Ka to her left, also joyful. “Skwi,” squeaked Skwi in glee to her right. If Mistress Alice is okay with this then her pet cat and squirrel respectively are too. Let the Flathardt experience commence!
Oh. I guess I should explain where we are. It’s a bit difficult. Let’s just move around and see who else is here and I’m sure everything will become crystal clear as soon as possible.
“Where do you want the Big Arm,” issued Ted the dump truck driver, tired from a long journey across upper Woodlawndia to get here.
“Just over there. Beside the Big Banana,” said pointing Pinky, sort of a manager here I suppose and dependent on outside help until the village gets its own fleet of trucks and drivers. “Ellie, give him a, er, *hand* if you don’t mind.”
“Sure thing,” the elephant said after they all had a chuckle over the joke, even tired Ted, although he laughed the least. Still about 5 seconds.
Not really becoming clear yet… oh, here’s another group to investigate.
“This giant frog skin is soo smooth and colorful,” gushes Pantomime Penny to her father or perhaps her brother.
“Don’t touch it,” he says down to her. “Warts,” he summarizes. I was thinking poison and I believe by the look the lamb is giving him she did too.
Well, let’s just back up, zoom out. Out out out.
There we are. That grove of green pine trees, with undergrowth consisting only of rhododendron which you can’t really see from the air. And, most remarkable, despite this being the top of a hill, all land in this grove is completely and utterly flat. Hence the name Flathead, as in flat head of a hill. Plus that whole Montana thing we’ll get back to in a while.
The toy avatars that are already here debated whether to name their new community the same as the hill, Flathead, or instead go with Flatheart, meaning the heart of the hill since their community is much smaller than Flathead itself and in the basic center or “heart” of everything. At least in their eyes. They settled on a portmanteau of sorts: Flathardt, 1/2 head 1/2 heart (kind of). And one of the more vocal citizens at the meeting was a big Dale Earnhardt fan and owned a #8 toy race car in his honor (see right of frog above). So that probably played a role in the compromise name too.
What next for Flathardt? I’m guessing toy train tracks, since I’ll be the one hauling them up here and laying them down. I wanted to bring the tracks up today but I couldn’t find them in the junk heap that is our basement. So I settled for some other toys. Hopefully tomorrow, then. Weather should be okay again.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0047, 0313, Blue Mountain, Flathardt, Google Street View, Toy Avatars, Yards Mountain
She thought she’d go back to the beginning of the road, where she started her story in this here Burg of the general Nawt Vaya region of the Jeogeot continent of the Western Hemisphere of virtual Our Second Lyfe. A call, I believe. No, perhaps a calling, as in a profession. She was always bright, super bright in fact. The unusual drew her attention. Cryptozoology was eventually the chosen study. She’d be a professor, occasionally publish articles and present papers and have a rather easy life of it as more a skeptic on the subject than a believer per common public opinion. Then the call — yes, a call was also involved, as in phone. Someone dialed all the numbers except 4, which would instead connect you to The Moon. “Hallo?” she said from her faculty desk next to the faculty lounge whose thin walls enabled her to keep up with all the local faculty gossip. Dr. Brown dating Dr. Green to the chagrin of Dr. Blue? All in a day’s listening.
“It’s me. Wolvie.”
“*Wolvie*. You old dog. Hadn’t heard from you since–”
“Lester’s Bay, I know. I ran away, sorry.”
“You ran away as a *dog*. Dude, what gives?”
“I’m… not who I seem.”
“I *gathered*.”
“Anyway. Charlene. I need some help. Something in your department.”
“Tell me about it, bro of mine.” She knew it was one of those loose ends in her life that eventually had to be tied up. Her own flesh and blood brother a shapeshifter! But academia called and she put such psychic phenomena out of her mind. She had grades to worry about, peer pressure, etc. She was young in her position, with tenure a fur piece down the road.
“Bigfoot,” he just blurted the name out, which he knew would catch her attention. “Sighted in your vicinity.”
Her vicinity, let’s see. Yes I guess this would have to be Nawt Vaya State University, then, hmm. Interesting. Perhaps a strong Psychics department. Or maybe that’s Physics. Anyway, the link had been made, the one between Charlene and Wolvie her brother, not Psychics and Physics. Although maybe that fits in too.
“Give me a location,” she cited rather mechanically, more a professor’s standard tone in this dog eat dog world of general college academia, especially for a female professor who, by default, had more to prove.
He did more than that. He sent her a picture. “Bigfoot!” she cried aloud, giving Dr. Black a start from his faculty lounge chair just beyond the wall. “So it’s real.” And just down the road from her in that Nawt Vaya underwater tunnel, she observed.
