He was playing on the keyboard.
She was belting out the piano.
The front door rang. No one knew where they lived. Who could it be?
Category Archives: 03
stormy
It was a coastal afternoon sort of day. He tried his luck with a passing fairy who spoke two octaves above him. “Crabwoo?”
“What was that?” she buzzed, and was gone.
“Darn.” He shakes his head. “Fairies,” he utters. “Everyone says they know everything but I haven’t seen nothing yet from the lot of ’em.” He imagines spitting on the ground, this *dreamscape*. He wakes up.
—–
Shelley made it no secret that she wanted another baby. She tried provocative pose after provocative pose for enticement, even buying this giant cat-girl scratching post to aid. “Dear,” she called over to Tommy, reading another magazine at the top. Herself again, of course. “Yes, what is it?” He mixed a dab of indifference into the tone. Hatti’s influence again (of course). She’s a genius at recipes, he thinks often, especially deadly ones. But just plain harmless tasty ones too. Half and… “Dear,” she prompts again, seeing she’s losing him to the dreams. Snores would soon follow if she wasn’t quick. She assumes a different pose to change the scene. She puffs her stomach out to appear like it’s got another baby in it already. This time he takes the bait. But that was his plan all along. Julia here we come!
—–
Out in the yard, the mannequin shuts her ears and eyes, having enough of babies. Where was her own? She didn’t care; she put it out of her mind. Eyela erupts from the ground behind her, another spat-upon fairy.
The front doors remain locked.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0302, Bellisaria, Continent 02
hhi-ding
“I had that dream again where your name was George,” she offered at the breakfast table. Toasty-O’s this time. New shape: hexagons. And licorice flavored, yum. Something different, something to spice up the palate. Last night it was fried red tomatoes. Night before — he couldn’t recall. Something with spaghetti and yogurt. Afterwards: salmon flavored ice cream. A lot of times it was all about color, warm mixed with cool. Just like (orange toned) Julius. He gurgled and spat out more milk — happened a lot these days as well. “We’ll have to ween him off the stuff soon,” she said, looking over at the white stain enlarging on his baby blue bib. Because of course Shelley knew now as well. This was a boy. She just didn’t realize when it happened. Like unwanted pregnancies this was an unwanted sex. But it was too late to abort (the name). Julius it is, although Shelley would have preferred a Julia. Sometimes the man still rules the house. Especially with a wife so vain she stares a little too often in the mirror. He can trick her, he can distract. Now what *next*, he ponders from his side of the breakfast table, staring over as she picks up another magazine. He’s planted them all around the house and beyond. Henrietta had taught him well, ha ha. Hehe. Ho.
“Who?” he asked innocently, knowing exactly what his real name was, one he hadn’t revealed to Shelley except in the deepest depths of night.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0301, Bellisaria, Continent 02
00280317
He didn’t get much information from that pothead Pine Ridge but he understood Lamb had flown the coup. Peter Paul and Mary I mean here, featured in photo-novel 05 and a bit of photo-novel 06 if memory serves. Mr. Babyface came here to try to persuade his nephew Paul (and the rest) to return to the Land of the Living, as he called it, get away from this Hana Lei and its huffing and puffing and boys bringing more rolled up paper all the time, just like clockwork. You pay them, they come and never stop, the jerks. “Vicious cycle,” he said. “You’ll end up like Syd,” he furthered, pointing out the famous downfall of one of Paul’s rock heroes. “Dead… or worse. Dead in your head, which goes beyond physical death because the mind goes beyond the body. You better think about that the next time you take a shower with that cat soap you like.” He decides to leave it at that. Paul stares at him, much like Roger stared at Jacob later on, all glazy eyed, like a glossy pot ready to go to market, ready to have another plant inside it. He didn’t need to ask the Time because he knew what it was, shortly followed by Money, shortly followed by death. And worse. Brain Damage.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0317, HANA LEI
HappyMood
“Yeah, they’re all gone,” explained Roger Pine Ridge a little later in the heart of Hana Lei. “50 years ago I guess by now — just missed them.” He kept toking, staring, his cracked alien skin no better for the smoke. But being alien and all it may not matter that much… lungs might be configured differently for example. Smoking may not hurt him like us humans. He continues. “Lamb, yeah. I know what’s in your head. You want to clarify what I’m talking about.” He coughs, he stares at the doobie almost shrunk to nothing, then tosses it away and shakes his hand vigorously like it’s on fire and he’s trying to put it out. “Where’s some pliers when you need them, heh.”
