Category Archives: 0314

00480314

“And so Edward disappeared back into the woodwork with the seance, hopefully never to be seen again. The End. Thank you so much, Lexi — dawg — for your channeling efforts on this matter. I owe you big time.”

“You’re welcome. But… scroll back to the first picture, Frank,” she requested, trying to stay calm for appearances. She wanted to check and compare.

Yup, that’s him all right. Only the colored version of Pierrot was returned to the walls of the castle, she then knew, and even that might only be temporary. The white one was still out and about, and causing trouble by the looks of what was going on up on the hillside over there. Lexi didn’t have the heart to tell Frank the bad news.

Don’t believe him! Lexi wanted to cry to a potential convert also spied in the distance. Everything *can* be fixed. Her whole existence depends on that very truth.

(TBC)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0314, Jeogeot, Mythopolis, Nawt Vaya, NVFS

00470314

Something’s happened over in Crooked, psychic Myrtle Beech intuits from her position at the center of the island while spying the distinct looking Constantynople building through a gap. One person would definitely know and that’s Old Orange (= All Orange). On her way…

“Okay, Old Orange. Start moving your dangly red legs which are the same as your forked tongue and spill the truth for a change!”

Old/All Orange complies.

—–

MEANWHILE… world maker Philip Linden had made it over to Constanynople library’s Special Collections, despite his head blowing up about 57 times now on his journey across the island south to north. “What’s in those crooked bookshelves over there?” he couldn’t help asking room attendant Swanie Rivers, trying not to flap her wings in disgust and irritation despite the gum. And the gun; both poppers, if both dormant for the moment. Tough stretch of land in the middle of the island — The Abyss some call it — and he decided to pack some heat in his pocket beside his pack of Wriggles chews already planted there. Back to the crooked shelves, he believes he’s seen them in a dream.

Flattie cleaning robot-lady Ross C. slides through the secret door connecting SC with the rest of the library and takes a listen while dusting the totally straight shelves — easy work. Is this really Merk Coolie Brighton in disguise? she thinks. She’d only seen him twice since his death almost 3 1/2 years ago, job killed off along with his Records Center, which he had become the functional manager of down through the years. Blue Boy, she thinks. He called me Blue Boy! Do I *look* blue to you, Merk Coolie Brighton? But I can hear him say he was just trying to kill off the library in turn, making everyone he actually cared about within a color of his TILE, red yellow green blue, with me at the end timewise. It was all up to me to find out the truth, she thinks. 42. Bad juju, and so on and so forth.

But she can’t quite make out what they’re saying, what Philip Linden or what appears to be Philip Linden actually came here for. If it’s that book, that one single book, then she can slam the door on the subject, case closed. But if it isn’t… then the door remains open.

It all depends on what happened in Crooked.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0314, Constantynople, Nautilus

00460314

They put her up in a motel across from City Hall where she’d be working most of the time. She took Electra’s room, who, being the former mayor of this here burg, had left the scene for parts unknown, perhaps back to her original home in the Sansara continent’s snowy region. She left behind an assortment of, here, little used shawls, coats, and toboggans in this much more temperate climate of middle southern Jeogeot, so hasty she was to get out of town. Disgraced (!). She didn’t even say goodbye to her kids Wolvie (originally: Bert) and Charlene, since she hadn’t been on real speaking terms with them since they started dating the same person. Wolvie she wasn’t as mad at. But *Charlene* — how dare she date a another girl. Now it became really dirty, this threesome. She wondered if they did it that way — all 3 together I mean. Emily had enough such tapes at her disposal that they could get ideas. In fact as she was thinking about it she’d bet money on it, perhaps up to 10.

Back to Wheeler and the present. We’ll deal with Electra and the consequences of leaving her children behind later. Right now there was only a bed in her room, a small dresser, a Gustav Klimt painting print called “The Dancer” from his late period, and that’s it. She logically wondered about closet space for her many clothes she’d recently bought on the marketplace, discount mind you, because you can find so many cheap there, especially older models (she doesn’t mind retro; thinks it’s got a strong future). Not living in the shadow of her locked-in-childhood looks daughter, she can experiment, mix and match blouses, skirts, and shoes and such. She’s kind of living the life, come to think of it. And all this mayor stuff is just for play. She’ll invite Newt over as soon as she fixes up the room to her standards. And then perhaps think about a larger occupancy for the both of them. If it comes to that. 1st “proper” date tomorrow beyond just the marriage and attached rendezvouses. Not ice cream this time but an actual meal in an actual, pretty upscale restaurant. More details very soon.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0314, Jeogeot, The Burg

00450314

I backed up after passing him, intending to ask the obvious, something like, “Enjoying that Chinese food, bud?” But he piped up first.