She understandably took the rest of the day off to investigate. Which eventually landed her on the doorstep of Roberts and Franklin in one of those 2 locations shown before, just as Wolvie planned. Charlene would do the choosing for him, as it turned out. Should have seen it coming.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0313, Jeogeot, Juho, Nawt Vaya, South Lake, The Burg
“May I remind you just here that this *could* have been you.”
“No time for dwelling in alternate realities, Jonny. The Prophet’s successor just disappeared in front of us (!). After talking about Alpha Centauri!”
“I wish I could be comforted,” Jonny continued nonplussed, “that aliens were up there, looking after our well being or *not* looking after it. But, truth be told, the only blood sucking vampires up in space with reptilian skin are the corps sitting atop their high towers in their fancy, snakeskin suits with their eyes all lit up from all the eddies they’re taking from the common people down below. I’m a realist V(al). It’s all here and now for me. Look around. What’s in front of your face. No escapist fantasy for this ol’ rocker boy.”
“Speaking of which, Jonny. What do you know about (the town of) Rocky Boy out in the desert? Per chance: named for you?”
“I’d rather not go down that path, talking about alternate realities.” He looks down at his feet, exhales. “Yeah, admittedly I had a hand in that you could say, ha.” He dexterously wiggles the fingers on his silver one, looks over at the Hustle Girl again as we’ve started to call her. He was expressing *his* desired reality in no uncertain terms.
Jonny later said that people *can* just wink out in Nightsity; it’s not unheard of. Because it’s all part of the Matrix, he expressed — everything we know is, he held firm.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0045, 0313, Badlands, C2077, Small China
“Oh Lichen. Why did you have to take me so far?”
By the time they climbed up to the higher plateau all the snow had melted from the night before. And Lichen had turned into A. Pond the true traveling companion as Fern was now Dr. Kelp.
“F-ck Dr. Kelp and her two timing ways,” wrote Rose T. in her journal that night, paraphrasing something similar from the morning entry. Two a day until she catches up, she’s determined. Catastrophe set her back.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0044, 0313, Blue Feather Sea^, Maebaleia/Satori, Montana
“Say again! How the f-ck we get fired?” Laramie on the phone to Frank Lynn.
“Man, it was partly all that bullshit you pulled… and partly this repo’s old man making me crash the car into the…
“… hold on, Laramie, hold on. I’m walkn’ up to the car wash where we lost the table. Gotta go pay my respects.”
Earlier that day:
“That the place?”
“Yeah, that’s the place, man. *Whoa*.”
“Drive into it. Right through the f-cking window, and fast. Or I’ll put two rounds in the back of your skull, and do it myself.”
Frank saw his life flash before him, just like he did day before yesterday’s yesterday, Wednesday I think we determined. Syncronicity, carma, call it what you like. He floors it into the object.
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0043, 0313, GTA
She was at the point of auditioning acts for the new bar. This one was a stand up comedian from Cork.
“What do you call a parade of rabbits hopping backwards?”
“Receding hare lines,” he answers himself after a beat. She finds that joke especially pertinent, since she copied a lot of this decor from a place named Rabbit Island.
Rabbit Island items: free to copy yourself!
“I don’t need to hear any more,” she spoke up. “You’re on the bill.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0313, Big Woods, GTA, Hana Lei^^, Jeogeot
The disappearance of the gargoyles on the return passage really started throwing her game off. She fell on some loose ruble in their former room, near the crosshairs where your hair and also head could get roasted and toasted. No longer. “Where *are* they? What *happened* to them?” she said in a panic as she brushed off her polka dot ribbon dress and attempted to stand upright again. “Am I even in the right room?” But she knew the steep stairs behind her could lead only to this place.
More obstacles were ahead, including an invisible barrier impeding her way where there was open air before. She felt like a rat in a maze, trying to find the cheese that is the surface of this Cass City town and the return to her warm, safe desk at the mayor’s office. She felt in her dress pocket — *curses*; never should have worn this cursed dress. But the coins (real? fake?) and the figurine of the statue were still there. If only she could find the way out.
—–
The Mayor checked the time on her watch, cursing as well. “Where the f— is she?” she said aloud. “And, more importantly, where are those coins and that statue?” Town Council meeting in 12 hours. She *can’t* postpone any longer (!).
She turns to the map on the display board. “*Corvo*. *You’re* doing this. Aren’t you, you little bugger of an island?”