Jacob I. was currently taking a break from pot, trying to crack this whole Lamb conundrum with a clear head. So no cracks about Bogarting that whole joint thing to Roger, because Jacob I. asked him to. “No thanks,” he said at the time, then took a glance at all the pots and pseudo-pots strewn about the place and wondered how he ever survived with it. Lamb could save him. Dollie.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0316, HANA LEI
*original* Hana Lei
All of a sudden, just like that, he was back to where it all started. The I. that could not get high, this Melancholy place in BEHappy. All aspects of BEH he was examining tonight, remembering his old friend Cyberpaperdoll, for instance, in another Beh sim place over on the Heterocera continent. And he was of course thinking of sheep, which go behhhhhh. Like Dolly the cloned one. Dolly had been *here*…
… but her name seems to have been spelled “ie” instead of “y”.
Wormhole still…
… leading to the Square of Jupiter, famous in Durer’s “Melancholia I”.
Randolph the Bastard Pirate.
Better go check out the locals while I’m here, Jacob I. decided.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0315, HANA LEI
from Genesis to Lamb
—–
Now that I’m awake again I’m going to figure out who you guys are, he thought. Sorry: *gals*.
Gals?
—–
Other Other! (4:00)
Worlds come together. (3:45)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0314, Kowloon+, Yaya Land+
the future is now
He sat underwater with Leaday afterwards and wondered what just happened? “Was any of it real?” he called over from his stool next to one of the circling opabinia, another impossibility since this queer 5 eyed, backwards headed fish has been extinct for millions of years. He remembers visiting the doctor. That’s it. But what happened inside was a blank.
—–
He took his first shirt off, finally remembering there was actually a shirt beneath that. Shirt Zero if you will. He was home.
And all was not well.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0313, Kowloon+, Yaya Land+
red all over
The door to the bar was a decoy — sent visitors upstairs to another bar devoid of animations and life in general. Except for constantly humming Hurley. Let’s shorten it to Hummy. The bird.
“Where IS HE????” demanded the Heart Queen after teleporting up. The future was still the present, which means Guy was still successfully hiding in the past immediately below, purchased identity holding. Too bad she’d never learned to play croquet or things could have worked out differently for her. It could have relaxed her, taken her down a different path. And indeed, that’s the queen Fish Head and Guy knew (in the past). A kinder gentler one, a sympathetic sort.
“Have a Bloody Mary, Queen,” trilled the humming bird. “Let’s talk.”
The queen was surprised she could sit down despite the lack of animations. It didn’t bother Hummy, since he was a flier not a sitter. He expertly blended a tomato with celery and spice. He mixed in the liquor. It was ready.
One sip and she started to remember, heart of ice melting. She recalls Broken Heart. The spell was over.
She began to dance again.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0312, Kowloon+
Bar None
He ran.
—–
“It’s good you changed shirts and came here, Guy. She won’t look here: too far in the past.”
He wanted to say that he didn’t change his shirt he merely added another one on top of the first but just thanked his lucky stars it worked anyway. Now he could talk openly about the Heart Queen with his old friend Fish Head, the one who he could depend on to give him directions when he got lost. Which was a *lot* here.
“Who is she?” he asked, heart still thumping from all the excitement.
“Goes by Helen.”
Helen, Guy pondered. Like Troy. Destroyer of Men.
“What happened to Feng Sui and Qi?”
“Gave up the store. Left town.” Guy knew Fish Head was talking about Store Zero, where it all started and revolved around and shite. Murderous past. Which was, again, present. But he had no real choice. He had to escape (!). Gunshots outside. He’ll have to get use to it, he figured.
“And the uncles?” Two more shots, then a scream. Then quiet (for a while).
“One remains.” But Fish Head didn’t reveal which one. Could be Jack. Could be John. He didn’t have the guts to open that door and find out — the body could be slumping right against it; spill into the establishment and cause a bloody mess he’d have to clean up. And he’d lost his mop, dangnit. Probably stolen (again!) by the Mopheads down in Ragtown, the bloody gang. Maybe them outside right now, causing all this commotion. The Heart Queen had hidden him but for how long? It was up to her to open the door — not him.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0311, Kowloon+