“You again,” he said. He recognized me! I thought. And I him too. Desert. Burning. But in the morning: okay. Just an Arasaka crash test dummy robot, if still deactivated. What I mean is that he didn’t have a scratch on him from the burning. And now: here. But, just as quick, “Oh, sorry; never mind,” and started eating away again even though he obviously couldn’t. No internal workings, I mean by that. So I moved on, logged it in as yet another glitch in the matrix. But not after seeing he had a yellow head and was sitting on the same bench as a redhead…

… and then two benches down with only one person between them, a blue haired lady sitting with a green haired dame. TILE again. Or very close, close enough to count, I figured. I was still noticing.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0045, 0314, Badlands, C2077, Small China

00440314

When they reached the top of Birdtail and looked over, a surprise awaited them, like a field manifesting between the two matching, pencil shaped (ached nipples?) projectiles sticking up there, except in the distance. It shouldn’t. The cursed thing known as The Flesh Pit, mystery no more, would follow them wherever they went now — since they were a part of it, *inside* it, actually. To the edges of the Earth and beyond.

Then they found it back down on the plateau over an edge as well, reinforcing the insidedness. More projection.

Back in *our* reality (Our Second Lyfe):

“Damn thing wasn’t pushing through here yesterday!” Leroy Jackson Jones Johnson reported back to A. Pond over the incessant, evil humming. Uncle Barnacles’ replacement. A fellow Northerner ready to be replaced himself. ‘Bout time for A. to finally head down south to the “Slums” to pick up some new recruits, fresh meat matching fresh meat.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0044, 0314, Maebaleia/Satori, Montana, X-City^

00430314 (hand of Tin)

I opened up the blinds to a world I never got to experience. They didn’t promise me a window in my apartment — I do remember that aspect. Food, books, art, even a woman. But not a window. It meant something to me, something deep. There was a definite backrooms vibe out there with its colorful tubes and slide-like objects. I was told this is like Japan. I couldn’t wait to get out there… and explore.

But first I had to check out more of the apartment. Food, books, art, just like the other one, the one from the *lesser* world. But not a woman — sole drawback so far that I could determine in this much more realistic one. Then in looking at a particular object I’ll get to in a moment, an image of a person named Han swam before my eyes. Lover. Left her behind when I went, yes, on tour. I was a musician in this life as well — it was all kind of flooding back on me; too much so maybe. Band named Sunami, without the T. I think. Right, without it. And maybe another letter added in in its place. Sunamai? I picked up a handily placed guitar in the apartment, sat down on a nearby ottoman and automatically started to strum a song strange but familiar about a talking horse and saying goodbye to it. I remembered more about her through the heavy metal-ish music. 1/2 Japanese, although you couldn’t tell it. She didn’t like me leaving. She did — *ohh*.”

I look down at my silver hand and arm, doing the strumming in this case. She did *this*. Maybe not literally, I realized, but metaphorically anyway. Heck, maybe literally too — couldn’t remember the details; perhaps too painful. She was trying to snatch away my livelihood if not my life.

I had to do one more thing before leaving. I went back to the bathroom, looked up from the sink.

No it was nothing like the face I had in my former existence, just left through the Black Star. But still it was recognizable from that world. Ahh, another ohh moment. The Matrix!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0043, 0314, C2077, J-Town, Nightsity

00420314 (snow)

“Is that sup-pose to be… me? IS THAT… suppose… to be… MEEE? What’s going on here? Wh-wha–”

“Let me show you your future to explain,” I said back from beyond the 4th wall.

“Yeah okay yeah I guess I see your point I guess I see.” He shook his head. “Jack, eh?”

“Jack,” I said. And then I showed him where I took out (the) yellow.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0314, Big Woods, GTA, Hana Lei^^, Jeogeot

00410314

Supergal Ruby had given up fishing but mate Greg Ogden hadn’t. He’d been lucky enough at the sport to distract them from the golden coins and other Corvo mysteries, sucked up inside the mundane for a while. “2 sharks, a mantra ray, and a swordfish in one day!” he exclaimed to Ruby over a fish highlighted supper, perch salmon or cod (another reader’s choice). It was only afterwards that Ruby recalled the coins, and the fact that they had missed the last ship out of Corvo until Munday. Oh well. At least *Greg’s* happy, she consoled herself. And it will give her time to talk to Mr. Gold.