“ANSWER ME!” And here I believe she started to sob inconsolably, remembering the Abyss again.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0313, Cass City^, Maebaleia/Satori
“I’ve decided not to write trash, Eddie, my Edward.”
“Call me Eddie,” he repeated. She never listened. Much like “cousin” Tessa to Edward, the *real* Edward.
So many faux cousin/lover pairings in this novel already, and we’re not even halfway through quite yet. First there was Eddie and Edward, the faux being affixed to the lover part in that case. Then Tessa and Edward, cousin linked with faux in that example. And now supposed cousins Serenity Lane and Shelley Lane (Struthers). Let’s just have Marsha “Pink” Krakow bring up the last pairing to Edward as they’re laying in bed in their 2n1 trailer, wishing to have their cake and eat it too again.
“Edward?” she said after thinking some of these things herself, mirroring the actual author (me) once more.
“Yes?” he relented, not bothering to correct her now.
“As I was saying…”
“Oz. I know. Rock told me all about it. And Gill. What do you call him? Vain and Artery Boyy, right. And the child as well.”
“Toddles,” she said to this. To please a child, she thought.
“All 3 approached me, Rock and Toddles and then Vain and Artery Boyy separate from them. Told me how much they enjoyed the new novel and the switch of genres and how they hoped you keep it up.”
“Oh. Wonderful! I wonder why they didn’t tell me themselves?”
“Probably…” he shifts his weight in the bed, assuming a more upright position, “because you were visiting that large prison complex over in Rockaway Beach. I myself didn’t have time to tell you until now. Had to keep reinforcing to you that it’s all right, and the, ahem, tour will be over soon.”
“Took some time to get from top to bottom, yeah,” she admitted. She got pretty scared about halfway down, even though the internal bowling alley reassured her that TILE was there, even amongst all this negativity. The light shines through.
Eddie, her Edward, was with her after that — called him over. “So. Are you going to go in that direction, go back to Meat City? Or stay here in Big Sandy?”
Was that the ultimate question? Past Broadwater, the grid took over, Utah to Omega link locked in again until it bent away on the other side of town. She saw this now. She *had* to see.
“Let’s give it a couple more posts,” which is probably what I would have said in her shoes. She decided not to bring up that Serenity Lane wasn’t Shelley’s cousin but her ex-lover, her ex-wife in fact. And now since Shelley was out of the picture she apparently has designs on the “replacement”. Drugged back to Meat City against her will! Prison of all places. She could have spent one day there, she could have spent a lifetime there. Big. Practically Big Sandy big sitting up there wide and long and thick in the sky.
Back to the sand the way she knew how. With Edward.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0313, Bellisaria, Omega^^, Sandfly, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^, Utah
“‘I look like a prettier Jesus.’ Love it. Do you recall?”
“No,” replied Clemenesta, not as convinced as her partner Laura about the ineffectiveness of Christianity in comparison to TILE. Or FILE.
“Back behind the church. Underneath the neon sign — practically neon itself with the day-glo. And then there was something else behind it, away from the dumpster.” Laura tries to make out the words in her mind but can’t. “Nah, it’s gone.”
That dumpster is sin, thought Clemenesta here, drawing a line. I do not accept the eradication of the rank in total favor of the FILE; I will not accept that. Nor the things written upon it. “Who’s prettier than Jesus?” she decides to word her skepticism. “You?”
“*All* of us, maybe,” replied Laura, waving her arms around the bar even though no one else is there — oh, here comes someone, she then sees. Two young people walking in. Probably tourists in town what with the look in their eyes. Maybe from the hills.
“I think it’s *one* particular person you believe is a prettier Jesus,” spoke Clemenesta, acting like a maw now, which she was. To Laura, who was her daughter. “I think you know who that is. You worship *her* — try to weasel your way out of that (!).”
Laura thought of the 7th, and what *could* happen there if one allowed it. The pew was all set up. The gap between humanity and God filled. Blue and yellow blue and yellow blue and yellow. And from it the green and the red, in that order. Or so most Tilists say; there are some who put red over green as they do 6 over 7. But they are in the minority: every 6 out of 13 or so.
“Maw,” she finally relents. “The FILE is everything. The FILE saves, just like TILE saves. Jesus, the rank, can be cast aside now. It is *his* will, even. Yes, I went ahead and said it. It is his will,” she repeated. Clemenesta kept giving her that look (“the eye”). She would not be won over that easily.
Harking back to the neon cross, Laura envisions Jesus sacrificing his central s to saves to be done with it.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0313, Black Ice, Jeogeot, Maebaleia/Satori, Neptune, NWES Island^
Sunklands 