But she never saw him again, nor his spinning wheel nor the big ball of yarn down the beach from him he was supposedly working on. Dare I say he was a figment of her imagination? Eventually the coins became that too, we can follow. As the island had planned all along. In the immortal words of famous philosopher and, later, box company worker John Locke: “It’s not an island.”

Supergal’s second album, “Atlantis Forgotten,” was fittingly titled. There were more things to dwell on than lost civilizations now, like growing fame, more immediate and materially tangible. The Portuguese government working through the music industry had a hand in that as well; suggested “safe” words to use in her lyrics to downplay the supernatural, “lost knowledge” aspects found on the first. The oh too commonplace selling of the soul.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0314, Hana Lei^^

from star to shining star

“How far to the Pleiades star constellation formation, Helmsman Pickard?”

“Um, just checking,” replied the red uniformed man to the right, hands all over the controls with much accompanying typing noises. Finally he answered: “About 150 parsecs still, mum.”

Cpt. Extra Ordinary knew that *Earth*, their origin point, was less than 150 parsecs from the Pleiades. She makes a note to replace Pickard with promising jr. officer Lulu U. Hooroo, a black woman from Silver City, New Mexico in the 1950s. She’s certainly capable for the position, plus it will add much needed diversity to the bridge. Not a black, yellow, red, or brown person in sight here, although Helmsman Speck opposite Pickard is half Vulcan. Or so everyone is telling her — she has her doubts still; looks like another white thoroughbred male actor to her from Cookie Cutter California.

Afterwards:

“That was soo much fun! I can’t wait to get to the Pleiades to see what they’ve set up there.”

“Soo… you really think you’re going to the Pleiades, to that distant star constellation formation?” said the woman opposite her, readying to reprise her role as Helmsman Hooroo from the original Star Team series.

“Well, sure. Don’t you?”

“Oh sure, sure. It’s all real. If Dolores Cannon says it’s real then it must be real.”

“Dolores who?”

“The Big Sandy woman. She’s not a channeler after all. She’s a reporter, an investigator. The spirits do not speak through her just *to* her. From various sources, filtered through various human vessels.”

“*We’re* on a vessel,” spoke Mrs. Ordinary, the Extra removed from her name immediately upon exiting the holographic bridge. Yet the unreality lingers. “The USS Galaxy,” she recites. “Class 4a starship, which replaced the class 3b Ararat which replaced the class 2f Cuthand. I know my Star Team stuff. And I knew the distance to the Pleiades. Inept Helmsman Pickard will be replaced the next time we step up on the bridge. *You’ll* be there with me instead. And maybe I’ll keep Speck there, maybe not. Depends on what the blood tests I ordered show up with. If thoroughbred white like I suspect — outta there too. We’ll replace him, yes, with someone Asian, maybe an Indian.”

“Back to the Pleiades,” steered “Hooroo” toward the main problem again, the main sticking point. There was no stage set up for them in the 7 star star constellation formation. Despite what Cannon relayed in Book 1.

I can feel her laughing behind the scenes. I think she may be part of my “council”, perhaps as a counsel.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0314, Bellisaria, Sandfly

FD hair:permed loose ringlets

“Comes in every day about this time and does a little dance. Says he feels like he’s sprouted wings he’s so free. I think it has something to do with what goes on in that church about every day this time. I’ve heard rumors. And, well, I’ve plain out heard — rag breaks at the dumpster, you know. Something’s going on, and not quite religious, not even for those Tilers over there.”

“It’s this town,” offers Gloria to Wanda, working on their 3rd beach of the novel. Or quickly getting there, beach about a 100 meters away from here still. Hurricane season once more, though. Water will come to them. “I haven’t quite figured out how to word it…”

“Novel; unique,” says bartender Wanda to this. Robert finishes his dance, dramatically opens the front doors of the place, waves to the winged statue outside, and strides away in his powerful manner, like a king from a throne. Left not right; toward the ocean. Because he’s through with religion for now. Until Monday’s Wednesday, which is tomorrow. Happy days all 6 or 7, whether you count renegade Munday or not. He has that option.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0314, Jeogeot, Neptune, NWES Island^